A Short Story : A Story?

“What?” He looked back at the rest of the group, cocking his head to the side. “Is there something-” That’s when he heard a noise behind him, and a grip on his neck. He immediately began to kick, desperately struggling to be freed from what was holding him.

Melisende's injured hand lay limp in the bonds as her other worked feverishly trying to free herself from the makeshift bonds keeping her ankles and wrists held together. Her fingers curled beneath the string in an effort to get her palm curled enough to free her hand however just as she managed to get one finger lodged through, she heard the hard clumps of his boots as they approached her bound form before she felt his roughened hands moving around her svelte body before lifting her up over his shoulder and flopping her down on her stomach, her wrists and ankles still painfully held together behind her. Melisende inhaled sharply in pain as her stomach was pressed painfully against his shoulder.

“Give me your flashlight,” Taehyung handed her the flashlight, “there's a window in here..” Bingo, “push that table over here, on your right when you jump down there is a dumpster get in it,” she muttered, “you're crazy I ain't jumping into that shit.” Yoongi snapped, “then stay here and die I don't give a fuck.”

The short, muscular man sneered above her, sweat pouring down his forehead. Using his left arm, the soldier had been pinning her arms onto her back, his grip on Tokyo's neck tightened and she gasped, her eyes widening. It was an achievement in itself that she had made it at least half a k away from the prisoners camp. Tokyo was choking on the reddish brown dirt, her legs covered in deep cuts and bruises. He began kicking her brutishly in the ribs again, and soon she was coughing out blood. She broke free from his grip and grabbed his left arm that had been choking her and began to bite and claw at it. He howled but before he could do anything, Tokyo staggered up and stabbed weakly at his face. A jab in the soldier's right eye was enough for

“Luffy, how the hell do we get out of this situation!”, said Nami. She shook her hands as if it could get her out of the shackles, however her effort was in vain. She looked at her Captain for an answer, but Luffy was as silent as a statue. His face had a grim expression. He felt like a failure as a captain, he let his crew get captured. Now the Straw Hat crew were imprisoned in a basement of a Celestial Dragon. “Dammit!’’, shouted Sanji angrily kicking a nearby empty crate. The sudden startled the other prisoners, but they quickly settled down.

One of the guards shut the door and walked away from the green pod and into the control room. Sam stared him deep in the eye and said, "Look at me when you kill me, it would be rude not to." The killer let a deranged smile, but it faded when he saw a pale man with a blank face and a black suit staring down at him. Then the gas filled the chamber, only he didn't feel like he was dying, but in grievous pain. His head felt like it was going to burst, his hands were sore and his back felt like it was being broken. When the gas stopped, he broke the bounds on the chair and thought, "I was never that strong!"  When he walked out he realized his hands had claws, "What the heck?"  Sam looked into the glass of the chamber and saw his teeth looked more like railroad spikes. His eyes were black, except for glowing yellow circles. Then he heard a voice, "You are lucky to be alive, not many survived the transformation..." He turned to see the man with the blank face, Sam said in a colder voice, "What did you do to me!?" The being replied, "I made you better...Sam Koren." He said nervously, "How do you know me, who are you!?" The entity seemed to teleport down to him, "I will answer the first one later, but you shall call me master." The killer said, "Okay, but what's in it for me, master?" The being replied, "You will kill as you please..." He thought about it for a moment, how could he trust this man, but something within told him to take the offer. Sam smiled and pulled up his mask, "I'm in, master." And thus began a legend, so if you hear a scratching on wood or snarling in the night, lock the door and keep a weapon close by, because you might have an encounter with the Death Row

He clicked his tongue, pulling his head back. The leader wasn't used to physical touching -- in their case, /almost/ touching. A mental argument was starting to form within him. Was he to clean the guy up, risk him escaping? Or leave the guy to bleed out. Each didn't sound ideal. He needed more information first before doing anything, he can't seem weak just because he was his soulmate. Yoongi could tell by his way of speaking that he must have been in some kind of organization. A smooth talker, he concluded him to be. Great. He knew this kid would be stubborn just by starring at him.

The girl was stunned when Hajime came back through her abundant dirty blond hair her red eyes stared at Hajime. Hajime got irritated with her lack of response. “Hey. Are you listening? If you are not going to talk, I’m leaving.” As he said that he turned heel. Surprised, she gathered herself and begun telling the reason for her sealing.

Those words replayed over and over again in Jim´s mind, but then when he looked at the photo of Della, he knew what he had to do. The pawn shop would be closed by the time Jim got off work, so he had to convince his boss that he was sick so he could leave. Ironically once he got outside his thin jacket didn't protect him enough from the cold, so he began to develop a cough and runny nose.

Daehyun paced restlessly in the small cell, unable to relax, but wishing he had a distraction to avoid dwelling on earlier events. He focused instead on the dull throb in his wrists, the results of hours of chafing from tight handcuffs, and his arms were littered with bruises from the rough handling of the SWAT team. His fingers gently massaged the wounds, causing a slight sting. The pain wasn’t a bother to him, but it was a sore reminder that everything that had happened was real. Youngjae had betrayed him.

“Ouch!” I heard Drizella whine from the back of the carriage. She was plucking her eyebrows as our transportation hit a bump in the road. We were on our way to our new step-father’s house. Drizella is not the biggest fan of him, but Mother says he’s loaded, so personally I see no problem with him. Our carriage slowed, and we pulled up to a dark, wooden house. It wasn’t a poor house by any means, but it was a bit shabby. This was entirely disappointing. “Mother!” I screamed. “I thought you said this man was rich!”.

“Daddy, daddy, throw me in again!” I called to my dad as I doggy-paddled towards him in the water.

It was a nice summer day, my 5-year-old son Sam was playing outside in the backyard of our suburban home. Sam has always been a quiet boy, he plays by himself mostly, he never had many friends, but he has always had a wild imagination. I was in the kitchen feeding our dog Dakota, when I heard what sounded like Sam talking to someone in the backyard. I’m not sure who it was he could be talking to, could he have finally made a friend? Being a single mom it’s hard for me to always keep an eye on my son, so I decided to go outside and check on him. When I went into the backyard I was a bit confused, because Sam was the only person back there. Was he talking to himself? I could have sworn I heard another voice. “Sam! It’s time to come inside.” I called out to him. He came inside and sat down at the kitchen table, it was about lunchtime so I decided to make him a sandwich. “Sam. Who were you talking to out there?” I asked. Sam looked up for a moment, “I was playing with my new friend,” he said smiling. I poured him some milk and continued to pry, as any good mother would. “Does your friend have a name? Why didn’t you ask him to have lunch with us?” I asked. Sam stared at me for a moment before replying, “His name is Funny Man.” I was a bit taken back by what he had said. “Oh? That’s a strange name. What does your friend look like?” I asked a bit confused. “He’s a clown. He has long hair and a big swirly cone nose. He’s got long arms, with stripy socks, and he always smiles.” I

“Hyung? Are you okay?” Another voice, Jimin’s, asked from the other side of the door. “We have to go on in twenty minutes.” The younger reminded, inadvertently causing Yoongi’s anxiety to soar. They had to go on stage in twenty minutes. Taehyung was already ill and unable to perform, now Yoongi would have to sit out too? The remaining five members would have to call off the concert – that

This is the story of a girl and her siblings trying to help her family that they never knew about before to find a missing parent, that they thought was on a business trip.