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Jane's eyes widened in horror. Her fingernails … were they a bit ... longer? Darker? Why here? Why now? A sharp, sudden pressure jabbed at her tongue and cheek. Instinctively she concealed her mouth with both ash-covered hands. She did not need a mirror to know exactly what was happening to her body. But why? She had absolutely no clue what she did to cause it to react this way ... Jane's breath grew rapid and hot. No time. She knew she had to force herself out of it. If she let herself panic, all hope would be lost. Jane squeezed her eyes shut. It was dark; she tried to concentrate. The young woman reached out in her mind, trying over and over again to grasp onto something, anything she could focus on, but the memories continued to slip away …The darkness was not calming, it was blinding! She couldn't see! The pulsating of her chest tore into her concentration. No … Jane would not let this happen. She could not let this happen. She drew a long, deep

Like any Internet user, Agatha quickly learnt to avoid looking at ads twinkling at her on the pages she’s just opened. But this one caught her attention. Do you dream of popularity on the web? Or maybe you think you spend too much time on social network? Try Profile Assistant®! Our Assistant is an innovative solution for everyone who wants to optimize their activity in social media. Based on the technology of a self-learning neural network, the Profile Assistant® will recognize your needs, and select the best content for you, check notifications, likes and comments, help acquire followers and develop the profile according to the strategy chosen by the user. Try it today! Get free 1st month trial! It could be a hoax, but if not... Agatha has noticed for some time that managing profiles takes her more and more time. She quickly looked for feedback on the app. It turned out to be very positive – several celebrities stated that thanks to the Assistant they saved on payments to people

Some more interactions with Mole and Zoe. a little time after the theater. Zoe: Hey Mole? Mole: hm? Zoe: I uh got nothing better to do right now…. You um.. you wanna get a beer or something? Mole o-oh? Well sure. I just need to let Alicia know so she doesn’t worry. Zoe hmph no prob. Can’t let her worry about her lil terryberry Mole blushes heavily. Flustered he says: is that gonna be a new thing? I still haven’t even gotten used to Mole. Zoe: What? You prefer I call you Terrence, terry? Ter?~ Mole contemplates her sudden change. Mole…ah.….nevermind. it sounds weird coming from you… Zoe: Well alright then. Let’s go, Mole. I know a good place Mole. I’ll follow you. Zoe: Right, keep forgetting you have a car with how much I drive you around. Mole: hah..yeah. Meet you there then. Zoe mhm. They drive over to the bar and take a seat. Both picking up a beer. The bar is a little old. But it seems reputable enough. Mole is a little intimidated by the people there, but is trying

Ever since Old Lady Diane lost her family in a car accident she had adopted every stray cat that set foot on her doorstep. Most of them she treated like outdoor cats and just left out a few food and water bowls. But recently, it became difficult for her to buy enough cat food to continue feeding them. At the most recent neighborhood meeting, which Diane couldn't attend due to a cold, everyone decided that it was time to stage an intervention. Amelia and Tristan, some of Diane's next door neighbors, now knocked on her door. Diane answered and smiled. "Hello! How are you all?" "We're very good, Di," Amelia said. "Can we come in? "Of course! Come in, come in." They sat on the living room couch. "What have you visited for? My homemade cookies? I'm almost out." "No, Diane. We're here about the cats," Tristan said. "What do you mean?" "The strays you try to feed so often. It's not sustainable. You should take them to the pet store, where they can be taken care of," Amelia

Here's a story draft I thought I'd share. This has been an idea of mine for a while, so I wanted to see what people thought of it. Some background: There's a hidden town of winged people in a forest. They were rejected prototypes for a genetic modification. Their design couldn't obey orders and required too much maintenance. The experiments escaped and created their own civilization, hidden from humanity. There's still experimentation happening around this concept, so the members of Angelhaven will attempt to free them and bring them back to Angelhaven. Adrian spent the first 12 years of his life in a coma. He was awoken inside his lab, and learned skills such as speaking and walking until he turned 13. He was meant to age more slowly than humans. This design failed, so they discarded him. Adrian's wings are various shades of brown, with tan dots and white tips. He was found wandering the streets of a major city at the age of 13 and a half. He is a bit of a narcissist, as he

