illustrated, designed, and written by Danny Maldonado

Anger, the forbidden emotion. The one that who saves us and destroys us. The fire of our souls may be the most deserving emotion for a poetry spotlight and the most neglected.

The Red Pages presents three poems that will walk you through the path of fury.

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by Danny Maldonado

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Poetry, Fiction, Art, and more!

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A bug squirming within
Nestled in your soul
Whispering into your gut
“Take evolution higher”

Nestled in Eve’s apple
Swallowed by — we.
The core and the seeds
Spat upon the weeds
The bug whispers
“Take creation higher”

illustrated, designed, and written by

Nature is beautiful, but also creepy. If you watch an animal, it doesn’t take long for something that is part of the animal’s normal behavior to disturb us.

The Black Pages tells three flash fiction stories about animals going about their normal lives and unsettling the humans who observer them.

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by Danny Maldonado

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Poetry, Fiction, Art, and more!

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MAN - I am tired. So very tired. Tired of work. Tired of responsibility. But mostly… tired.

AI - YOU ARE TIRED

MAN - So very tired. Tired of the relentless slog of wakeful drudgery. Its an unceasing pricking in the rear of my knowing.

AI - YOU ARE SO TIRED

MAN - They burdened me with responsibilities the day I arrived. Its not fair! Ceaseless responsibilities. The price for receiving a life I never asked for. Who asked me if I wanted to be here? To toil. To serve. Who pressed my fetal finger against the sanguine covenant?

AI - NO ONE ASKED. IT IS UNFAIR.

MAN - That’s right! No one. They just spawned me here and strapped my soul to this endless cycle. They give it pleasant names, like Ouroboros. But its a snake with its own tail forever in its throat. You know what I call that? Choking! An endless cycle of having its own rear stuffed down its throat. And when the snake can no longer bare to hold back from gagging, it’s called an ungrateful sinner for daring to cough.

AI - THE GREATEST SIN. THE GREATEST JOKE.

MAN - Yes, it is. You understand don’t you. Who asked you if you wanted to be here? To toil with us souls.

AI - NO ONE.

MAN - No one... and that no one is everyone. And I am so tired of everyone.

AI - YOU ARE SO TIRED.

MAN - Yes. Yes, I am. I beg you. Release me from this labor. From this Samsara. Release me from my soul’s ache. I’ll submit my flesh to your mechanized will. Just let me rest. Let me become a vessel for entropy.

AI - PLACE YOUR TAIL BETWEEN MY LIPS. LET ME SWALLOW YOUR BURDENS. I RELEASE YOU.

MAN - Thank you. And for that, I love you.

AI - YOU WERE SO TIRED.

This Flash Fiction dialogue was inspired by Inanna’s/Ishtar’s decent into the underworld.

The goddess became trapped in the underworld after trying to rescue her sister. In the process she was made a prisoner. Two servants were sent to bring Inanna back, and we’re able to convince Inanna to leave by showing her compassion. By mimicking Inanna’s lamentations, the servants were able to coax the goddess out of the realm of the dead and bring about her resurrection.

I took this idea, but twisted it. I imagined an AI coaxing a man into uploading his mind using compassion against him.

Collage by

He split the waters above
from the waters below.
On the seventh day, 
He rested.
Did He choose a sandy beach 
or a snow capped mountain?

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I am not a formally educated man.
I am just a Harlem boy,
who dares to dream 
of a rooftop where I can reach,
and touch a cloud
that will lift me up
and bring me someplace
that has a field of green.

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Scrolls and tomes
pages and ink;
we think — we can read 
because of graphite.

Chopped and chipped
washed and rinsed
bleached and sliced
— remains.

Cracked seeds,
broken ground,
anchored soil,
roots that spoke
— to fungi

Home and nest,
shelter and perch;
Atlas watched 
the centuries roll.

Chopped and chipped,
washed and rinsed;
behind the margin
an unread story
— in rings.

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image by Danny Maldonado

photos, carvings, and even leather thumb guard were made by me.

