Maili Paul
Bio
I'm autistic. I'm differently abled. I'm a mom of 4 boys and 1 girl. I'm work from home. I'm happily married. I like blue and yellow, particularly together.
Stories (12/0)
Alexa-Andria
Heat poured off her skin in waves. The summoning screams still ringing in her ears as her vision expanded. Her quarry stood over the children, breathing the fear off them. Bile rose in the back of her throat at the sight of him feeding. His long bony fingers stroked one of the girl’s hair back, tucking it behind her ear. Her eyes were tight shut, and she shuttered at the touch, a small whine rising in the air. Andria let her hoody drop off her shoulders and to the ground.
By Maili Paul30 days ago in Chapters
Brandi
She had ascended to godhood for this purpose. Brandi donned her helm, her golden hair cascaded down her back. Stomping nervously beside her Loki sensed that she wouldn’t be taking him to battle. The black stallion was as perceptive as his name’s sake. Thinking of Loki stirred that constant pain in her heart. They were all dead; she was the last of Odin’s realm. She channeled the sorrow to anger and shrieked to the sky. The monsters had just grown as the evil in men had grown and they had destroyed the Norse warriors one by one. The lack of faith in men had destroyed most of the heavenly bastions, the soul prisons to weak and with no one to guide the dead they plagued the mortal realm. She could not stop all the evil, but she could stop this most powerful sluagh. She grabbed her spear and walked from the barn, giving Loki one final glance as the sun disappeared behind them. Starting at a jog, she quickly lengthened her strides, then with three long bounds her wings spread behind her and she took to the sky. The lights of Raiford quickly disappeared as the clouds engulfed her and she heard the sluagh shrieking.
By Maili Paul4 months ago in Chapters
Johnson
Agent Johnson’s feet rhythmically pounded the pavement. She wouldn’t let him get away with this. Deep inside she knew this was the end of everything she knew, her job, her partner, the country she fought so hard for, she would have to run from it all but he had to pay. Her breath came in even, lean muscles burning with the exertion. Adrenaline blanking her mind as she saw his heel disappearing around the corner. She had caught up, he had to know. She slowed down and pulled her gun from its holster. Turning to clear the corner he slammed into her. Falling back to the concrete, her neck snapped back, her head slamming into the pavement. Stars blossomed across her vision. But Lissa trained this a million times and muscle has memory. Her arms went up to guard, her legs shifted underneath them, and she thrusted her hips up and sideways. Stryk was off balance, sliding sideways onto his shoulder. Her vision was still blurred, and she could taste the metallic tinge of blood in her mouth. She quickly rolled away from his body mass and gained her feet. But Stryk had seen where her gun had slid, and he didn’t waste time to gain his feet. He bear crawled and by the time her vision cleared, he was halfway there. She bolted toward him, the world moved in slow motion as his fingers gained the trigger. He rolled and she saw the barrel of the gun. She felt fire go through her shoulder as the bang thundered through her head. She stumbled and the second bang. It was like hot iron through her gut, that had turned into a fist as it blew out her back. As she collided with him, it was with minimal effort that he pushed her to the ground. He stood, staring down at her as blood pooled out onto the pavement. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was in shock. It didn’t hurt anymore but a bone chilling cold settled across her. He was talking but she couldn’t hear him. She tried to roll onto her hands and knees but crumpled into a fetal position. And her hands hit the cold metal handle on her thigh. She remembered the day Tim had given her the knife, 5 inches of 1095 steel sharpened to a razor edge, and they had joked. But she knew that day that she loved him. She knew and she would never be able to tell him. Stryk crouched over top of her, grabbing her left arm and pulling her up to stair in her face. Sound came rushing back, as he finished his rant, “Agent Johnson, you lose.” He grinned, and with every bit of adrenaline that still flooded her body, she slammed the knife hard into his neck. It entered in just to the side of his Adams apple. Continuing the motion, she slammed the handle backwards, so it pivoted in his neck. She knew she had succeeded when the arterial spray coated her hand. Severing both the carotid and jugular he would bleed out in seconds. His eyes were wide with shock. He fell away from her grabbing his throat. She turned away from him, lying back on the pavement. Sirens sounded, but she couldn’t tell how far away. The ground was slick with blood all around her and she was so cold. She didn’t know how many minutes past, but she could feel the foot falls on the ground, hear the rapid voices… and he found her.
