Short Story

“The Outer-Ring,” he said, laughing at the irony as he braced for impact. “A new step for mankind.”

"William watched Abigail for a moment, noticing her stiff nature. " Abigail, " He said with his tone shaking slightly. William knew something was wrong Abigail was not her usual self.

I remember when it all happened, there was I, a little girl of 6 years old who would always stick with her beautiful and young mother, Keni, but, she would rather you call her Daisy. We were at home, my old, but sweet home of a wonderful beige color with a lot of decoration made by Mami. I would always love to be at home, because it would always smell like her. The long and comfortable sofas were bought by Papi, they owned a special brown color, my Mami 's favorite. That 's where we were in that moment. My Mami was wearing the dress that I gave her as a present with my Papi 's help, it was pink and it had a lot of flowers on it. She looked amazing. In contrary of me, I was wearing my favorite dress too, but, this one was really old that

The sound of dripping water caused Kiara took look up from her desk. It had been raining and drops of pooled water were dripping onto her window. The Princess sat in her private chambers while gazing lazily at a stack of treaties that her father had told her to study. She had a long time before she would become Queen, but her father refused to let her enjoy her spare time. He always wanted her studying up on the latest information from all of the neighboring kingdoms. More specifically the kingdom to the northwest. A kingdom filled to the brim with demonic beings. She had seen them before. Her father liked to entertain traveling nobility. When she snuck out of the castle to wander the market she would sometimes see them as well. The market

A few days after the drop, Marcel drove by to visit the farmhouse—this time during the day and dressed in his Rexist uniform. Inside the farmhouse, he revealed the reason for his visit.

“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 first glimpsed the sun as it rose above the bell of a French horn.

"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.

It was Christmas Eve day in London, England 2015 and Baltimore was in a staring with his cat Shawlings. “Blast!!!” he called out. “You’ve beaten me once again in another staring contest, Shawlings. I don’t know how you do it”. Shawlings starred as Baltimore hopped off of his bed to get his phone and text his all-time and only best friend Sebastian. Baltimore: Hey, Bastian, you wanna come over now?... He noticed that Sebastian hadn’t texted back as fast as usual. He looks over to Shawlings. “He isn’t texting back like he usually does, Shawlings… Oh well I guess I’ll just call him in about five minutes” he said; jumped onto the bed to continue his staring contest with Shawlings.

I reach in my pocket as I clamber out of the dusty wagon, I find is a stick of gum, a euro and two roll-ups. Trouble is, I don’t even own a match to light em. I don’t have much after handing over my savings to the traffickers. I’ve come from France to the UK because everyone tells me life’s good here..

There is nothing amazing about being a wannabe YouTube star, however my neighbor, a tall, greedy, e-begging, neckbeard seemed to believe otherwise. His large YouTube channel was an excellent measuring tool for his insatiable ego. He had made a steady living over the years from his pseudo-intellectual rants covering a wide variety of topics. He also did a fair number of internet challenges so he could get some money from the high number of views they received. Needless to say, he was a greedy person. He could eat his own weight in cake, and was probably about two happy meals away from a mobility scooter. He was a chronic narcissist who also owned a podcast with three other people. You’ve got the man himself, his brother wearing sunglasses

“Don’t apologize. You’re ill. You need help. I want you and the children to come back to the castle with me so you can see our physician.”

Everyone was seated at the table. Across me sat Mr. Boddy. His tie was folded neatly. His hair was slick, and combed back. Beside me was a young woman who looked to be about 30 years old. Her hair was short and curled. I didn't know anyone's name, but then I looked at the table. The place cards were folded with only one crease, the long side facing down. I looked over in front of her plate. In cursive, it read, "Mrs. Peacock".

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, “this is why you’re so alone that you had to run away from home in the first place. You have nothing, so you decided to do drugs and shoplift. Nobody likes you. Everyone left you,” she pointed to me, “and I’m just so sick of you right now. I’m leaving you tonight,” she disappeared within the night and never looked back.

Five days. Would it be an unexpected blessing? Or maybe, a curse? Desol knew only time would tell.