For Flowing Streams
The Huntress
Across the hillside, sawdust lay dampened by the morning rain, like a valley of shattered glass reflecting the rising sun. Martin steadied his binoculars towards the forest tree line.
“There.” he said.
A massive boom reverberated through the silence. The target, attempting to run, staggered momentarily before losing the use of its legs and stillness was restored to the vale.
Molly realized the beast was still breathing when she approached and tears welled up in her eyes. Her father caught up in time to watch her position her rifle.
They stared in admiration before unsheathing their knives.
About the Creator
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More stories from Colton McClintock and writers in Fiction and other communities.
The Tower of Cormalfin
Pop sprang up the stairs with the fervor of a man a hundred years younger. Each alabaster step was lined with gold and studded with precious gems. On the walls of the tower were murals emblazoned with vibrant colors. There were warriors fighting vicious beasts, noblemen dressed in purple gowns with white frills, and portraits of what must have been the Builders. Children frolicked through the forest. Massive ships sailed up the Apsinro river. Pop had never seen such a beautiful display of art and history.
By Colton McClintock4 years ago in Fiction
What Walter Never Reads
If you are reading this, it means Walter trusted you enough to let you step inside the broom closet. Or maybe he did not notice at all. Either way, welcome. My name is Holly, and this notebook is not meant for me anymore. It is meant for you.
By Salman Writes3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Congrats on runner up! I loved this :)