“Hey, Angela!” The woman’s voice rang out behind me. “Hey!” I didn’t think she was talking to me until she repeated herself for the third time, close behind me. “Hey!” Finally, I turned around to look at her. She was a little taller than me, with wire rimmed glasses, short gray hair, and a joyous look on her face. I had no idea why she’d want to talk to me. “Angela! Angela, it’s been so long, and I was just thinking about you the other day and what a coincidence to run into you now! I’m just so happy to see you! How are you?” “I’m well, but I don’t-” I started to explain, but she cut me off. “Oh I’m so glad you’re doing okay. The last I saw you, things were so hard, what with that car accident and David and everything.” I almost instinctually drew my face into a sympathetically pained look but I didn’t. After all, I had no idea who or what she was talking about. I opened my mouth again to say that I was not, in fact Angela, but she moved in closer, laying a hand on my arm. “I

Captain Alastair Woodward, Donnel, Winston, and the rest of the pirate crew were sailing on the sea during a terrible windstorm. There was a great fear that the strong winds and unforgiving waves would eventually cause the ship to go under and take the crew down with her. However, the captain was certain nothing bad would happen to his ship. He had faith in its strength against the ghastly weather. The crew was busy making sure the sails were lowered so that they wouldn’t get caught in the heavy winds, as well as making sure all their goods were safely stored below deck or tightly tied up as best as they could get them. They had already lost a few provisions overboard from when the ship rocked dangerously over the waves. Captain Woodward’s crew couldn’t afford to lose much else. Suddenly, one of the ropes connected to the foremast yard snapped. Donnel looked up to see the yard starting to come loose in the wind. He realized that it might fall and injure

Reginald Birchwood stepped out of an office building and placed his top hat upon his head. He had just recently returned from Berlin where he was gathering information on the German Empire for Her Majesty, Queen Victoria. However, as far as anyone knew outside of the secret services, Reginald was a tax accountant. He would make sure to introduce himself as such. Due to his dangerous work in espionage, Reginald had little time to start a proper romantic relationship, though some of his companions in the secret service warned him it might become a liability in his line of work. Yet, there was still one woman that Reginald wanted to court and hoped that she would return his affections. Reginald left the accounting firm and casually strolled along a London sidewalk. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted someone and turned his head to peer into the window of a bakery. Sure enough, inside was the woman of his affections, Miss Evelyn Greenstone, whose father

To anyone's eye, it would look like any other summer day. The morning air was still nice and cool as customers sat out on the patio of the Red Horse café. People eat and conversed all while the waitstaff busied themselves filling orders. It was just an ordinary day with nothing of interest happening; no unruly or obnoxious customers, no staff shortages or infighting, no overwhelming crowds or broken registers. It was the picturesque day at the local café. Seated at a small table for two out on the patio was a gloomy man with dark hair and a tired expression. Across from the man sat a young blonde haired girl who at a glance may be the man's daughter. The man was far more well-dressed considering the occasion, but the girl wore more casual clothes. The dark-haired man sipped on his coffee as the girl kicked her legs and used her tongue to play with a loose tooth. No one paid them any mind or attention as they waited for their food to come. Only their waitress glanced over every now and

David Adamson had never seen a real magic ritual before. It was surely to be a spectacular sight to behold. An acquaintance from school who was a spellcaster-in-training had invited him to come and see what type of rituals her people performed. Some of the others weren’t so keen on David’s presence, saying a non-magic human should be forbidden from attending such things. David did not feel totally welcome. However, it turned out that one of the main ritual leaders had gotten deep into the chartreuse and so was unable to attend the ritual. With the ritual order shuffled, that left a spot open. The acquaintance got inventive and decided to invite David to participate rather than just watch. After all, in times past human had participated in these rituals. It seemed some spellcasters had forgotten that information. David was given a candle to hold while the ritual leader read from an old book with decayed pages and a painted cover. The magic circle

Shadows jumped and danced in the fitful light of the streets oil lamps. The lamp-lighter had been less than diligent at his job, leaving almost a third of the street lamps unlit. Passers-by attracted featureless doppelgangers that, in turn, loomed larger than life and dwindled to nothing. In the deep recesses of a storefront, a figure lurked. It went largely unnoticed by the few late-night wanderers. The cloak, a shifting thing of shadows, itself, billowed in the gusts of wind that rattled shutters along the street, but the figure was unmoving. A few of the street lamps sputtered in the wind, their oil reserves running low and no match for the angry gusts. At a snail's pace, the street emptied. The last few stragglers drunkenly sang bawdy tunes as they held each other upright. The figure in the shadows remained unnoticed. A whipping, swirling cyclone of wind swept through the streets. Doors banged wildly, shutters rattled like an army of sabers, and age-weakened wooden houses

