Series
Night Shift
No matter where you go, there you are; So it goes, right? Honestly these days I’m not so sure anymore. Not after seeing it again. I should add some context I guess, I apologize. Let me start by saying if you’re reading this, it’s probably the closest thing to what’s really going on that we’ll ever get.
By Kuro Seijaku 4 years ago in Fiction
A ghost who has been haunting a family for generations finds a way to move on when a new family member arrives.
The chateau remained on a slope, its stone walls and turrets creating a dull and unfavorable shaded area over the encompassing open country. For ages, the chateau had been home to a similar family, and for ages, it had been spooky by a spooky figure.
By Subash Sugumar4 years ago in Fiction
Nomad Jake
Once upon a time, there was a man named Jake who had always dreamed of traveling the United States and visiting every national park. He had always felt confined in the traditional 9 to 5 lifestyle, and he was searching for a way to escape the monotony and find some adventure.
By Aaron Soares 4 years ago in Fiction
Isolation
The big metal sign that we drove under says Olavar Academy and I sigh. It was one of the most run down trade centers there was. It was known as being where the drug addicts and thieves went to be reformed. The car went past the security and all the way to the back of campus where the buildings were really run down and weren’t used anymore.
By Lillibeth Rayanne4 years ago in Fiction
The Tale-Telling Wall
Once upon a time, in a small village, there was a wall that could talk. The wall was a part of a grand old castle that had seen many battles and had heard many secrets. The villagers whispered that the wall had been cursed by a wicked sorceress and that was why it could talk. But the wall didn't mind. It had a tale to tell and was happy to have someone to listen.
By Djan Dickson4 years ago in Fiction
The Pillar of Adam
Chapter 1 Dear diary, Today was a long and grueling day, much like every other day in our small village of Sheebsville. As I sat at the kitchen table with my parents, I couldn't help but feel a deep sadness for our circumstances. My mother and father work tirelessly to make ends meet, but no matter how hard they try, it never seems to be enough. I often go to bed hungry, my stomach growling in protest, and I can see the same hunger reflected in my parents' eyes.
By Nathan Kontney4 years ago in Fiction