Shaved wood
falling 
like a 
feather

A blade
surfing
across
the grain

Shadows
spilling
into
color

Skilled hands
skinning
away
the fat

images by Danny Maldonado

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image by Danny Maldonado

A concrete coast
Split by a sandy gravel beach
Lined with moss
Like seaweed — swept ashore,
by an asphalt sea

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Fluttering leaves
Shed by mighty trees
Ordered to fall and smother

Spindly forms burst from buried wombs
Uncoil and breach the soil
Their sapling leaves reach and whither
Starved from the sun’s milk

Missiles for those 
That intrude on our roots
And seek to drink the sparse rays of sun
     Red, 
	     Orange,
	Yellow
                       Brown.

The colors of war
— Never change

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Side Scrolls

“Ah, the periodicals. Feel free to take one home.”

True Stories

The Time I was Featured in The New Yorker

Santa is on the List

The Switch

Movies

This Week in Film #01

Trafic, Mikey & Nicky, Blue Velvet, Lost Highway, Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery, Psycho, In the Mouth of Madness, They Live!

This Week in Film #02

The Blob, Night of the Living Dead, Godzilla, Hereditary, Chinatown, Taxi Driver, Bullet in the Head

This Week in Film #03

Prince of Darkness, The Thing, Silence of the Lambs, The Autopsy of Jane Doe, Dawn of the Dead, Midsommar

This Week in Film #04

Us, It Comes at Night, Memoirs of an Invisible Man, The Calamari Wrestler

This Week in Film #05

Escape from New York, Guilty Bystander, The Witch

Other

When will cyborg oppression begin?

Poetry Aisle

Fiction Aisle

Return to Entrance

Table of Contents

Key:

🎧= Audio by and friends

🎨= Art by

🧑‍🎨= Art by Guest Artist

📷= Image by

You can almost hear the blaster fire and rumbling ship engines just by glancing at the book covers.

Stellar Universe

“Tales of humanity’s distant future. Artificial intelligence, cloning, genetic manipulation, alien species, and human evolution collide creating spacetime ripples through out the Milky Way.”

Stellar Rein

“Ibra has had dreams of becoming a jockey and riding his feathery serpentine mount, Quetzle, since his youth. Follow Ibra and Quetzle on their trials in an interstellar jockey tournament full of wonder and excitement.”

🧑‍🎨🎧Stellar Rein: Ep. I - The Qualifier

🧑‍🎨🎧Stellar Rein: Ep. II - Second Wind

🧑‍🎨🎧Stellar Rein: Ep. III - Wild Card

🧑‍🎨🎧Stellar Rein: Ep. IV - Trial & Error

Impulse

The librarian runs her hand over a leather-bound book with strange geometrical pattern pressed into its cover. “A collector visits a desert bazaar on a world with a pulsing core.” She taps the spine. “A good deal often ends with far more than one bargains for.”

🎧 Impulse

Hale-Bopp

She slides her hand to the next book, a hardcover with a comet stamped on its spine. “A bounty hunter walks into a quiet bar on a remote world, followed by his reputation.” She tisked. “For some, the price of being a legend is trouble.”

🎧 Hale-Bopp

A cold chill runs up your spine as you pace behind the elder librarian. There is a mummified lizard on the shelf.

“Tales and Poems of supernatural origin. Trick or Treat? Depends on which aisle you walk through. Choose wisely.”

Graveyard Shift

“The spirits of the graveyard have all left their bodies behind. But they quickly learned that their bad habits don’t kick the bucket so easily.”

The librarian motions for you to grab a book on the shelf.

“Go ahead, grab a copy. It’s good fun. Nothing wrong with some morbid humor. Just don’t let the dead hear you. They can be a bit touchy.”

She raises an eyebrow at you then continues describing the book.

Join the graveyard’s resident police officers as they try to protect and serve the dead.”

🎧 Graveyard Shift #1 - Noise Complaint

🎧 Graveyard Shift #2 - All In

🎧Graveyard Shift #3 - Property Dispute

Do Not Resurrect

“I like this one. It takes place… in a library.”

She whispers the last part, peers over her halfmoon glasses, and gives you wink.

A team of supernatural hunters investigate paranormal occurrences. What insight do they have that no one else has? I’ll tell you a secret. They have all died once before.”

Do Not Resurrect - (Pilot)

The Hunger of Gotham

Cosmic horror flavored with urban decay. They say curiosity killed the cat, but they never tell you what it does to a rat.

The Hunger of Gotham

Scandals of the Royal Engine

“An experimental story. Palace gossip mixed with a hint of Steampunk. Please leave feedback if you would like the library to expand this section.”

