Fantasy
"Shadow of Wishes: A Journey Through Time"
Chapter Three: In the Depths of the Tunnel Layla and Adam began advancing into the dark tunnel, which seemed to swallow the setting sun. The tunnel walls were covered with ancient engravings, distinguished by faint colors suggesting they were once decorated with vibrant hues. The atmosphere in the tunnel was charged with electricity, as if whispering both excitement and fear.
By Michael V. Meyers2 years ago in Fiction
"Shadow of Wishes: A Journey Through Time"
Chapter One: The Light of the ManuscriptThe wind howled through the alleyways of the ancient city, carrying with it the scent of the rain that had begun to fall gently. The large, old house that stood in the middle of the cobblestone square appeared abandoned and shrouded in darkness, as if hiding secrets yet to be revealed. This house was known for its association with strange tales, and a place where reality blended with legend.
By Michael V. Meyers2 years ago in Fiction
My thoughts on SUPACELL (NETFLIX SERIES)
"Supacell: A Fresh Take on Superpowers, but Is It Worth Watching?" I went into "Supacell" not knowing what to expect. With so many superhero movies and shows already out there, I wondered if this one could bring anything new. But after watching it, I realized that Supacell isn’t your typical superhero show. It feels fresh, different, and, at times, even personal.
By Cornelius Araoye2 years ago in Fiction
Bad Luck Absol
Absol always had a reputation. In the small town of Willow Creek, his name was whispered in hushed tones, like a curse. People said he brought bad luck, that wherever he went, misfortune followed. He didn’t believe in such superstitions—at least, not at first.
By The Kind Quill2 years ago in Fiction
Chicken of Justice
Cluckton is a small city with big problems, faced by crime and corruption. The people had reached a point where they felt helpless and were crying out because justice was unserved. But when the darkness of night fell, one unlikely hero emerged from the very alleys of this city. This would not just be any ordinary vigilante; this would be Cluckton's last hope: the Chicken of Justice.
By The Story Writer2 years ago in Fiction
A World Through Her Eyes: The Journey of Little Amara
In a quaint little hamlet, situated amidst rolling hills and a sleepy river, there lived an inquisitive young girl by chance called Ava. She was endowed with glittering amber eyes full of adventure and possessed a talent for spinning imagination into mind-blowing tales out of simple days. Yet, on one summer afternoon, feeling overwhelmed by desire to dance with the unknown; leaving behind familiar tracks of the community [her village] which she always walked on, she took to heart her venture into the forest that awaited beyond the mountains.
By Young Dreamer2 years ago in Fiction
Mirai
The snow country loomed. I stared at the desolation, the bleak whiteness that stretched for miles. Beneath the snow, ghosts of August cried in agony, their rice fields broken and cracked, hardly believing that life would ever be reborn. The wind was the only lover of the snow. It blew hastily, running through my bones and blood vessels until it left through the other side of my body. It looked back at me with a playful smile, inviting me to come again.
By Marco Blasco2 years ago in Fiction
SWORD OF EMOTIONS
Long ago, there was a kingdom known as Doragon. Doragon was a powerful and prosperous kingdom, feared by many and respected by all. Most kingdoms feared and respected Doragon because they had the strongest guardian animal, the Dragons, with whom they fought together, and they possessed a special sword known as Kanjō no ken – Sword of Emotions. This sword possessed a unique power that allowed it to be bound with the possessor's feelings, turning the possessor's emotions into extreme fighting power. If the possessor had a strong feeling of determination to win a battle, he would never lose. This sword could turn the tables around in an instant to favor the possessor.
By Chinwendu M. Ejimofor (CME_Edana)2 years ago in Fiction
Altar of the Uncrowned King
The wind howled through the narrow streets of the village, a chorus of lost souls tugging at the edges of my cloak in their search for answers. They always want something. Their voices, endless and ancient, buzzed in my mind, each one a faint echo of the lives I’ve outlived. My cloak fluttered behind me, snapping in the storm as I passed the crumbling walls. The stone was old, like me, older than the village itself. It knew things. It had seen things. It had seen us, once.
By Aaron Richmond2 years ago in Fiction
