Fantasy

An Unexpected Encounter
A disgruntled wind, cold as ice, bit at Rena's exposed skin as she forced her way through knee-deep snow towards the tavern. Thick furs covered her back and head and hands, but they seemed to make no difference against the elements that wormed through whatever gaps they could find. She figured it wouldn't take more than an hour for the storm to take her in its savage clutches.
By Sebastian Russo4 years ago in Fiction
The Love of My Life; A Gift
It was a hot sunny day in a flowery garden. Butterflies are everywhere, various vibrant color of roses too, the chaotic flowers of cosmos and lavenders. The sweet tweet-tweet-tweet of those littlely-tiny humming birds. The music of the waterfalls as it hugs the rocks below it, and the brilliant rays of the sun as it kisses the river.
By Hale Marie4 years ago in Fiction
Skyros
The Ancient Mystery forest had a certain serene environment that could only be encountered in such untouched wilderness. Through the canopies of the high trees, one could see the stars. Like snowflakes of silver, they sprinkled the night sky. Scurrying squirrels searched for food under the aging trees. The birds chirped to each other over dinner, chatting about their day. Mushrooms grew under the shady roof of the leaves, berries littered the uneven ground. The scent from the foliage mixed with damp and decay, ancient as it was, untouched for years.
By Tia4 years ago in Fiction
Transference
"Papa!" Annabelle Hestingford called out from her laboratory. It had, in earlier days, been a rather well-organized study. Annabelle's father, the Honorable Lord Hestingford, had given it over to her sole use when she reached ten years of age. His infectious curiosity and love of invention took to Annabelle as a much younger girl, and as such, many blamed him for his daughter's decidedly unladylike interests.
By Jonny McAwesome4 years ago in Fiction
Taron
Taron sits at the edge of the train line burrows, where a small stream meets the mouth of the forest and the two wind there languid way down to the brook. In her lap lies a red moleskin notebook with motto’s and sketches scrawled across its ageing pages. Quietly Taron narrates as she writes with passion, “Somewhere along the way between me leaving home and finding myself. Somewhere, I forgot what it was to be normal, whatever normal is. I got so caught up in recovery, in working, in keeping myself motivated, that I lost everything that I used to hold dear. I don’t want to be the person that looks back on their life in thirty years time and has nothing they are proud of. When I was eight I wanted to somehow get up there, among the stars in the sky. As far away as I could possibly get from my shitty coastal life… I went through a faze of praying every night before I went to sleep, because I stupidly thought that I would somehow find the answers I was looking for in a mystical man in the sky... But he never answered, and so I forgot about him. Decided instead to internalise my feelings, to try to suffocate the voices in my head. And now here I am twelve years later, going quietly insane in a world that won’t stop to let me get off.” The cigarette she has been smoking has now burned down to nothing and she flicks it away into a nearby dandelion.
By Al4 years ago in Fiction
Story of a Love Fruit
When she first saw him, she trembled green and raw upon a slender shoot. She knew she tasted unlike any fruit he’d eaten. He’d been walking in the woods as sun-dappled leaves cast on him a net of shadows. In a patch of brightness, she glowed softly, sending her scent to him. He plucked her.
By S. Venugopal 4 years ago in Fiction
RISING
Warmth could be sensed in just the slightest degree. It seeped slowly through rubble and muck. A nagging sensation tugged at a cloudy subconscious. Simultaneously, a physical urge to move overcame the smallest of atoms. A microscopic shift could be felt, and the smallest of pebbles moved to the side creating a ripple effect of energy. The feeling continued pulling with noticeable force. The heavy clouds shifted from misty charcoal to a subtle yellow and back again. A flash of warmth. Soft, dewy warmth.
By Shelby Valdez4 years ago in Fiction
Expression
He moved slowly, a god who felt more like a man than a deity. The noise was grating his nerves and he tensed his jaw as it grew louder. Paterdeus closed his eyes. His long dark hair clung to his wide shoulders as he inhaled, almost shielding him as he heard the approach of another.
By Georgie4 years ago in Fiction
The Narlington Chronicles
Pratt & Whitney Stadium stood approximately thirty miles from St. Narlington Neuroscience Hospital, which sat nestled in the small town of Wallingford, Connecticut. It was a world-class institution of healing and knowledge, under the watchful eye of Dr. Alistair Harris MD/Ph.D. As a tenured Chief Medical Officer, he assembled some of the world’s most renowned medical talent on the east coast. He had personally authored several cutting-edge studies in cognitive behavior. He additionally co-authored papers on the uses of psychedelic drugs to treat patients with PTSD. In what some would say voodoo science, these drugs somehow “reset” the brain by altering neurotransmitter levels, aiding in the rehabilitation of patients.
By Tony Messina4 years ago in Fiction
Broken Beast, Part 2
Chapter Two The fortress of the Grey Band was rumored to be impenetrable by even the strongest of forces. Even now, or perhaps more accurately, especially now, as the rain poured down in streams and rivulets, it cut an imposing figure against the otherwise bleak skyline. The dark stone fortress with its wrought iron gates, barred windows, and thick, high walls, loomed threateningly above the rest of the city of Obriesk. The establishment known best for their defense of the city, and of Ambrickeria as a whole, looked much more like a prison than a castle,. Even the bravest souls, and those who remained among the Unbreaking Queen's men, still took pause when passing it. After all, the odd heads mounted to the walls, left rotting and half-eaten by the scavenger birds, did provide a firm enough warning to those who might seek trouble, and a dire enough threat to those who planned upon it.
By Kit Olsen4 years ago in Fiction
The Narlington Chronicles
Pratt & Whitney Stadium, a $4.1 million multi-use sports complex, was a venue a coach envied, and collegiate athletes wished they called home. This massive sports complex was the site of the NCAA Women's Division I Soccer Championship, featuring the favored underdogs and Northeast-10 Conference champions, the University of New Haven Wizards and current reigning champions, and Ivy League conference champs, the Yale Bulldogs. Winners of this contest would claim top billing and the coveted MAC, Hermann Trophy.
By Tony Messina4 years ago in Fiction
No one at all
She had never met him before. The girl had grown up in the village. Ignored and indulged. A mere daughter while her brothers were trained. As long as she was quiet at meals and stayed out of the way, she could do what she wanted.
By Kelsey Marie4 years ago in Fiction