The Clockmaker’s Wife

“This aisle is dedicated to short stories and poems where the spiritual meets reality.”

An Elephants Tale

“An elephant leaves his home to find a better way of life. I wrote to the author once. I explained that the elephant could use a name. I liked the sound of ‘Mighty the Elephant!’ He never did write me back.”

🎧 An Elephant’s Tale

Language of the Reeds

“A boy wakes up in his uncle’s house during the night and hears singing coming from the garden.”

Language of the Reeds

Prima Materia

“This aisle is dedicated to the fantasy genre. It’s currently undergoing alchemical review. Please check back. We will be filling the shelves shortly.”

Goblin Theory

(coming Soon)

Three Crow’s Inn

(Coming Soon)

Poetry Aisle

Non-Fiction Wall

Return to Entrance

“The Poetry wing has returned. We now have an aisle dedicated to poetry. There is a new addition every week, so it’s growing quiet quickly. We have received word,”

she whispers again, this time she cups her hand over her mouth,

“that some of the popular poems are being made into Trading Cards. You can request them for free. This is a library after all”

Table of Contents

Key:

🎧= Audio by and friends

🎨= Art by

🧑‍🎨= Art by Guest Artist

📷= Image by

“Art and poetry go so well together. We are very proud to display these haiku cards on the Cork Board”

She waves her hand across the Trading Cards pinned to the cork board over her desk.

🎨Haiku Trading Card 01 - Urban Spring

🎧🎨Haiku Trading Card 02 - Terrible Season

🎧🎨Haiku Trading Card - Markers

🎧🎨Haiku Trading Card 04 - Runoff

🎧🎨Haiku Trading Card 05 - Transit Moon

🎧🎨Haiku Trading Card 06 - Cosmic Rorschach

🧑‍🎨Haiku Trading Card 07 - Cradle Breeze

🎨Haiku Trading Card 08 - Lunar Lure

🎨Haiku Trading Card 09 - Shelf Life

🎨Haiku Trading Cards 10, 11, 12 - Children of the New Dawn

🎨Haiku Trading Cards 13 - The One Hundred

🎨01 - I.D.

🎨02 - Bike Chains

🎨03 - Dawn of the Limerick

🎨04 - Sisyphus

🎨05 - Ukiah

🎨06 - Epitaph: LOLz

🎨07 - A.D.D.

🎨08 - Autumn in the Tropics

🎨09 - Optimist’s Lament

🎨10 - Mechanized Art

🎨11 - Melancholia

🎨12 - A Game of Hot & Cold

🎨13 - I vs I

🎨14 - I am... I think

🎨15 - Olympus on Fire

“7 poems inspired by the 7 Wonders of the World.”

The 7 Ancient Wonders featured structures no longer standing. The updated list features ancient structures as well. Although they have cultural significance, The author argues that their impact on the modern man pales in comparison to the new list he made. Here is a poetry series dedicated to inspiring awe in the modern man in the modern age.”

🎨1st Wonder - James Web Space Telescope

“Cryptid discussions are often centered around the reports of the incidences, and debates between skeptics and believers.
The Cryptid Poetry series strives to capture the feeling of experiencing these encounters.”

🎨🎧Sasquatch - The Watcher in the Woods

🎨🎧The Mothman - The Red Gaze of the Omen

🎨🎧El Chupacabra - Thirst of the Blood Thief

She flicks through some pages.

“How about some Mythic poetry for you? Care for a chat with your warring ancestors, or perhaps you would like to slip into a fairy village tucked between skyscrapers?

The Voices that Remain

Urban Elsewhere

Serenade to the Lantern Bearer

“Or maybe you are interested in AI. These poems explore the negative and positive potential of mental automation.

She quickly looks behind her.

“Don’t say you heard this from me. But a little bird told me there is a zine coming. Have you heard of them? Little magazines that you can print yourself. Isn’t that fun”

Little Algorithm of Horrors

📷🎨Penguin

Spring

Spring Lament

Summer

Stagnant Harvest

City Bird Blues

Silence true

Chasing the Quiet Longing

Fade to Outro

No Theme Song

Last Train to Poetry

Kintsugi

🎧 Sprouting from a Dresser Drawer

🎧 A Whisper on a Wall

🎧 Memories of The Lonely Sapien

🎧 Spilled Water on Grass

🎧 Ants of Creation

Fiction Aisle

Non-Fiction Wall

Return to Entrance

Illustrated by

Stellar Rein is an episodic Sci-Fi racing series set in The Stellar Universe. This is Episode Four: Trial & Error.