By Maili Paul4 months ago in Chapters
Nichole
She thought back to the waiting room. So long ago when she had made the decision to let death chase her. And chase it had, through the underground, through prophecy, through the wars, she watched the eastern coast burn as they ran. She ran, death at her heals… dancing with her… sometimes so close, it whispered in her ear. And now, it chased her across the water. She felt the ship sway and she starred back at the woman in the mirror. Her hair was streaked white, pulled back in the worn clip. She didn’t remember getting old, it just kind of happened. And just as she couldn’t see how incredibly gorgeous she was in her youth, she couldn’t see how distinguished she was in her age. She held the cloth to her mouth as she coughed. When she first got sick, she hid it well… But the cough became uncontrollable, and the rumors spread like the disease in her body. At least the black handkerchief hid the blood. She took a shuttering breath and turned on her heel. Long ago she shed the poised dresses for more practical clothing. If you plan to outrun death… Her tight black leggings hugged her still muscular legs. But her curves had been lost to the disease. She concealed the loose skin beneath a tunic of blood red and wore a slightly heeled leather boot. Her two guards flanked her as she exited her quarters. Her assistant sat with the wheelchair. She moved too slowly now, too unsteady on the rock of the ship to walk. They maneuvered through the narrow corridor and out onto the deck where the sun beat down mercilessly. She was greeted with the cheers that broke her heart and lifted her spirits. Here were her people, who loved her. Her people, who were half starved, beaten, but not broken. Here were her people she loved. The prophetess came and knelt before her. She raised her eyes to Nichole and gave her a tearful little smile. Nichole returned the smile. Brushing her hands across the young girl’s cheek. “None of that. Tomorrow, we land in the forgotten place and the people need you.”
By Maili Paul4 months ago in Chapters
Chasing the Blood
I tapped away at the keys. Tap- tap- tap… writing always cleared my head when I had something to write about. No, not when I had something to write about, but when the voices in my head became so loud, they demanded to be heard. Something to deal with, letting the white of the paper lend ear to insanity. It helped me avoid my addiction or at least it prolonged the inevitable.
By Maili Paul9 months ago in Chapters
Angel Documentaries
Most people didn't want to live up to humanity but to have humanity survive down to them. It taxed her. The smallest boy next to her had crawled into his brother’s bed. Rolling her eyes to turn on the iris camera, she blinked the image of the two boys, real humanity.
By Maili Paulabout a year ago in Fiction
Mal'ak ha-Mashhit
"Thunder," as he spoke his gaze wandered. I inhaled sharply, impatiently, "What did she look like." Third time the vigilante blindsided everyone, killed someone, and disappeared. All I could only gather she was an average height female. "What color of hair?"
By Maili Paulabout a year ago in Fiction
Born
She seemed to float across the floor. Thin, tall, with a sharp face. Reaching his desk, she slammed the paper down. He skimmed it. A sarcastic chuckle accompanied his statement of disbelief. She just stared, unabashed. I barely caught the ghosts of self-doubt and insecurity. She had bottled those up, not allowing the weakness to show, not today.
By Maili Paulabout a year ago in Fiction
Addicted
“The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window…” I paused for dramatic effect. Watching people’s reactions was a favorite past time. 2 girls in the seat kitty corner from mine leaned in closer, lapping up the words like hungry dogs. As the story unfolded, the small freshmen sitting across the aisle pushed back into her senior sister’s body. My large jean quilt pulled up over her nose.
By Maili Paul2 years ago in Horror
Sgt Hoff
I remember snuggling into my dad’s chest, feeling the waves of exhaustion wash over my little body as he read the classics. Not many people have listened to Little Women, The Hobbit, and 20,000 Leagues by the time they were 8, I did. But my story doesn’t start here. It starts before my dad was born. It starts with the death of a soldier. I’ve never been to war and I’m maybe the wrong person to tell you; but there isn’t anyone else. On an unknown date, between 1942 and 1945, in one of the many trenches ripped into the European landscape died a man I know nothing about.
By Maili Paul2 years ago in Families
