Fantasy
Silah
A worn-down waste collection cart hastens across the field of snow. Multē's hands fumbled over the gears. He didn't know what was worse, the smell, the cold, his stress, or not learning how to navigate. His eyes were watering, his sweat burned, and he could feel both his hearts beating out of sync. He struck the command board several times, finally bringing on the headlights. He glanced back to where he secured the pod and took a deep breath. Returning his focus to the task at hand, he was suddenly surprised by several giant eyes burrowed in the snow- "Jitus!" he shouts-mountain giants. Multē accelerated, quickly maneuvering to evade their hurling snow asteroids along his path, "Just get across the field," he whispered. The giant's relentless hurls flipped Multē, leaving the cart scattered in the snow. With no place of coverage, his path was no longer discrete; Multē was injured, and the pod was damaged. Sirens howled into the night, and both his hearts became two separate storms within his chest, the blood beings finally realized what he had stolen from them, and it wouldn't be long before their military would be close behind and without mercy. Multē made an effort to shift into a snow beast the size of a bear with a lion's mane and moose's antlers and retreated into the forest Misitu.
By LaRissa Dawn 4 years ago in Fiction
The Dragon-Born and the Witch
It was very early in the morning when a small child, around the age of two, wandered off into the misty forest while their mother was outside tending to her herbs. The sunlight was just starting to peak through the tops of the trees while the ground was still eerily dark. At the edge of the trees fog was still visible as the sun hadn't yet touched it to disperse it in the first light and warmth of day. The mother was humming to herself a merry little tune as she went about her task. Her intuition began to itch that something was amiss and so looking up she noticed the child was nowhere in sight. It was common for her curious little one to wander off- after all, they were starting to take after their witch mother's own curious tendencies and were quite the independent child. However, she was always very strict to tell them that the forest was forbidden and off-limits for there were strange and mystical qualities about the forest, most of which were unknown. There were also rumors of a myriad of creatures living in it, of which many myths and legends arose among those who lived on their island, just off the coast of the mainland.
By Caitlin Porter4 years ago in Fiction
The Fetters of Lineage
Cinnamon and cider, pumpkin and pecan—the scent of baking fruit and vegetables, doused in spices, filled the air and buried the scent of wet leaves and compost. A woman danced along a cobblestone path, humming and holding a large basketful of dried autumn leaves in shades of auburn and gold. Long blonde waves fell down her back, swaying in the wind with the movements of her hips.
By Leann Evans4 years ago in Fiction
The Line
After falling into a trench, the boy blubbered for quite a distance while he searched for a way out. He went on for a while before slowing to a stop when a shadow seemingly bloomed from out of nothing. It sent a shiver down his spine as the sun had been entirely blotted out. His head craned further and further back until his neck could bend no more and he tumbled onto his rear.
By Mark Heffner4 years ago in Fiction
Starlight
The mountain air is cool, and dusk is settling in. The late fall sun has set. The leaves on the ground rustle restlessly as small animals come out for the night, disturbing the dried leaves that still retain some of their red and orange hues. A few leaves still cling determinedly to the trees, but they are in the minority.
By Alana S. Leonard4 years ago in Fiction
Adhira Part 1
Hello. My name is Adhira, and if you are reading this, I am most assuredly dead. If you are the one who killed me, your wounds are no doubt fatal, but I do hope you live long enough to read what you have started, as my words are invaluable to your kind. This entry is of my one and only experience with killing a human child, at least with my own hands. If you are weak of stomach, I would suggest you read a different entry, such as one of my cookbooks.
By Carlos Miguel Mireles4 years ago in Fiction
The Tales of Seven Dragons
It is bright and early when the older village children gather excitedly in the town square, clutching each a small coin and bit of bread, their deafening chatter drawing curious looks from some of the elders. Other adults know why the children are so riled up, and smirking to the rest explain: the local storyteller has promised to tell the children some new tales now that those going are old enough to hear them. Tales of some of the most amazing - and terrifying - creatures; dragons.
By Megan Baker (@thegothofsawpit)(@shadowsitheghoststrikebwr)4 years ago in Fiction