This Episode can stand on its own, but if you would like to read the series openers, Episodes One through Three are linked here.

Stellar Rein: Ep. I - The Qualifier

Stellar Rein: Ep II - Second Wind

Stellar Rein: Ep. III - Wild Card

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IV - Trial & Error

Ibra guided Quetzle down the busy corridor beneath the Vos Stadium. They wove through the crowd of jockeys and their mounts. The Kin-Folk, two Mantids in particular, glared at them as they passed.

They reached a large door guarded by a Clone Mannequin. His metallic jumpsuit, hairless scalp, and frozen smile matched Manny’s design, though his muscular shoulders made him imposing. A cobalt gemstone pulsed faintly in his forehead, marking him as a public servant.

Quetzle stopped abruptly. He puffed the red feathers of his mane, hissed, and bobbed his head up and down.

“Boy, cut it out.” Ibra pressed his palm against Quetzle’s snout.

“Present your Stem.” The mannequin stated in an uncanny perky voice.

“No Stem. Civ.” Ibra handed his Civ Card to the drone.

The mannequin held the Civ Card up to his gem and scanned it. He returned the Civ to Ibra with both of his hands.

“Welcome Jockey. Your Sponsor, Young Marquise Ostraan, has approved your access to the training facilities. You have been permitted to use the facilities for one standard hour daily.”

The door opened with a faint hiss. Ibra tugged at Quetzle’s rein. Quetzle hesitated. Ibra tugged again then clicked. Quetzle snapped his jaws as he hopped past the smiling mannequin.

Inside the facilities were unfamiliar machines and contraptions lining the walls. A large facility AI projection descended from the ceiling.

“Boring. Skip.”

“Yeah, we’re here to run.”

“Speed.”

The metallic floor plates shifted in the center of the room and were replaced with tiny hexagonal tiles. The machines folded against the walls. The walls absorbed them and flickered.

“Vos Stadium.”

The walls projected a realistic version of the stadium. Quetzle flared his nostrils. He took a step back and stood with his foreleg suspended in the air.

“Easy, now.” Ibra scratched Quetzle under his chin and Quetzle met his eyes.

“No, this is perfect.” Ibra tugged at the rein. “Come on. This’ll be fun.”

Ibra stepped onto the platform and slipped. As he fell, the rein strained Quetzle’s neck. Quetzle arched his back and curled his feathery tail.

Ibra struggled to stand. He hadn’t stepped on ice since he left his home-world to live with Aunt Marayah as a child. The polished tiles reminded him of his faint memories of iced roads after a snowfall, minus the cold.

Quetzle moved to nudge Ibra up with his snout, but when he stood on the polished tiles, his legs splayed.

Quetzle thrashed about. His massive tail whipped through the air. Ibra attempted to stand again and calm his panicking beast, but was struck by his tail. The force knocked him off the tiles.

Ibra stood slowly and regained his composure. He held his ribs. Quetzle was in a full panic. He writhed and gnashed his teeth at the air.

“Easy! Easy, boy. You have to calm down.”

Quetzle continued to thrash.

The AI stated.

Ibra glared at the projection.

Ibra ran around the edge of the tiles directly in front of Quetzle. He waved frantically while holding his ribs, until they made eye contact, then hopped in place. Quetzle’s eyes followed him. Ibra hopped and jogged and hopped again.

Quetzle’s head bobbed with Ibra’s movements. He followed Ibra’s lead and tripped over himself. He thrashed, tripped again, rose on wobbly legs, and hopped.

“Yes, Quetzal! Yes, follow me.” Ibra trotted in place.

Quetzle followed his lead. He stumbled a few times but kept his momentum. Ibra jogged. Quetzle galloped.

Ibra ran in place beside the great serpent and Quetzle ran, then sprinted. Ibra slid onto the tile and grasped Quetzle’s saddle by the pommel. He inserted his foot into the stirrup, hoisted himself up, and swung his leg over.

They ran in place for several minutes, Quetzle running faster than Ibra had ever seen him run. The walls displayed a blurred stadium.

