Piscar Alternate Ending

"I wasn't blaming my teammates." I retorted, "We were out of rotation and I was trying to make sure my friend was ok playing setter." Her eyebrows shrunk and her jaw clenched

"I don't bite,Princess" Aomine smirked at the man as he was clearly uncomfortable with the situation

I unlock the metal gate and climb onto the front patio. Before me stands a two-story house with newly-refurbished windows and a fresh coat of white paint. I admire the house’s beauty as I stroll past it. I walk through a crowded path of mohintli, white laelia, tithonia, and dahlias that seem to guide me to the real reason I am at this address. After moving the branches of some avocado trees out of the way, I finally find the treasure I am seeking: a small rose-colored house with just two windows and two rooms. With the key my father gave me, I open the doors to enter the rooms. The light switch does not work, so only shadows are present in the room. Giant cracks graze the walls like the markings of a lion. On the ceiling, an intricate flower design shines proudly with the rest of the room, slowly losing its will to decay. Only broken furniture stands in the corners of the room, ashamed to be present in front of a girl from the North. After taking a deep breath to calm my emotions, I lock the door, look to the sky, and walk back to the house I am staying at with my

After two long hours of traveling with nothing to look at but the passing trees, we finally arrived at the farm. As we piled out of the car, I looked at the dirt road we came in on and turned to the house. It was one story and had a red tin roof, surrounded by a large grassy field and then woods beyond that. Twirling around, I walked into the house and plopped onto the closes bed. As everyone else unpacked, I locked myself in the room like a petulant child.

“Wow,” the demon responded. “I know I’m a demon, but I’m pretty sure that’s downright evil.”

The smell of death and inevitable change, still filled the streets of Paris just like it did all those years ago when the politically fuelled Armand St. Just was fighting for the Republicans cause. Now he was in Paris with the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel saving those that he once condemned. Armand glanced at the envelope he was to deliver to one of his incomparable members, the red wax seal reminded him of when he was first handed an invitation to join the Scarlet Pimpernel, the embossed flowers glistened with pride, it signified a chance to fight for what is honourable. This was the first time he encountered Percy Blakeney the leader of the Scarlet Pimpernel, a man of many talents and faces. He vividly remembered, like dogs, hundreds of Republicans barked and snarled at Madame de la Guillotine, encouraging her to end the lives of those they despised. At the front of pack, Armand remembered standing with many of the alphas, watching them hungry for the blood of those beheaded.

“Yeah, yeah Thursday whatever. We have to go Star.” Marco grabbed Star’s shoulders and pushed her to continue walking.

The roof looked battered and dilapidated. The roof was pointy, like the point on a witch’s hat. The roof sloped at odd angles. So much so that you would look at it and wonder, what would happen if you skied off the roof in the winter? The house had droopy, wooden shutters on the windows that were hung crookedly on purpose. The house was a yellow beige color with odd leadlight

“You sound like you were expecting to have me killed,” Chandler the Fair muttered in a sarcastic tone.

Realizing that her father was struggling with other inner battles other than the one she had presented to him, Sarah slowly backed away from the barn into the side yard next to the kitchen. As she did a hand threw itself over her mouth. “Shhhh,” a voice laughed, “and come on.”

When the moon rose over a smooth, like a mirror, pond, and the stars lighted up the black sky, Solomon and Sima were hiding behind a bush. Old otter’s house located under the snag at the water's edge and was well seen from the refuge.

“I want to find out what’s up there.” As she drove to the tallest peak surrounding the town, she looked at the white fluffy clouds covering portions of the mountaintop before noticing the two-story house in the field and stopped. Looking at the tiles missing, the loose boards hanging from the roof, and the weeping willows with their long limbs wrapped around the house and the vines covering portions of the house gave it a true, ghost story façade.

The sun ducked below the horizon and out came the moon, draping the lands in a melancholy glow. A comfortable silence cradled my ears, enhancing the scene before me. The swashed blue sky with mountains stretching for the stars, the tiny blossoms painting the vast field, and the monsters chasing an innocent. Wait, there's something off here!

“There are a lot of superstitious people in the states as well,” Sam said slowly. It was a weak excuse and Sam’s distrust of the female hunter increased. She knew something that she wasn’t telling

It took very long, but by sunset, she recognized her farm and her fields. But it had been destroyed. The fields looked as if they had erupted, and her animals were missing. But her house was the saddest . . . it was gone. All her belongings were scattered everywhere.