ANNA CORAL
Bio
I am a writer at vocal.
Stories (27/0)
From Thorns to Blooms
Freya's name was synonymous with trouble. With fiery red hair and a glint of defiance in her emerald eyes, she was the school's resident rebel. Skipping classes, detention halls were her second home, and her pranks were legendary, bordering on malicious. Teachers sighed, parents despaired, and Freya reveled in the chaos she created.
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in BookClub
Neon Noir Nightmare
The flickering neon sign outside the abandoned arcade cast an eerie glow on Grace's face. At 17, she was considered a prodigy by the local precinct, a whiz with deduction and a nose for trouble. Tonight, the trouble was a missing girl, Sarah, who vanished after entering this very arcade three days prior. The official investigation had stalled, but Grace wouldn't let it go.
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in Fiction
The Moonlit Bloom
The salty spray on Scarlet's face were freighter rumbled towards the emerald jewel of Oahu. Her heart pounded a frantic counterpoint to the engine's thrum. At 16, she shouldn't be on a rickety cargo ship bound for Hawaii, but desperation had a way of rewriting plans. Her father, a renowned botanist, lay bedridden, struck by a mysterious illness. The only cure, according to a tattered legend in his research notes, was the elusive Hinano Lehua, a moonlit white hibiscus said to bloom on a hidden volcano.
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in Fiction
Ivy and the Fading Heartwood
Ivy, a wisp of a girl with eyes the color of twilight, lived at the very edge of Whisperwood. It wasn't a place feared, but a place respected. The towering trees held whispered secrets in their rustling leaves, and the shadows held mysteries unseen. One day, the whispers turned to panicked screeches. A shadow, darker than any seen before, emerged. It slunk, a monstrous, inky creature with eyes like smoldering embers, its long, whip-like tail leaving a trail of deadened vegetation. It was the Gloom, a creature of legend whispered only in hushed tones by flickering firelight.
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in Fiction
Clocking Out of the Supernatural
Chloe wasn't your average thirteen-year-old. Sure, she enjoyed the occasional pop song and had a questionable obsession with glitter, but her true passion lay in the realm of the extraordinary – specifically, unearthing evidence of the supernatural. Her bedroom resembled a cluttered museum of the peculiar: a jar of "ghost breath" (stale air), a collection of "alien antennae" (twisted pipe cleaners), and a framed photo of her neighbor Mr. Johnson (labeled "possible vampire – sleeps all day").
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in BookClub
The Daughter's Desolation. Content Warning.
The unforgiving sun beat down on Eva's back as she trudged across the cracked earth. Her once vibrant green eyes, now dull with exhaustion, scanned the horizon for any sign of life. The once fertile fields of her village lay barren, ravaged by a relentless drought. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, a constant companion for weeks.
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in BookClub
Through Eleanor's Emerald Eyes
Olivia, with her signature emerald green glasses perched on her nose, squinted through the dusty attic window. Rain lashed against the panes, a perfect accompaniment to the unsettling discovery she'd just made. Nestled amongst moth-eaten shawls and chipped teacups lay a leather-bound journal, its clasp partially undone. The delicate script on the flyleaf sent shivers down her spine – "Eleanor Davies, 1922."
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in History
The Song of a Dying Star
Alexa wasn't built for heroism. With her perpetually oil-streaked overalls and a mop of unruly brown hair that defied all attempts at taming, she was more comfortable tinkering with salvaged tech in her garage workshop than navigating the social minefields of high school. Yet, here she was, hurtling towards the heart of the unknown, cocooned within the cramped confines of a repurposed escape pod.
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in Fiction
Lady Sparrow
The year was 1888, London. Evelyn perched precariously on the rain-slicked rooftop, the wind whipping her hair into a frenzy. Below, the gaslights cast an eerie glow on the labyrinthine streets, a stark contrast to the inky blackness of the night sky. A shiver ran down her spine, a tremor that wasn't entirely from the cold. Evelyn wasn't supposed to be here. A lady of refined breeding, especially one poised to marry a prominent solicitor, did not frequent rooftops.
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in History
Chapter 1: Anya: Echoes from a Forgotten World
The city of Aetheria pulsed with bioluminescent life. Buildings resembled giant, living organisms, their facades shimmering with an otherworldly glow. Anya, a young mechanic with grease-stained overalls and a mop of fiery red hair, zipped through the neon canyons on her trusty hoverboard, her goggles reflecting the city's vibrant chaos.
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in Futurism
Flight of the Phoenix Weaver
Asala, with eyes the color of twilight and hair like spun moonlight, was a weaver's daughter, her life as intricately woven as the tapestries her father crafted. Her nimble fingers, though small, possessed an uncanny talent, whispering stories into silk and dreams into wool. Every thread held a memory, every knot a whispered tale. But fate, a fickle weaver itself, decided to unravel Asala's life with a cruel twist. A raging storm at sea claimed her fragile vessel, leaving behind only a half-finished tapestry depicting a magnificent phoenix rising from a pyre of crimson flames.
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in BookClub
A Journey to Celestia
Absolutely! Here's the story with Michelle: Michelle, a tinker with grease-stained fingers and a mind teeming with impossible dreams, toiled in the smog-choked underbelly of the Chrome City. The city, a behemoth of steel and smoke, scraped the underside of the endless gray clouds that forever shrouded the world. Legends whispered of a fantastical realm above, Celestia, bathed in eternal sunlight and rumored to hold the secrets of the stars.
By ANNA CORAL2 months ago in Art