Short Story

"You were a cute kid," I say aloud to him, smirking at his baffled expression. He was staring down at me with confusion, probably wondering what was happening and what the hell I was doing. I honestly don't even know what I'm doing myself.

You concluded that you were asleep. Everything around you was pitch black and you were in a trace-like state.

(Y/N) let out a frustrated growl and absent-mindedly stared at her screen full of code. She grabbed Kwehvin Lockhart, her rubber chocochick, from her desk and tossed it between her hands.

Over the course of his years upon this earth, Draco Malfoy had seen many shocking things, mostly thanks to his psychotic - and mercifully deceased - Aunt Bellatrix and her sadistic ophidian Dark Lord. Yet despite all of the horror he'd witnessed during the last war, no act of violence, no streak of depravity, no one person had ever, ever come close to shocking him nearly as much as Hermione Granger just had.

Laughter of young men floated through the air like chimes on a breezy day as they sparred amongst each other near the barracks of Highgarden. As young Lords of the Reach, they all had dreams of finding glory for themselves as knights. Yet only one of them had been anointed, the future Lord of Highgarden, Mace Tyrell, whom many believed his Lord father had bought the title rather than earned it by his own merit. Having just turned seven-and-ten not three moons prior, one could see glimpses of the man Mace would become. Tall with broad shoulders, his scalp was covered with thick, curly brown tendrils of sweaty hair that dangled loosely over his brow covering hazel eyes as his bulky body heaved for breath from the exertion. His strong jaw is

Billy Weaver was walking down the street after getting off the train when something in a window front caught his eye. If was as if he was a rat that smelled cheese and trying to sniff it out. The sign read, “Breakfest n’ Bed” It felt as if he’d been staring at the sign for hours. He walked up to the door and knocked on the door. Not after two seconds of knocking on the door it opened. There stood a woman, old, small, and looked like a normal grandmother.

“Mom?” Avalon asked. Seeing her mom and another man kiss was heartbreaking, she’d always believed that her mom would stick by her father’s side no matter what.

There was a small whimper. Harry paused and looked towards the bathroom cursing under his breath. It was Louis he could see the boy's fluffy brown hair through the crack in the door.

“We don’t have enough evidence yet to hold Gary, but there are still many unanswered questions. I want to check some other details before we release him. We’ll see you later. When you get your answers, would you mind sending me a copy?” Detective Ward Asked.

“Shuttle leaving the surface in one hour,” the intercom said. It seemed as if the whole world was boarding the shuttles, in fact, that was probably true. The port crowded with thousands of people boarding a few spaceships. Most came in pairs of two, almost like Noah’s Ark. Some folks came with a bit more of a package, taking their kids, their moms, and almost everyone they knew. Children bounced, friends were getting acquainted as they were excited about the adventure that awaited. Yet there were the few who hung their heads alone. Their lives filled with loss that what the world had taken from them. Below their gas masks were faces wrinkled with sorrow.

The low murmuring in our head rises to a shout when we step through the doors of the institution. It's here to help, it's here to help it's here to help it's here to- The voices in our head were suddenly shouting over each other, desperate to have their opinions heard. Were gonna die! Were gonna- Help me! Help m-

I've come to know these words well, as it's my favorite fight song. Ironwood has asked for me to do his dirty work. I guess his “specialists” aren't special enough. I'm about decline, of course, when Ironwood starts filling me in. Atlas was under threat of a Yeti Grim, as tall as a mountain, and everyone they sent in failed to take it down, so naturally, it was my turn. That’s my job. I’m a consulting specialist. As the only one with the title, it's sure is a pain for them if I turn down a job. I’m a wild card. A freelance that travels the world looking for the best fights and most interesting adventures. One thing I try to never get mixed up in is the world's troubles. I don't care about “making peace” or “stopping evil”. I can leave that

“Just go to room 341 Billy, and get a good night’s rest,” said Melda. “Can I have the key ma’am?” Billy got the key and walked over to the elevator, clicked the button and before he could move any muscle in his body Melda shouted “Billy, don’t go into any other rooms. Stay in your own room darling.” “Okay Miss. Thank you,” said Billy. The doors finally open to the elevator and Billy just slowly walkedin and started to wonder if this was a good idea. With a scratch in his voice Billy says “I’m starting to regret this.” “Why can't I go anywhere else? Am I going to die?” All these thoughts were running through Billy’s mind right now while his heart is racing faster and faster as he gets closer to the 3rd floor. Billy gets startled by a

“How many times do I have to tell you to let go of me?!” She screams sharply, tugging and pulling violently against the secured fist gripped around her delicate wrists that were leaving ugly, purple bruises and cuts on her colorless skin.

"He's up late again," Frederica murmured to herself after seeing lights in the room ahead. She quietly opened the door to the study of the highest ranking officer in the Iserlohn Republic, Yang Wenli. A stray beret lay slightly crumpled on the sofa and empty paper cups cluttered the coffee table in front of it. There was a glow coming from the desk as the study's occupant watched yet another history documentary. The man himself looked slightly disheveled like the rest of the room, a far cry from the hero of democracy he was hailed to be. In other words, things weren't that much different from usual.