Mystery
A Curse to Break; Chapter 8
The next few days pass without any excitement. I sit silently in the back of the covered wagon as we move during the day and at night, the leader now forces me to sit out by the campfire until I'm yawning. I still don't know where they're taking me. I can't muster up the courage to ask where I'm being taken; not that they were likely to give me an answer anyway. My dread grows with each passing day. I can't help but wonder if I am actually being taken anywhere. They could be taking me in circles for all I knew. Either way, the dread continues to grow. Why me? If this 'captain' had done his research, he'd know I was a useless captive. My family wouldn't pay much for me.
By Katarzyna Crevan2 years ago in Fiction
Fox Hunt: Chapter 9
I dismount when I can finally hear the rushing of the falls. I'd walk the rest of the way, and give the horse a break; we had made better time than expected. With luck, I wouldn't be waiting too long for the militiaman I'd be working with to show up. I can feel my lips twisting in disdain at the thought of him. Priamos had assured me he was good, that he would be helpful, but it didn't change the fact I didn't want a partner. I was more than capable of handling this myself. Yet, orders were orders.
By Katarzyna Crevan2 years ago in Fiction
I have a story to tell, but I might not make it out of here alive.
I have a story to tell, but I might not make it out of here alive. Everything feels very cramped. I don’t really feel like I have a ton of rights at the moment. Some days, I just listen and listen and listen… I hear the humdrum of voices and other sounds on the other sides of these walls. The conversations that people have around me don’t really make a lot of sense in my mind. They are just words, I guess. Some voices are kind of familiar. Every now and then, there are new voices that I don’t recognize.
By Rowan Finley 2 years ago in Fiction
Highway 91. Top Story - September 2024.
The newly paved Vermont asphalt rose and fell like the summer waves he used to watch as a boy growing up on the sea shell riddled shores of Cape Cod. Leaves, ablaze with New England’s one-of-a-kind rich autumn hues, descended from their cold branches and decorated their ascent up the mountain side. They twirled and danced across the quiet back road, morphing into faint red and orange tornadoes as Timothy’s Jeep shifted gears.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
A Friend In Need
I'm tied to a large stone chair one might call a throne, surrounded by large creatures of indertiminate species. Indeterminate only because I can't fully see them. They are lurking in shadows. Either way, this might be my final resting place if our plan doesn't work. Their leader, Dimitri Arakova, sits across from me in a throne as well. His is gilded and plush. Mine is hard rock with channels along the arms and seat to guide bodily fluids away to a drain in the floor that leads to who knows where.
By Adam Diehl2 years ago in Fiction
