Fantasy

DRAGONs of Silicon Valley
There weren't always DRAGONs in the Valley. Before you start getting images of fire-breathing, treasure-hoarding, knight-defeating cousins of dinosaurs, let me clarify a few things.
By Julie Lacksonen4 years ago in Fiction
The Scales of Splendor
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. They had arrived like meteorites; they plummeted from space in pods in the Chinese Year of the Dragon, 2024. Their place to live on the earth was actually part of the Delaware Valley in Wilmington, Delaware, United States of America. As they awoke across the land, they remained untamed and wild.
By Skyler Saunders4 years ago in Fiction
The Little Monster
It was a trying year for Philip Muzzello. Going through some sort of mid-life crisis, he had purchased – on credit at a fixed APR of 15% – the red Italian sports car of his dreams. He had no idea it would lead to his end-life crisis.
By Robert Bear4 years ago in Fiction
The Little Monster
Attempts to teach Eugene proper English turned into frightful fits of tears. Veronica Frankenstein simply could not understand how such a simple construct as ‘Good afternoon, Sir.’ could be transformed by the child into utter nonsense.
By Robert Bear4 years ago in Fiction
The Little Monster
The young boy was a monster of a child. I don’t mean he was your average, run-of-the-mill kind of monster child, taking pleasure in tormenting his big sister or setting neighborhood cats on fire. He was an honest-to-goodness kind of monster; certified, and independently verified through the strictest of scientific methods.
By Robert Bear4 years ago in Fiction
The Four Horses
When He broke the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, "Come." And another, a red horse, went out; and to him who sat on it, it was granted to take peace from Earth, and that men would slay one another; and a great sword was given to him.
By Robert Bear4 years ago in Fiction
Revenant
Chapter 1 “Only the dead have seen the end of war.” - Plato * * * There weren't always dragons in the valley. In fact, there was a time in which there were no dragons at all. There were no dragons. There were no daemons. There were no undead monstrosities seeking nothing less than the complete eradication of all living things.
By Robert Bear4 years ago in Fiction
A Tale for Tarragon
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley…”, my mother would say just before she recounted the tale of our former home in the Ashlynn hills of Tarragon. I was just a small child in those days when she and my father tried to flee the fire that came from the mountains in the West. My father managed to save my mom and I from the flames, but a wooden beam from the roof ended up falling on top of him as he reentered our house to save whatever he could of our remaining possessions. The blaze grew so wildly and quickly that we didn’t have time to recover him before the flames engulfed his already lifeless body. Something terrible had been burned and branded into my mother’s mind in that second and it haunted her memories from that moment on forward. Whenever she’d tell the story of that dreadful day, her face would always portray a deep longing to forget what had happened, but she couldn’t stop thinking about my father and all that we had lost. The only way we’d really communicate was through her stories, she lived through her stories as they seemed to be the only thing that brought her true solace. Her reality had become too much for her to handle it seemed and she eventually succumbed to the burden of its weight.
By Amore Massages 4 years ago in Fiction
She Wakes Once More
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. They slept as mountains all around us. The silent sentinels of our valley. The Amaranth Valley.
By Sarah St.Erth4 years ago in Fiction
Hurricane Season
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. The Valley was rather far off the normal migration routes. Dragons flying north to the Canadian Rockies kept to the airways over the Sierra Nevada range, the Cascades, and the Rockies. Those heading for their normal breeding grounds in the eastern portions of North America—the Great Adirondack Park, and further north into maritime Canada—usually kept to the route above the Appalachians and Adirondacks. Dragons seldom veered off-route to fly over the Blue Ridge Mountains.