Janet looked down from her position on the ladder attached to the telescope. “Hey, Matthew, has this star been classified yet?” Matthew entered the room carrying a stack of books. “What are the coordinates?” “Umm, let me just, hand me a piece of paper will you?” Matthew tore a blank sheet out of a notebook on the table. “How is my favorite computer doing, anyway?” “Quite enjoying being able to actually look through the telescope,” she said, scribbling numbers to keep track of her mental math. “Reasons to be an astronomer’s sister.” “Because then you can get a job as one of Pickering’s computers and look through the telescope.” “Mhm!” Matthew opened up a catalog. “Now, what were the coordinates?” Janet circled a pair of numbers and handed the paper to him. “Is it in there?” He flipped through the catalog, paused on a page, then began running his finger down the margin. “Hm. I don’t think it has.” “Exciting, let’s make a plate and classify it then.” “I’ll set it up and

I parted with the other damned soul with a friendly wave, waited for him to turn around, and heaved a sigh of relief. Wow did he have a few screws loose. Just my luck that I turn up in Hell, and the first guy I meet is some lunatic. Infuriatingly, it turned out the only correct religion had been some long-forgotten sect the whole time, with a grand total of zero active worshippers in the last few thousand years. In retrospect, I probably should’ve seen it coming, but it seemed a rather silly religion to me. From what its deity had to say about goat milk alone, people’s odds of avoiding hell seemed about like winning the lottery while getting struck by lightning, and later learning that the same bolt caught the last member of a previously thought extinct species of bird on its way to you. Slim to none, in plainer terms. Still, that didn't mean their strange god had any reservations about tossing each and every human ever born down here. Through sheer luck, the Christians seemed

In the deepest reaches of uncharted space, a small transport craft dropped out of FTL on the outer edge of a solar system even more off the beaten path. The kind of place explorers made their names. In the viewport was a large ice giant planet with a ring system. “You sure this guy could be trusted?” Sam asked her business partner and girlfriend Aria. The couple were in the salvage business together, finding old hulks floating in the unclaimed void and selling them for scrap or to someone desperate enough to fly some old death trap held together by faith and duct tape down the space lanes. “I laid on my charms and he was eating out of my hands.” The golden-haired beauty sitting next to her answered. “Better save those charms for me…” Sam said with a laugh as they negotiated the rocks and ice. The tip was for quite possibly the biggest hit they’d ever gotten. A large starship left hiding among the planet they were now in orbit of. According to the story that Aria explained to Sam, the

The quiet of the night was soothing and peaceful; an owl hooted from the darkness of the forests and rivers trickled as the water streamed through forest floors, rolling over rocks and stones before frothing at the forks leading to the oceans churning in the darkness. But that blissful silence where one could hear a mouse shuffling through dry leaves for forgotten berries was broken by blood-curdling screams that would make any Saber salivate over. "A feast fit for a God over here," one raider shouted over the sounds of stone axes slicing through flesh and the shouting and screaming of the tribe residents. They had kicked down a door revealing not only a well-stocked food storage but also some hiding members; three men and four women, "and look, some rats." The tribe being raided was a moderately sized one; not too small to be considered worthless yet not too big to be considered a threat. Many of the tribe members here were farmers and only versed in fighting musk ox away

In the heart of an ancient forest, where moonlight danced through the leaves and magic hummed in the air, two souls on divergent paths found themselves unexpectedly entwined. Seraphina, a vampire girl with moonlit skin and ebony hair, wandered through the forest glade. Her existence was solitary, the night her only companion, as she navigated her eternal life in the shadows. Her existence was peaceful, but sometimes, a touch of loneliness crept in. The necessity of a life apart from the living was an inescapable part of her condition. Amidst the tranquil darkness, a figure stumbled into the glade, his armor battered and his eyes weary. Nathaniel, a lost mercenary with a heart of gold, had become disoriented in his quest for a rumored treasure. His heart was noble, but his sense of direction left much to be desired. Seraphina's glowing eyes widened as she beheld the disheveled stranger. His rugged appearance and determination sparked something within her, a curiosity she had not

[EP1/5] This is a school-fighting story featuring a muscular high-school girl against a group of bullies. There is NO explicit sex scene with underage characters. Enjoy! Evening rush hour. The express bus 10XX heading out of Seoul is packed with people. Everyone seated is busy looking at their phone screens, passing the time. The bus is stuck in a traffic jam near Apgujeong, so the frustration of starting and stopping repeats. A man sitting by the left window is no exception. Dressed in typical office attire for the evening commute, he's browsing this page and that on his smartphone, flipping through a few webcomics. Then, he opens SetFlix app and starts scanning this month's new releases. "Oh, this one's out?" Katen. A movie that came out about 15 years ago. It's an action film where a former special forces agent fights gangsters to rescue kidnapped families. Looking at the movie poster, memories of that old time come flooding back. And those memories will

