Fantasy
The Scarlet Luna
I checked my phone to see what time it was. I had just pulled into a gas station to fuel up. I've been driving for a good five hours, dead set on only stopping to get gas. I was headed to my hometown. I still had another hour until I'd be home. I was going to be late. I checked the price of gas and almost snarled. "That's almost four dollars, you got to be kidding me," I hissed sourly through my teeth. Did gas get more expensive as I drove home or what? My phone buzzed with a text from dad, call me. I rolled my eyes but hit the window on the car to see Mal practically jump as I woke him up. He had been resting in the back with drool getting on the window. I opened the door to give him the phone. "Here, call dad while I pump gas."
By Jay Skylar 4 years ago in Fiction
The -42 degrees
It is wearing thick cotton shoes, but also with bare feet on the ice. The "cold" is no longer called cold, but "pain". The forehead and the back of the head have the kind of pain when being hit hard. The nose was in so much pain that I had to breathe through my mouth. And the ears seem to have hardened.
By Moxadple ggg4 years ago in Fiction
The bathhouse
Taking a bath should be a very happy thing. Why else would so many people like to sing at the top of their lungs in the bath? --Beginning with one person humming, and then another person singing out. And so one by one, eventually a chorus began. Later, the men's bathhouse next door also began to respond enthusiastically. A different atmosphere of joy in the crashing water drums and drums of trembling, trembling, trembling, the amplitude is getting bigger and bigger, the cycle is getting shorter and shorter ...... such joy does not know how to end. Even if it has ended, afterwards can not remember how it ended at that time.
By Moxadple ggg4 years ago in Fiction
The Ogre, The Hand and The Dragon
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. In fact, they visited so rarely they were considered myth by the children of the village. Often they would outfit the chosen kid with sticks and bark, mimicking the great talons and claws of the beasts, whilst the others ran and screamed. They fled into the long grass and farmlands, to the distaste of the farmers, awaiting their hunter with baited breath and uncontainable giggles of anticipation.
By Antony Titley4 years ago in Fiction
Kore'aka
Before time began, Kore'aka was. When he participated in the formation of the cosmos, still he was. He was a benevolent god, or so he liked to think. All he asked for was worship, a devoted high priest, and a new girl every year. Kore'aka liked girls. He thought they were his finest creation. Well, creations. There are quite a lot of them. Not infants though. He might have been a rather odd god, but nobody should be that odd. He liked them between 18 and 23 years old, opinionated, strong willed, but pliable enough to bend to the will of a deity. Oh, and they had to be virgins. No self-respecting god would accept a girl who wasn't a virgin. And they had to be absolutely gorgeous to be his. Anything less than exquisite was an affront.
By Ajogun Marindoti4 years ago in Fiction
The Ember in The Dark I
The adrenaline consumes Myrtha’s legs. What is left of Ahriman’s army is gaining speed towards her. The hooves of the remaining calvary violently thump the ground. Myrtha accustomed to the harsh environment fled up the wet slippery slopes of the green valleys and into the dense woodland perched on top. She tries to raise her feet high enough to dodge the twigs sticking out. Myrtha keeps on running because she knows her life depends on it. She falls repeatedly picking herself straight back up and running each time, taking a few leaves with her. She falls and then rolls back to her feet. She is muddy, wet, and frightened. The horses make more noise than their riders. They are used to the hard cold concrete and yet, they are keeping up their speed with their sights set on Myrtha.
By Rosie J. Sargent4 years ago in Fiction
The First Wanderer at Foxglove Cottage
The teller of tales, myths and legends - passed down to him by the ancestors - had finally found the land of the fox. The legend of Foxglove Cottage was the most requested, yet he had never truly researched it. But with the help of an older teller of tales, he was here to learn the truth. The old women had told him to go to the land of the cornfields and to find the only field with fox gloves in it, and there he would find the tale of the fox.
By Hilda Rayner Stanley4 years ago in Fiction
The Hidden King
Prologue _______________________________________________________________________ A warm breeze meandered through the forest and into the lush green meadow near the summit of Drakkon mountain. As the sun started to brighten the dark night sky to the east, the elders of the dragon council gathered and sat quietly as the great elder king flew in and gracefully landed quietly on Drakkon Rock. He scanned the gathering and saw all the elders had answered his call.
By doug girard4 years ago in Fiction
The Hit Train.
To my left there was a hairy older fellow with a big beard. He was sleeping. There was a window. And the world was trying to catch up to us. There were flocks of birds. And the flaps of their wings were like little flip book pictures. It was early. I knew this because the staff was pouring orange juice and coffee. I could see a woman wearing red at the front spreading jam. I thought about the shallow funds in my bank account. But my friend back home reminded me to not worry anymore about money. And that it would replenish if I just learned how to be myself again. How could I be myself if I was always in a different world? I didn't even know where I was now. Or where this thing was headed. Matter of fact. I never ordered a train ticket. There was a ticket officer approaching my cabin. He asked for everyone's identification. But of course, I had no ticket. He was fierce. This was obviously an expensive trip. One man fumbled. He was sweaty and attempted to sprint to the restroom near the back of the cabin.
By John Strong4 years ago in Fiction