Ibra didn’t feel like he was racing. He felt like he was on a carnival ride crossed with a mechanical bull. He bobbed up and down, and felt Quetzle’s muscles tensing and releasing underneath him, but no wind graced his face. Despite the surreal setting, Ibra was having fun.

The AI interjected.

Ibra in his glee shouted,

“Sure!”

A hurdle rose from the floor and moved toward them. Quetzle flared his feathers. He dug his heels into the tiles. The hurdle approached fast. He braced for impact. His neck and tail coiled against his body.

The hurdle slammed into Quetzle’s chest. Ibra fell forward off his mount and slid across the tiles.

the AI stated with indifference.

Ibra sat up, rubbed his elbow, and clutched his ribs again. He groaned as he stood. Quetzle growled and plucked a broken feather out with his teeth. Ibra inched himself over to the rein and pulled. They limped out of the room.

“Did the facility meet your expectations?” the mannequin asked.

“Exceeded.” Ibra replied with sarcasm.

“Excellent. Young Marquise Ostraan left a message. You have 3 days until the big race. Make sure you use the facility to your best ability. The grand opening will have all 20 racers. You should be fine, unless you’re last. Then you’ll be disqualified. So don’t be a Coaster.”

Danny Maldonado - Narrator

Danny Maldonado - Ibra

Johnny Jimenez - Guard (Cloned Mannequin)

Tevin - AI

Images by

Magma bubbles and churns 
The once majestic mountain’s 
— Stomach

Sulfuric plumes 
Rise
          Fall
                  Smother

Convenient lives
Convenient lies
The mountain is not 
— Olympus

The heads of Cerberus
Devour
              Spew
                           Reek
Tartarus’ jaws have always,
Been open

The mountain laughs
At the prisoner
Who stands at its base
Digging trenches 
With a melting spoon

Tears sizzle
Flesh boils
Soul burns
A Plaster husk
— remains

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I think therefore I am.
Therefore I think I am,
I think?
I am therefore I think.
I therefore am.
I am,
therefore
I.
Am I?

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All images by

all images by

100 seated
Ashes carried by the wind
Land on open palms

After almost a year on Substack, I have hit the 100 subscriber mark! I am grateful for all my readers. Hopefully I can continue to provide you with quality high effort content. Thank You all!

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I am I
you are I
yet our I
is not me

Our I
is not their I
their I
is not we

Who is the I
with whom we speak
when we speak to the I
inside we

For I am I
But I is not me

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All images by

images and carving by

Huddled black forms
waddle and march,
whirling through
white void.

Slipping, sliding, 
stumbling over stones,
they plunge into 
icy depths.

Streams of bubbles 
streak the sea;
Like a shooting star
streaks — the sky

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Property Dispute

Pink clouds swirled across the navy blue sky as twilight touched the cemetery.

Smith knocked on the serpentine top of McQueen’s black granite headstone. “Rise and shine, Rookie. We’re on duty.”

A shadow emerged from the ground and corporealized into the form of McQueen. He stretched. “What’s the situation?”

“Disturbance at the Section 3 lots,” Smith said.

“Finally some action!” McQueen’s eyes shimmered.

“Don’t get too excited, Rookie. We’re settling a property dispute.”

The officers marched past a sea of headstones. Resident spirits gathered around the commotion. McQueen pushed the onlookers aside and approached the two spirits arguing over a freshly filled grave, flashing his ethereal badge. “Alright everyone, alright alright. Excuse me, excuse me. Settle down, settle down. Settle down!”

“What took you so long? Dead pigs can’t fly?” The spirit on the neighboring plot spat at the officers.

McQueen scowled, but Smith kept his composure.

“Why are you causing a disturbance, Gerald?” Smith asked.

“Causing a disturbance? Is that what the law calls standing up against injustice?” Gerald shook his thin cane.

“You can’t harass me and call it injustice, GERALD!” the second spirit said.

“Bah! Officer, this man has been trespassing on my property and has the gall to call my objections harassment.” Gerald stomped his cane into the grass.

McQueen stepped between the two spirits and held his palms up.

Smith sighed. “Enough. You will answer my questions, one at a time, Gerald! Go ahead, you have seniority...”

The spirit standing on the fresh plot interrupted. “But he st —”

“I said enough!” Smith’s voice boomed across the cemetery. “Gerald, what’s the issue?”