My pencil scratched against the screen, the only sound in my small world. I sat alone at my desk; I had temporarily deactivated its holographic functions. My world was illuminated by harsh white light, although I could dim them, I could not change their tone. My room was spacious. Plenty of room for me, with a bed, bathroom facilities, and, most importantly, my desk. It was my link to any entertainment; full of movies, simulations, games, and videos. But my favorite was the art. When the lights dimmed, I would watch the holograms slowly float around me, their blue flicker casting shadows across the white walls. Worlds I didn't know existed, characters I’d never met, ideas that were new to me, gliding across my view, until they faded into the pixelated dissolution of the hologram’s edge. The rows of pictures would slide around me in a cylinder, creating the illusion that I floated in a vortex of colors and shapes and style. I could observe anything in this world, but hadn't

I hear something crash down on the other side of the warehouse, the noise bouncing off the massive walls. I've been on the night shift ever since I took this job a few months ago, but I've never had an actual break-in. My heart races as I approach the source. I flinch as I hear what sounds like glass shattering. My hand hovers shakily over my firearm. I don't want to be careless, but the slow approach is killing me. This is my job, though. Row after row of shelves stacked with boxes, all full of unknown contents. Not that I care about what people are ordering. I hear heavy breathing now; the intruder is just around the next corner. I'm tall, I'll try to get 'em myself. The weapon's always an absolute last resort. I doubt they're in here with good intentions, though. I steel myself and step out from around the shelf, ready for a scuffle. I stop, and take a step back. It's no human. In front of me is some... creature, panting, kneeling away from me. A few boxes lay scattered on the

Cold Embrace Tiny crystals, gently dancing in the night Glistening bright, reflecting the light Being so colourful, yet so white Creating intertwining, fluctuating patterns Covering the land in a soft white blanket Entrancing me Comforting me Numbing me All is frozen in time, like creatures in hibernation. All my worries are temporarily cast aside as I venture through the wintery grounds. My pain is numbed to the point of melancholy. The icy wind bites my face. The ground is soft and every step produces a crunchy sound. As I wander, I reflect on what has passed. My lover has long gone No one and nothing can keep me warm Deep in the woods, a faint warm glow emanates through the trees. I have no choice but to follow it. As I get closer, I see a solemn figure, warming himself up by a measly fire. I approach the figure, and as I get closer, I’m struck by a sense of familiarity. “You’ve finally arrived” the figure proclaims. “Have a seat” I sit down on an old tree stump beside the

"Damned writers block..." Sophia moaned to herself. Her finger tapping on the desk as she stared at the blank screen in front of her. The tick tock of the wall clock counting down the time. She'd been staring at her screen for what felt like eternity. Every time she thought she'd gotten an idea, it faded away just as quickly... "Come on...think. think. think..." Muttering to herself. Tapping her forehead as she attempted to force an idea out. All the while, something else was "bubbling up". An internal pressure starting to build in her midsection. Slowly pushing out as she sat there, hunched over the desk, her hands against her head... To Be Continued(Soon!)

To Jurian Cornelisen esq., Thank you for your swift response. In your last missive, you mentioned the fortuitous location of your office. It is true that location is incredibly important for any business. If I am not mistaken, you were able to afford this building mostly with your earnings defending the alleged Cult of Ghalaunach. It can be surmised that you owe your success to this case. And though it was your clients that paid you, their coin originated from their devilish patron. Do you not consider it amoral to build your career on payments supplied through fiendish means? Mind you, this is not intended as an indictment of your conduct. In your profession, questions of morality are secondary to questions of law. But we try to unite those concepts, putting ethical laws to paper. In our communications, you mostly speak in defence of the practice of Warlockry, and we were curious how you could morally justify this. In honoured service, Annemiek Smalbrugge To the esteemed

Dark Alley Business “Alright, that’s the last of them,” Hazel said. She handed the merchant a rolled-up credit slip and bid him farewell. Then she adjusted her skirts and snapped at her employees, “You know what to do, girls. Fetch me when these are sorted and logged.” The tall woman strode back into her shop as the merchant’s carriage bumped its way up the cobblestone street. Gerun frowned at the delivery, four large stacks of books bound with twine, each almost as tall as her little sister. Luckily Hazel had a small wooden cart to help with moving heavy loads. Sako trotted back into the shop to fetch it while the older girl tested the weight of the stacks. The older girl couldn’t help but scan the titles of the books. Unlike most orphans on the street, Gerun and Sako Brynn could read perfectly well. Their good fortune of having a mother who passed on the basics of her education before the plague took her. Gerun frowned. No books on the magic arts—not a surprise, but still

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