Thriller
My learnings as a market researcher
Learning is the only way to move forward, the err to your growth is the belief that you know everything. The beauty of existence lies in challenging your limits, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and performing the tasks that scare you and motivate you to become a better version of yourself. Life has its unique ways of compelling you to embrace the unknown and forging you to uplevel your game.
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Chapters
The War of the Americas - Chapter VII
Author's preface: The earlier parts of the story can be found at the links. Chapter I, II, III, IV, V, VI Sylvia sat quietly in the very back row of the heavily armored prisoner transport bus with her head down and her hands ziptied behind her back. Four Mexican soldiers armed with FX-05 Xiuhcoatl rifles patrolled the aisle of the bus which currently was home to Sylvia and at least fifty other American POWs. All had been recently arrested after they were declared enemy combatants following the United States bombing of several targets along the US Mexican border including the city of Tijuana and the (formerly) busiest land border crossing in the world at San Ysidro. That crossing had been reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble by US cruise missiles launched from just offshore, killing hundreds, including at least 150 US customs and border patrol agents who had not been prewarned about the surprise attack. Sylvia was well acquainted with firearms and had great respect for the FX-05 assault rifle which was designed and built by the Dirección General de Industria Militar del Ejército (General Directorate of Military Industry of the Army) through the Fabricas Militares (Military Factory). The name translated roughly as "Fire Serpent", or literally "Turquoise-Serpent" in classical Nahuatl, a language with which Sylvia was only passingly familiar, unlike the six other languages she spoke fluently which included Latin, Ancient Greek, and Middle Egyptian along with Spanish, English, Italian, and German. The fact that she was fluent in Spanish or any other language was something she kept secret from the Mexicans and everyone else. The more they saw her as just another ignorant American the better. Her knowledge of Spanish had allowed her to learn a few things the guards had spoken amongst themselves thinking no one would understand. Importantly, she had heard that the war against Mexico was not at all popular in the United States. Donald Trump had gravely miscalculated the appetite of the average American for bloodshed, especially when it was American's blood that was being shed. The families of the CBP agents killed in the bombing of San Ysidro border crossing had rallied a huge number of Americans to their sides in protest and marched on Washington en masse. Thousands or even tens of thousands of Americans had been arrested and imprisoned in makeshift prison camps scattered around the Washington DC area. She and the other prisoners had been constantly on the move for almost a week. Changing from bus to bus as they slowly made there way to wherever it was they were going. She had learned that they were still in the Mexican border state of Baja, California and were heading to a newly erected prison camp somewhere just south of Mexicali. She had feared they would be flown to the mainland and imprisoned there, but at least for now that did not seem to be the plan. Sylvia was very afraid of what she might find when they finally did reach their destination. She had only been interrogated perfunctorily when initially arrested, a fact she was puzzled by, but knew a much more serious interrogation lay in wait for her. She had been rehearsing her cover story and was prepared for anything they might throw at her. The fact that she had been rehearsing and preparing a similar cover story to use with her own husband had she not decided to tell him about her new job with the CIA made the process much easier. The CIA had also helped her considerably in this regard by making sure she had rock solid alibis in place for each and every place she would claim to have been, and every thing she would claim to have done and been doing over the past almost two years of living in Mexico and working in the United States.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Chapters
The War of the Americas - Chapter VI
Dom opened his eyes and for a moment he thought he was in his own bed. He rolled over expecting to see his wife Sylvia lying next to him. Instead he saw a man in dress uniform looking down at him. Suddenly his memories rushed back and he recalled the dizzying events of the the past day. The US bombing of Mexico, the arrest order for all US citizens living in Mexico, Sylvia's calling her new employers for help, the arrival of the SEAL team, the death of his two beloved dogs, his wife's decision to stay behind, and his own decision to lie to the SEALs and say she had been killed. He winced as he recalled the gruesome death of the young Mexican soldier only inches from his own face. His mind replayed the moment when his head broke into pieces from the impact of a SEAL sniper round. He put his hand to his own face expecting the blood and bone chips to still be there, but they had all been wiped away and he was clean, though he desperately needed a shave. It had been a long