Fan Fiction

THE MYSTERY TRAIN JOURNEY
The Runway Train A train was continuously running and was moving to Mumbai ( India )to Delhi . It was the mid of the night and most of the passengers were sleeping but a chamber in the middle of the train has almost 6 passengers and they all were abnormal . The 6 of them were completely stranger to each other but still they were continuously talking with each other even in the middle of night they were loudly talking and laughing which was distributing for the next chamber pasengers . A middle aged man complained about it to them and said them to not to talk loudly and to please maintain a discipline . After listening this a man from that group of physco passengers attacked on that man and killed him with his knife. The other 5 passengers of that chamber were clapping on the job done by that physco person and they decided to make the body of that man their dinner and the scene was so disturbing that they all were eating the bosy parts of that body and were continuously celebrasting it. Then they started a serious conversation from which we get to know that the group of people is in the present situation because they lose their near and dear ones from their life and the reason of death of their family members is none other than murder. Then they decided to search for he murdereronithe n train they were sure that the killers of their relatives muon be in the train when they did some ritual by burning some fire and speaking some religious chants to talk to the souls of their nea ones . Then the souls of the dead bodies were also with them to help them to find the killers. And they started continuously looking forward for the killers and they were now all around the train and few of them were able to the find killers . One of them when found the killer the punishment he decided was to throw that person out of the train imagine the speed of train was about 400km/h and the body of that person would be destroyed. The other two of them decided to eat their enemies and let their souls to be the servanmt of the souls of their relatives . basically it was a revenge journey of that 6 completely abnormal like zombie people. Then there was a a terrific environment in the train and then all of the passengers decided to do somtehing they all threw the six of them out of train with their unity. And then we saw a news reporter letting people know that the train which was going from Mumbai to delhi never reached delhi and police was continuously finding the train all over the track but even after years people were clueless about the location of that mystery train and it became the forever history.
By Ishwarprit Singh3 years ago in Fiction
Henry Jekyll's (Somewhat) Full Statement of the Case
I was born in the year 18-- to a fortune as grand as I am, wanting for nothing and praised by all. To be frank, there are few (if any) who match my prowess in entertaining and scientific knowledge; certainly there are few who may boast a more pleasing visage. Yet despite my obvious charms, there was this unremitting, vexing feeling that I could not yet name. Thus, one brisk afternoon, as I sat exhausted in my study after being forced to scream myself hoarse at the chambermaid (the ugly little thing had had the gall to ask for an advance on her wages), a thought struck me. Is there not a war waging within my breast? It seemed to me impossible that as pure a gentleman as myself harbored any malevolence, yet I was determined to push out even the smallest chip. I devised a plan to create a tonic to draw out this evil, thinking of all the good it would do myself (and of course humanity).
By Megan Kochanuk3 years ago in Fiction
Engine Surge
Engine Surge Head pounding, I opened my eyes with a long strain. I took a few minutes looking around my surroundings. To my surprise, I was laying on some random bed. There was a window near where I had been laying, that was draped closed. Feeling a mysterious pain in my head, I slowly worked my way over to the window and pulled the drapes open, letting some sunlight in. I looked out the window and saw the world outside was speeding past. “Where the hell am I?” I wondered out loud. I reached my hand up to my ear saying, “Fitz, come in, Agent Daisy Johnson reporting.” No response came. “Shit” I thought, “communication must be getting interfered with somehow.” I looked out the window and came to the conclusion that I had somehow been put on a train.
By Nathan Van Slyke 3 years ago in Fiction
The Last Ride
Michael woke up with a splitting headache. Once he gathered himself together, he realized that he was moving. Upon looking around he discovered that he was on a train. He was so confused. He had no idea why or how he got on there or where he was going. The last thing that he remembered was picking up his daughter from school.
By Tyrone Livingston3 years ago in Fiction
Your shape is the shape of the wind and novelists are wind catchers
In the era of epidemic, who is the most creative person? It turned out to be Cheng Yongxin. No one could have imagined that Cheng Yongxin would choose to spend this time by writing novels. Considering that Cheng Yongxin's career has been completely devoted to the career of novel editing, and that he has profoundly shaped the image of Chinese literature since the mid-1980s, his now claustrophobic manipulations in space and time further illustrate a basic Fact: Novels are not only the medium for Cheng Yongxin to contact the world, but also the most important channel for Cheng Yongxin to express his emotions, and it has even become an organ on his body.