By Hillora Lang4 years ago in Fiction
Sun Dragons from Alpha Centari
There wern't always Dragons in the Valley , yet the old Antarian dragon named Bogum was still there. He always had soup cooking in a caldron in his hut, even at his age of 132 dragon years he could guard the valley. His parents were sun dragons that had given him the orange glowing body with amber stone scales that he polished with bees wax. He didnt have a long flowing beard or carry a staff like other elders, infact he glowed a luminscent orange that made him appear young. With his ability to float he swept over the air above the grassey fields to attend his sheep that he kept sacrid. He grew a special plant that he sprinkled with fairy dust , allowing the sheep to grow rainbow hides that made majical coats for the village folks who admired his work. The sheep were not for eating, as he grew a vegetable that tasted as wild as the meat, as he couldnt bare to sacrifice any of his animals. Living on Alpha Centauri was like living in a surrealistic world far beyond the distant stars of its binary star system. Dragons were made within a holographic box using lazor beams designed by the sun aliens many eons ago. Bogum knew he was their invention, although he liked to view them as his parents. They too didnt live in the valley , as they lived on the twin planet and visited him ever so often. He watched them land in their suncraft from his cabin window, the sand swirling like a whirlwind around the decending spacecraft. It was very exciting to see them again with xray glowing sun bodies as Bogum ran up to greet them with arms flying in the air as its ufo lights were bright in the hot air. The door to the craft slowly opened where two sun aliens steped out looking like glowing pumkins in the autumn surroundings. They both had smiles on their faces as they spoke no words , using only telapathic images for communication. Bogum was hugging them as they motioned for him to enter their ship. He had never been inside their craft as he silently motioned with his hands asking if they were sure he could step inside. They were nodding their heads saying yes, using hand motions gesturing them into the humming craft. Once inside Bogum could see blinking lights and seats. The feeling of being in a living craft was esperating as his body floated among his two sun friends as he wondered why they had come, They seemed to know his thoughts as they motioned him to go into another room that must have been their sleeping quarters. There on a raised bed was a women he could see covered with a tan sheet. Bogum had a look of suurprise on his face as he asked with his eyes why she was there. The sun aliens were excited about their prize and explained with their hands she was only sleeping. Bogum had never seen a human before, let alone a female one. They were all gawlking at her, and yet Bogum wondered what they planed to do with her. They tried to explain that they intended to use her as a all seeing eye once they brought her to the galatical communications hub where her body would be inside a glass dome having her thought waves transmit as a server. Bogum stroked his dragon beek and thought for a few seconds, he then explained to them that she could not do so since she was unconscious, as her thoughts need to be awake. He then asked them where they had found her and why they had taken her. They motioned with their hands waves of the sea, as Bogum guessed she must have drowned. He then tried to reason with them that she was not suited for a Oracle of telecommunications and that he would take care of her and free them of the burdan that she had become. THe sun beings questioned what he would do with her as they gazed at her peacefull sleeping face shrouded within the misty spacecraft.
By Ocusan M4 years ago in Fiction
Blue
“There weren't always dragons in the Valley. There wasn’t always a valley. Before valleys became popular, most places just had big flat spaces— then someone decided to, quite literally, shake things up a bit. That’s how we got all this topsy turvy stuff going on with high bits and low bits. Somehow the high bits got higher and the low bits got even lower until some clever bugger decided it would be a good idea to throw fire into the mix— which of course set off the chain reaction of lava sprouting everywhere and before you could say ‘what’s that sulphur smell?’ we had volcanoes. I won’t tell you who brought in the water, but I guess it had to be done. Somehow the water went from up in the sky to down on the ground. Then it just kept going in a cycle until we had these long flowing snake-like things that went into big pools of goodness knows what, but it can’t have been good for anyone because before you knew it, we had this green stuff growing everywhere, I don’t know why it was green, and who got to decide what green even is but they clearly didn’t know what was good for themselves. Or for us. That’s how we got these big green bits and small green bits. Then of course, some clever dick decided we had to name all this stuff— dunno whose idea that was but of course it brought on disagreements on all sides because— what is a name? I don’t know why they decided these names, but they did, and now we have mountains and rivers and trees and grasslands and heather and council meetings and taxes and rebates and valleys. And that Valley in particular was pleasant and peaceful and quiet and nobody was that fussed about naming anything because… well we’d already been through all that. Nothing new. No more names. Peace was a plenty. We were full of peace.
By Matt Baron4 years ago in Fiction