while since he had any time to even think about grooming. His long, wavy black hair must look like a bees nest he thought before chastising himself for worrying about his appearance at a time like this. The last thing he remembered was the sands of the beach exploding all around as he and the SEAL team boarded the small RIB and raced north as quickly as they were able. He managed to prop himself up onto one elbow just as the man standing next to his bed spoke "Dr. Platt, How are you feeling? My name is Lieutenant Tim Stephens, medical officer aboard the USS Jack H. Lucas, but everyone calls her the Luke or Cool Hand Luke for short. On behalf of the Navy I would like to officially welcome you aboard and express my sincerest sympathies at the death of your wife. We are now officially at war with Mexico and sadly she will not be the last American to die I'm afraid." He paused there. Dom had heard the genuine sadness in the young Lieutenants voice, and it was reflected in his dark brown eyes. He was grateful for the expression of sympathy, even if it was misplaced. His wife was not dead. His dogs however, were, and his emotional reaction to that terrible news once again played to his advantage as tears came to his eyes almost immediately as he thought of them. Lieutenant Stephens of course thought they were for his wife and continued to stand silently over him waiting patiently for Dom to get his emotions under control some until saying anything more. Before he could speak again there was a banging at the door of the small medical room where Dom had been brought to rest and recover. It swung open and two men in suits and wearing dark sunglasses strode into the room. One of them spoke "Lieutenant Stephens you are dismissed, we need to speak with Dr. Platt, now." It was strange to see two men who appeared to be civilians summarily dismiss a Navy officer and Dom fully expected some protest from the Lieutenant, but instead he simply nodded his head and quickly moved out of the room, shutting the door behind him as he went.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Chapters
This Isn't Spring Break Anymore. Content Warning.
Zoie vaults over her neighbors fence, entering their empty backyard, her vision darts towards a sliding glass door pairing with a cemented porch, along with history of an encounter, exhibiting decals of blood on its material.
By Noah Lichtenbergabout a year ago in Chapters
The Search For Andromeda
Epilogue: The Edge of Darkness Months had passed since the day Elara and her team had contained The Devourer. The lab, once a beacon of scientific advancement, had become a high-security facility under constant surveillance. Defense ships hovered in orbit, their presence a stark reminder of the threat that lurked within the singularity core.
By Emmanuel Oyewaleabout a year ago in Chapters
The Search For Andromeda
Chapter Five: The Last Stand The lab was a hive of activity, a cacophony of alarms, data streams, and the hum of high-powered machinery. Elara stood at the center of it all, her gaze fixed on the holographic display that dominated the room. The ripple—the entity, The Devourer—was still approaching, though its speed had been slightly diminished by the EMP pulse. The delay was a temporary reprieve, but it had bought them precious time.
By Emmanuel Oyewaleabout a year ago in Chapters
This Isn't Spring Break Anymore
Zoie awakens from her feverish dream, pouncing up in her parents bed, the sheets ruffle from her sudden motion. She darts around the room; her heart pounding, her breath exaggerated, her body sweating, and her head spinning as she reels in the information.
By Noah Lichtenbergabout a year ago in Chapters
The Search for Andromeda
Chapter Four: The Devourer's Call The lab’s lights dimmed as the energy surge reverberated through the systems, casting eerie shadows across the room. Elara’s heart pounded in her chest, the cold presence she had sensed now growing stronger, more defined. The ripple in the data was no longer just a glitch—it was a harbinger, a sign that something immense and malevolent was on the move.
By Emmanuel Oyewaleabout a year ago in Chapters
The Search for Andromeda
Chapter Three: The Awakening Storm The glow of the singularity faded from the screen, but the pulse of its energy remained in Elara's mind. She could feel it—a constant hum, a reminder of the knowledge now embedded in her consciousness. As she moved through the lab, the weight of her decision settled over her like a shroud.
By Emmanuel Oyewaleabout a year ago in Chapters
The Search for Andromeda
Chapter Two: The Dawn of the Unknown Elara stood frozen before the being of light and darkness, her mind a whirl of questions and fears. The landscape around her seemed to pulse with the same rhythm as the singularity she had just encountered, as if this world itself was alive, breathing in tandem with the ancient knowledge she had unlocked.
By Emmanuel Oyewaleabout a year ago in Chapters
The Last Voyage
The sun dipped low over the horizon as the luxury yacht Elysian cut through the gentle waves of the Mediterranean. Onboard, a celebration was underway—a high-stakes gala for the wealthy elite, hosted by the enigmatic and charismatic billionaire, Victor Caldwell. The yacht was resplendent, with its polished decks, flowing silk drapes, and chandeliers twinkling like stars.
By Aashik Ismailabout a year ago in Chapters