By HO Chun Kit3 years ago in Fiction
A train to Choose
There is a flash of light; I sit confused and light headed. I have to knock the cobwebs out of my head, such a fog. This takes a minute. I realize that I was lying down sprawled across a few hard plastic seats. Peering around, I notice that I sit on a moving train but I have no idea where I’m going. The train car jumps like they all do while traveling their routes, I bump my head then sit up, rubbing the area that will have a sore spot soon enough. I can’t remember anything about my life but I know other things.
By John Lohnes3 years ago in Fiction
Dust Warrior - Chapter 1
Nikawa Fleetfoot was excited to start this grand adventure of becoming a Dust Warrior. She had heard so many amazing stories and she wanted to be the subject of those stories. The honor and glory that would be given to her clan as a result was incredibly important to her. In the land of Ogawa, the Fleetfoot clan were not at the bottom of the social totem pole, but they also were far from the top. That kind of social climbing would benefit her clan in so many ways. Thinking of all the riches and glory to come she walks into the forest leaving a rather obvious trail with her large clunky boots. They weren't elegant, but they got her where she needed to go so, she wouldn't complain. She wondered though if perhaps her name should be Thunderfoot instead of Fleetfoot. Chuckling at her own jest she continued looking for the "dreaded" Wignow, honestly how difficult could it be to defeat the little puffball. Sure, she had little to no experience but some of the monsters she had heard about seemed silly and easily defeated. She felt confident in her abilities and in her desire to travel and get out of Ogawa. She not only wanted to bring honor to her clan, but she also longed for the ability to travel wherever she wanted and to have grand adventures like she used to read about Sagantha Woods from the Wild-Elf Woods series. It was amazing to think that she was finally on her way. Stopping for a moment she scanned her surroundings and wondered where in the world she would find a Wignow. As she walked, she noticed the forest becoming more dense and the light more dappled. Slowly it began to get truly dark as she traveled into the depths of the forest beneath great high Margo Monstera trees. They had large green leaves that had what appeared to be tears and holes in them, but it's just how the leaves grow. It isn't damage of any kind. Stopping she stared up at the nearest Margo Monstera and reached as high as she could to pluck a leaf and study it more closely. As she did, she heard a rustling in the underbrush ahead of her and stopped. Her eyes strained into the shadows trying to determine what might be lurking there. The rustling became louder followed by some grunts and Nikawa felt her heart begin to beat fast. Suddenly when she felt she could take it no longer a smallish green ball of leaves came flying out of the bush.
By Nikky Affolder-Walker3 years ago in Fiction
The Art of Manipulation
******This fanfic is based off of the game The Quarry. I'm not a gamer but my best friends persuaded me to play this one- and it sent me into a dark abyss of obsession. Until I went on Pinterest, I thought I was the only one who read more into Laura and Sheriff Hackett's relationship. And you guessed it, that is what this story is going to be centered on. Of course, the other characters will pop up because who doesn't love a bit of Kaitlyn's sarcasm, Jacob and Emma's doomed love, the sweetness between Nick and Abi, and the flirtatious witty banter between Ryan and Dylan?
By Amanda Lyons3 years ago in Fiction
The Yellow Hibiscus Chapter 14
"Wait a minute," she called out, scrutinizing me 360 degrees. "Why don't you call her?" I bluffed, holding my gaze while looking directly into her eyes. My heart sunk to my knees when she walked to a phone mounted on the wall. She picked it up, dialed, refocused, and watched me like a cat watching a mouse.
By Annelise Lords 3 years ago in Fiction
Wood elf
The inkstand cast a trembling circular shadow, whose outline I was concentrating on. The clock was striking in a distant room, and I, again a dreamy dreamer, thought it was a knock at the door, softly at first, then louder and louder. The man struck twelve times, and stopped to wait.
By Gord Hyles3 years ago in Fiction
Wood elf
The inkstand cast a trembling circular shadow, whose outline I was concentrating on. The clock was striking in a distant room, and I, again a dreamy dreamer, thought it was a knock at the door, softly at first, then louder and louder. The man struck twelve times, and stopped to wait.
By Gord Hyles3 years ago in Fiction
Children on the road
I heard the car pass in front of the garden fence. Sometimes I peeped through the slight swaying of the leaves to see how the wheels and shafts of the carriage rattled on this hot summer day. The farmers came back from the fields, and they laughed loudly. This is immoral.
By Gord Hyles3 years ago in Fiction