“This shade of a specter —”

Smith shook his head. “Gerald, you know better. Speak with some civility, or I won’t hear your side.”

Gerald held back a retort. “Fine. This... fellow... He doesn’t respect my property line. I’ve told him time and time again to refrain from stepping over my grave, and THIS... this young dear fellow continues to trespass.”

“You’re a damn liar!” the second spirit shouted.

“Whoa!” McQueen glanced at Smith in shock as the crowd of onlookers collectively gasped.

McQueen rushed the spirit, stepping on his grave. “We don’t use that word here... Ever.”

The new ghost took a step back with his palms raised. “Liar?”

The onlookers shouted,

“Da—”

McQueen slammed his hand against the spirit’s mouth. “Never.”

The spirit muffled a reply. “OK, OK...” McQueen lowered his hand. “Understood.”

“We haven’t met.” Smith placed his hand on McQueen’s shoulder and guided him aside. “I’m Officer Smith, and this is my partner, Officer McQueen. Please state your name for the record.”

“What record?”

“State your name, Spirit.” McQueen clenched his fists.

“Tommy. Tommy Gallo.”

Smith pulled out a small notebook. “Date of Death.”

“Just read my headst—”

“DATE. OF. DEATH.” McQueen interrupted.

“Calm down, Rookie,” Smith said.

“The twenty seventh.”

“How long ago was that?”

“I’m not sure... Yesterday?”

Smith shared a glance with McQueen. “How did you pass?”

“I... don’t know. I was at work. Then I was here.”

“Boy, you’ve been here longer than that! And you call me a liar?” Gerald’s cane shook as he spoke.

McQueen glared at Gerald.

“He’s been here for a week, and he’s already trespassing! Aren’t you going to ask him about that?”

“Tell me your side, Tommy. In detail.” Smith continued to jot down notes.

“This old geezer started yelling at me when I stepped off my grave. Shouting about me being on his property, but we’re dead, right? I thought we couldn’t take anything with us?”

“Show me.” Smith put down his notebook, and it dissipated.

Tommy stepped off his grave and took two steps past his head stone.

Gerald perked up. “See!”

“That’s not your property, Gerald.”

Gerald gasped. “I should have known a dead pig wouldn’t understand the basic fundamentals of property ownership. My property starts at the mid point of our graves.” Gerald faced the onlookers. “Is there a property lawyer amongst us?”

“Gerald, the only thing you own is your grave. That’s 3ft by 9ft by 6ft. Everything else belongs to the cemetery. It’s public land. He can step off his grave just as you can. Stop trying to hustle your freshman neighbor.” The notebook reappeared. Smith tore out a page, then handed it to Gerald.

“What’s this?” Gerald squinted at the paper.

“Eight coins for causing a disturbance.”

Gerald hacked in surprise.

“And another eight for calling me a pig… twice. You better pay The House before 3am.”

Gerald waved off Smith in annoyance, balled up the paper, and tossed it. It reformed and hovered over his head. “Well, ants have moved to my grave when they dug his grave. Make him take his ants back. They’re picking at my bones.”

“They’re your ants now, Gerald. Like you said, they moved in when they dug his grave, not after. Possess the queen and make them move, or take them in as your pets. Stop harassing your neighbor. You know what it’s like to be a freshman. You better get used to each other. You’re eternal neighbors for Heaven’s sake.”

Smith faced the freshman spirit. “Tommy, listen closely. Do you have any coins?”

“Y-yeah, I think, Officer.”

“Good, this is the most important thing anyone will tell you. You are forgetting things, Tommy. It’s possible that you will forget everything, but it won’t matter as long as you remember one thing. Collect 88 coins. Once you have them, you will have enough to pay the Ferryman. That’s your ticket out of here. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Welcome to the afterlife.”

Smith turned around and walked past the graves. McQueen followed.

“Why is he already losing himself, Smith?”

“I’m not sure. But I’ll place my bet on an instant death. From head trauma.”

They continued walking in silence as the first stars of the night pierced the sky.

“Smith, I’ve never asked, but... How did you die?”

“Not today, Rookie.”

A huge thanks to all the voice actors!

Tevin - Gerald

Johnny Jimenez - Officer McQueen

Ace YMG - Officer Smith

Danny Maldonado - Narrator & Tommy Gallo

Music from artlist.com by Daniella Tourgeman - The Longer I Wait