Microfiction
Wildfire
I have failed as a hero! I was able to save and protect this world, but I was unable to save two of the most important men in my life my brother and my uncle. I find myself so grief stricken I cannot bare to face the world or the rest of my family. I thought after rising as a hero for the last 7 years of my life and winning constant battles and fights I was strong enough for anything and anyone. But not this time since there was only so much, I could do. I was even told by my uncle that there will be times where I sometimes cannot save everybody and that shouldn’t hold me back from continuing to do this. He was a hero himself and I know heroes will even make the ultimate sacrifice which is themselves for the lives of others. But I still felt like it was my responsibility to not lose him and my brother too.
By Joanna Blaze2 years ago in Fiction
Paul: A New Kind of Hero
When Paul was a little boy, he was shy and clumsy. The other kids would make fun of him, saying he wouldn't ever be anyone great. Sometimes Paul believed them. He was afraid to say what he thought or how he felt. He was just there. But he knew one thing, deep down inside of him, he had really big dreams. But of course, these were just dreams.
By Judith Jascha2 years ago in Fiction
A Reckoning
Swish. “Ahh!” They were whipping her for tripping, for disturbing the order, for being an Outlier. Silas was an Outlier too. They all were. His entire community had lived outside the control of the Swarm for generations. But now they had been enslaved. The Swarm border continued to stretch outward like an expanding pool of blood.
By D.K. Shepard2 years ago in Fiction
Once Upon A Time
Don’t be frightened of my appearance. I know at first glance, the melting of my features is grotesque, and you fight every urge to flee, but please stay and listen to me. What you observe is one of many. For, you see, I can manipulate myself and create the most ravishing of man or woman. I can shift into the wondering wolf or precious feline and tell tales of wonderous adventure. So much so that you will believe you are there as heroes in the webs, I weave with words. Will that please you? If not, I can emerge a figure of bizarre shapes with monstrous appendages, and you will realize every torment I present to you as truth. How did I become such a being? Woe the years, dreaming and fantasizing of being the world’s next most fantastic author. How I longed for it. Hours upon hours of placing words onto paper for no one to read. Endless nights were spent speaking into empty ears. They mocked me. They all pretended they cared about my superior craft. They saw me wither away into that dark corner, and all they had to do was listen. Listen to my stories. They took everything from me. My dreams were crushed into tiny pieces of worthlessness and regret. However, all that has changed now that I have you, my reader. Heed my warning; my words have power. The transformation into the worlds I created for you is painless but, unfortunately, permanent. Every single detail will become your reality. Please do not be afraid. Oh dear, my apologies: I nearly forgot to tell you my name in all this excitement. You may call me The Narrator.
By Anthony Diaz2 years ago in Fiction
