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Created a year ago · 11 comments· 0 likes
Dreamshaper XL Lightning
The sun was rising over the bloodied docks, casting a pale light over the aftermath of the battle. The docks, usually alive with the sounds of loading cargo and bustling workers, were silent. The thick fog was starting to burn off, but the bodies, the smell of gunpowder, and the aftermath of violence remained.
Sullivan stood alone, his back to the water, watching the chaos around him slowly settle. His men were regrouping, tending to the wounded, while the U.S. Marshals were loading the remaining Russians into waiting cars. But his mind wasn’t on the battle, or the dead—it was on Maeve. And Patrick.
His chest felt heavy, and the wound in his side throbbed painfully, but he couldn’t feel it. All he could feel was the loss.
A bustling New York City street scene from the 1890s. Carriages and horse-drawn streetcars fill cobblestone roads, captured with warm golden tones in a film noir style. The image evokes early motion picture cinematography.
Created by JellyDonut on Sep 17, 2024 using the Dreamshaper XL Lightning AI image generator model.
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A voice cut through the silence, breaking him out of his thoughts. “We got ‘em.”
Sullivan looked up to see Marshal Frank Donovan approaching him, his long coat billowing slightly in the morning breeze. The Marshal had a cigarette between his lips, his rifle slung over his shoulder, and a rare look of satisfaction on his face.
“Got who?” Sullivan asked, his voice rough, his eyes narrowing.
Donovan exhaled a plume of smoke, then flicked the cigarette to the ground. “While we were down here cleaning up Volkov’s mess, my men were taking down the real power in this city.”
Sullivan frowned, confused.
Cinematic
Medium
1:1
Short
50%

The fact that it's all over is sad, but I absolutely loved the ending. Best story I've read in a long time. Awesome job, JD, I hope to see more stories from you. 🙌