Fantasy
The Matador.
“We could barely get an answer from the guy, and we had to calm him down before we even got a response. We only got one word out of him,” a Police Officer near the left chair stated in the office. The Police Commissioner had the palms of his dark hands on his face, as he released a sigh. “What do we know about the incident thus far, and what evidence do we have of this man?” the Police Commissioner asked with a deep voice. “Sir, we know that the thugs were well equipped and well organized, and they were working for some kind of crime cartel. They had this planned from the get go, and they had disabled the alarm system long before the robbery ever took place. As to how, we’re still investigating as we speak. They knew the in and outs of the bank area and had their movements extremely organized, which indicates that they either had access to the schematics or to someone with access to the schematics of the bank, and had knowledge of potential weaknesses within the bank's security system. Based on the equipment they were using, they were going after the main vault and could have very well broken in with ease. We’re still overlooking phone records to see if there are any irregular patterns within their phone,” the Police Officer informed. The sound of a pen dropping was heard as the Police Commissioner placed his right hand on his right cheek. “What did the man say?” The Police Commissioner asked.
By Jordan Zuniga4 years ago in Fiction
You Can’t Win Them All
Lord Admiral Tobias SandFang watched as the last of the tattered cruisers crawled ever closer to the jump ring. He always let a few stragglers limp back to Federation High Command, a consolation price for putting up a good fight. However, the latest round of attacks could barely even be considered a fight. Sloppy attack patterns, weak hull plating, and outdated fighters were welcoming signs from an opponent. Often associated with bands of marauders and rag-tag bounty hunting parties in way over their head but when Federation ships start floundering around is sub-space that can only mean one thing. It was him.
By A.C Hofstetter4 years ago in Fiction
Self Sacrifice
This Challenge is inspired by the modernist classic, The Sun Also Rises. So, for this Challenge, we’re asking you to include a bull at any point in your story. Whether your bull makes an appearance in the streets of Madrid amidst 1920s matadors, or is just a pewter statue on the mantle in an old library, the remaining details are totally up to you. It can be real or fake, appear in art or in a dream — as long as it makes an appearance in your story, anything goes.
By Aria Beardsley4 years ago in Fiction
The bunny and the bull
The sun was slowly rising across the fields, casting long shadows along the grass. It was a lovely morning, filled with birdsong and the fresh smell of dew. The flowers in full bloom seemed to glow in its light, their petals gently swaying back and forth with the wind. It was peaceful, tranquil. Everything about it was beautiful.
By Anastasia S4 years ago in Fiction
Bull's Eye
I hold up a marble to the candle on my desk. I found it a while ago, before I was placed under what is essentially house arrest. The flame flickers and dances in the glass, as if it has been captured in the little orb. In the dark, it is illuminated like a miniature sun, a yellow aura. The other marble, its twin, is in my pocket. This is what I have been reduced to, playing with beads in the near-blackness. No phone, no TV, no books, no games. The lack of stimuli is agonizing, even more so than the actual pain.
By Nines Hearst 4 years ago in Fiction
Blood of the bull
CRASH. Projectiles from the Roman catapult attack smash into the large walls of the mighty Sarmizegetusa Citadel of Dacia, a stronghold of concrete and brick with archers lined atop the walls, firing arrows into the sea of Roman soldiers. A siege on its third day, the Roman attackers frantically try to break and scale the castle walls as the Dacian army desperately fight to defend their city. A red sky caused by the afternoon sun contemplated with the glow of fires raging from inside the walled city, generates a hellish landscape. With vultures circling above, occasionally swooping down to feast on the decaying bodies.
By Ash Gallop4 years ago in Fiction
Raging Bull****
He was trying to be a country boy, even though he did not know a thing about the country. Oh, but he did know about being a little boy though. He was a grown man, not wanting to take any responsibility for himself. For all the wrong things that he had done. Not wanting to take responsibility for his child. Not wanting to be a parent. So, he ran away. He ran to Wyoming, where he could be that country boy he always wanted to be. You know the kind with the big black country hat, the brown country boots. He wanted to go line dancing every night.
By Amanda J Mollett4 years ago in Fiction
Halloween Rodeo
Warm days had fled and the crisp autumn temperatures brought colored leaves and chilly mornings. Carved pumpkins, scary decorations, and fall colors were put out adding a splash of life and fun to the brown yards around town. Teri and Rodrigo were excited for the upcoming Halloween festivities and had spent hours working on their costumes. Well, mostly Teri’s costume as it required the most work to bring together. Every weekend and some weekdays for the last month had been spent working hard on their costumes. They finished everything up the day before Halloween and were ecstatic about going to school to show off their hard work. Teri had turned her wheelchair into a raging rodeo bull complete with some stuffed pants and cowboy boots down each side to make it look like she was riding the bull. Rodrigo had dressed as a rodeo clown so they could be a matching pair. Halloween day they rode together to school, both chatting excitedly about their outfits and all the fun-filled activities their teacher and the school had planned for the day.
By Viltinga Rasytoja4 years ago in Fiction
Whisper's Folly
Whisper was so close. The undergrowth, dense with years of vines and dirt was slowly giving way to her relentless determination. She knew that beneath this unremarkable place would be a chamber and inside, her prize. For the first time in as long as Whisper could remember, she let herself reflect on the difficult, unpleasant road that had led her to this moment. Her mind drifted as she worked her way towards her salvation.
By David Collings4 years ago in Fiction
