Short Story
The Four Bloodlines
Chapter 1: The Outcasts In the hidden corners of London’s magical underworld, four powerful bloodlines stood divided by secrets, curses, and ancient rivalries. From these families came four children — each burdened by a life they never chose. Piero, the boy with fire in his blood, was raised by the Blackthorn family of werewolf hunters. Ironically, he bore the very curse they despised. Locked away during full moons and beaten for his uncontrollable nature, Piero lived in fear of himself and his “disgrace.” Velvet, born into the Nightshade coven, was the daughter of a feared enchantress. Her beauty was haunting, and her mind was sharper than any spell. Yet she was never loved — only used as a pawn for power and alliances. Her emotions were bound by an icy mask of control. James, came from the noble vampire family, the Crimson Fang. Yet he was born without fangs — a “defect,” as his pureblood family called it. He was shunned, humiliated, and treated as a servant in his own home. Still, James held deep knowledge of dark arts and survival.
By Unsworth Macpatrick 10 months ago in Fiction
Thanksgiving For Lost Memories
Part 1 For the first time in a long time, Thanksgiving was quiet. There were no arguments, accusations, bickering or fighting. The day started calmly, and it looked like things were going to stay that way. With the parents not there, the Thompson siblings knew this was their moment to bring order to a long-neglected place they once called home.
By Dean Traylor10 months ago in Fiction
Don’t Feed The Birds
The breeze rustled through the trees and up the hairs on Laura’s neck as she pulled in her pockets to her waist. Sunshine beaming through made it just tolerable for a stroll in the park. Her father offered his hand to cross the street. “Too cold.” She stared into his warm face.
By Ginny Newland10 months ago in Fiction
Glorious Dead. Content Warning.
“For I parted then with valiant men…” - The Foggy Dew, An Irish Revolutionary Song -0- Far out into the hills, pipes began to call their lingering, mournful dirge. It bounced and echoed, harmonizing with itself as the piper played. In perfect time, the call and response of the pipes and the hills melded and blended together until the pipes themselves were lost in their own echoes. Until the very hills and valleys seemed to sing a lament of their own.
By Alexander McEvoy10 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 40
Chapter 40 Sara moved in silence, the battlefield quiet now except for occasional comments carried on the wind from those that had watched the once sided battle from the Wall. She knelt by each fallen mercenary, hands steady as she searched their bodies. Coins, weapons, scraps of parchment, and relics were gathered with care, each item tucked away without ceremony. She did not rush. She did not speak.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)10 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 39
Chapter 39 Unwilling to accidentally be unavailable when the first new citizens reached Haven Valley, Sara avoids diving into the Dungeon or heading out to search deeper into the valley. Instead, the next two days in Haven Valley were filled with the steady rhythm of creation. Sara worked tirelessly, her hands glowing faintly as she called upon Create Basic Object, shaping spores into hardened forms.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)10 months ago in Fiction
The Night the Stars Forgot Their Names. AI-Generated.
On the night the stars forgot their names, Rayan was the only person awake on the rooftop. He stood there with a mug of warm chai, expecting the usual comforting view—the stitched blanket of constellations he had admired since childhood. But tonight, the sky felt strangely empty.
By shakir hamid10 months ago in Fiction
One Tag, a Thousand Doors
The Lost Key Elena had always been careless with keys. Her apartment keyring looked like a jailer’s nightmare—dozens of keys for old apartments, forgotten locks, and random gates she no longer remembered opening. Every morning she stood at her door, trying key after key, cursing under her breath.
By CEO A&S Developers10 months ago in Fiction
A Spark to Be Seen
Eli used to count footsteps. It was the only way to know who was home. His father walked heavy and fast, always moving with purpose. His mother walked lightly, but with a clipped pace that meant she had somewhere else to be. His older sister, Leigh, walked with her earbuds in, so the beat of her music thumped the floorboards before she did.
By Logan M. Snyder10 months ago in Fiction
