Fan Fiction
Fire and Water
A loud knocking echoed through the abandoned house Raven was staying in. She quickly jumped to her feet, hands ablaze, ready to take on anything that could have made the noise. No one entered the room and after some time she slowly started to make her way to the front door, hands still ready for a fight. She let her left hand extinguish so she could turn the doorknob and when she opened it, no one was there, just a little brown paper box.
Calvin's Care Package
The paper was the weird part. Calvin had received countless care packages from his parents during his first year at ISU -- ok, countless packages from Mom and one short letter from Dad reminding him that degrees were expensive and failure builds character -- but none of them had ever come wrapped. Really, “wrapped” wasn’t the right word here. To say that something has been wrapped implies a level of care that escaped whoever mailed this particular parcel.
Steven A JonesPublished 3 years ago in FictionHoney
Mattie heard the door knock and lethargically went toward the door. After all this date was not favorable to her, nor advised by her roommate. She had not told her mother about any of this due past history. Mattie believed in forgiveness and prosperous futures with blissful reunions, so she was obligated by her personal beliefs.
Brodrick SheffieldPublished 3 years ago in FictionBruce
My name is Bruce and in 1996 I was a big kid. The kid who was always hungry but needed to be on a diet. But after the incident of 1996, I became something different. Let me explain.
Jason FriendPublished 3 years ago in FictionRoulette
The game is called Roulette. It isn't your typical casino game. There is no wheel or any numbers. There is no little white ball. This game is more along the lines of Russian roulette but not quite. There's no gun. There's no single bullet. Death is not the fate of the loser. Survival is not the motivation of the winner either, instead it's a million dollar prize.
Tyrone LivingstonPublished 3 years ago in Fictionproblem child
Another double shift was over , Joan clocked out and headed for the locker room , she changed out of her scrubs and headed home .
Edwin RosengrenPublished 3 years ago in FictionBaker Street
Prisms hung in my living room, the light shining through refracting rainbows onto the wall. The beautiful patterns instantly brought me back to the childhood summer. The one that not only changed my life forever but gave me a new appreciation for life and the things that some take for granted. Thoughts of Mr.Pendleton always made me smile as I watched the prisms dance on the wall. Returning to the recipe box in front of me I looked down. Carefully thumbing through the recipes inside, the neat handwriting on each card bringing me back even further to that summer.
Misha AlslebenPublished 3 years ago in FictionDeliver Me From Chocolate
Bruce Bogtrotter was a decidedly large man, the result of a childhood filled with trauma and the guilty pleasure derived from that. He was also Lexi’s first client of the day.
Jay VillinPublished 3 years ago in FictionIt takes soup.
As a toddler, little Miss Honey had to find ways to cope with her dad’s absence. She was way too young to understand death. But she understood feelings very well. In her mind, she knew that her Aunt Trunchbull was mean. Because of that, she wanted to do anything she could to reduce that meanness.
Ashley MackeyPublished 3 years ago in FictionCookie's Bakery
Bruce Bogtrotter Jr. was a freshman at Wormwood University. After his first day of classes, he worked up an appetite. While on his way to the cafeteria, he passed by the school’s bakery. His first instinct was to slither like a serpent and eat the entire confection. But he himself was no sneak thief. So, he ignored the sweet scents and proceeded to go and get lunch.
Ashley MackeyPublished 3 years ago in FictionSay It Again Part 3
When we land, Reid and I hop into one of the black SUVs provided for us. I drive, and Reid fills the silence in the car with random facts about World War I until I turn the radio on. I flip through the stations looking for a good one. Country station, country station, country station. Finally, I find a nice one that plays a nice mix of music.
Silent Screams
They weren’t expecting much of a fight from the twenty-nine year old college student and activist they had been sent to kidnap; who was mostly deaf, barely verbal, and rarely wore her hearing aids. The two men knew all this because they had been watching her for days. She was currently loading a box of supplies and handmade rally signs next to the now empty cooler in the hatchback trunk of her car.
Haddessah Anne BricePublished 3 years ago in Fiction