#cloud breaker

Murakumo by Fromsoftware

Box Art and Cloud Breaker Renders

Jacek Yerka, Cloud Breaker

Cloud Breaker IX Finale – SHORT STORY

     AS THE WIND shrieked hellish past the gap in the glass, I fumbled in my pockets for more red shells, reloading the shot guns once more, as Mike stood looking at the square shaped abyss, signs of life in him yet, if only the look of fear. I strung the guns together with the telephone cable, tying them to my belt. Breathing deeply, closing my eyes briefly, I envisioned what was next for myself…

Cloud Breaker VIII – SHORT STORY

CROUCHED ON THE floor, I grabbed one end of a rope coil searching for something to fix it to that could hold the weight of two people. As Mike stood in a daze I searched the office space for something heavy, a hook, an anchor, anything I had faith in to save two lives. Heavy desks seemed like a viable option but they weren’t bolted to the floor. I estimated that between us we weighed about 180kg.…

Cloud Break VII – SHORT STORY

…RIPPING SHARDS OF the cabinet away I grabbed both of the shotguns. Cradling them I reached along the bottom, picking up two boxes of shells. I hoped they’d be enough and stuffed them into my pockets. As more dark smoke curled past the windows, I exited the office, scooping up the rope, slinging it over my head and then, suddenly it began to rain. The fire alarm clanged monotonous, and now the…

Cloud Breaker VI – SHORT STORY

…GASPING, FEELING THE burn of lactic acid in my arms and legs, I rested outside the locked blue doors on level 136, sweat falling off my nose to the floor, each drip a reminder of passing time. Scrunching my eyes to ease the lingering sting of smoke, I looked at the doors, and made a promise Mike couldn’t hear. Propping myself back up I ran heavenward beyond stairwells, trying to remember the…

Cloud Breaker IV – SHORT STORY

Beware the flashing light. …AS MY MUSIKSTIK blitzed my ears with the same old playlist I thought of the open door and flashing light. Why was nobody around? I dangled off the West of the building now, meditatively cleaning with lazy expertise. The patterns made by my squeegee had a certain look and feel to them that was pleasing, the cleaning liquid always differently formed. Sad details like…