Short Story

I heard a loud sigh, the sound of exasperation, total and complete disgust at my willingness to ignore everyone else's wishes and do whatever I wanted to do. Perhaps if I’d been where I was supposed to be, I never would have lost the kids to begin with, and I never would have found Bryan upstairs in the suite with Ember. Maybe he never would have gone up there, because I would have been by his side. But would we have been able to find the kids on time when Miles eventually took them? We trusted these people, and we shouldn’t have. There were so few people anymore that I could trust.

I turned to see Heath, his smile more strained than what I remember. Although, I barely remember anything these days.His hands grip strongly onto my arm and pull me rather forcefully inside, his breath coming out in gasps.‘You didn’t tell me it was one year. Is that why Clarice is here?’ he said, his voice echoing in the room. I opened my mouth to speak, but he waved me away, his tone growing.‘Is that why she is here? So you two can play detective in finding out…’ his hands suddenly beat down on top of the table, forming a drum roll. His face turned into a spiteful sneer. ’Who murdered Evangeline and Carter Elswood? Because if that’s what you’re doing, stop. It’s been a year, and no one is closer to finding out who murdered them. So quit playing detective’ By now tears were forming in my large blue eyes, falling onto the shag carpet. He ignored them as he spits out his final words, ‘Because you once told me that seeking what is the truth is not seeking what is desirable.’ With a toss of his dark hair, he stomped out of the room, his footsteps shaking the house like a

“When we opened the doors in the kitchen, we were shocked to find a door leading to the basement. Lying right in the middle of the floor, there were submachine guns, handguns and several rifles along with many knives. We also found a machine used for making false ID’s and driver’s license hidden in the basement that’s why Mathew Morgan’s driver’s license looks so real. Since Mr. Hudson lived alone, no one ever checked on him. As a result, when they murdered him, no one missed him. Pretty smart of Matthew Morgan to find someone like Mr. Hudson and replace him,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Don’t take my answer of ‘no’ as a coward’s response, but I’m trying to make it back home to my family. Up until this point, we’ve only been gassed. We’re still in the dark, but nothing is attacking us. I think if we tough it out, we’ll make it out of here alive. But if we go snooping in the dark, there’s no telling what we might find.”

“I want to talk to the people in the house over there and see what they know,” the detective said, going across the lawn. When he rang the doorbell, a medium built woman in her mid-sixties with gray hair opened the door and asked. “May I help you?”

She made me promise that if she didn’t make it, I would go to her mountaintop and savor the view for the both of us. And that was all. She never mentioned it again, resigned to a world of four white walls and a chemical haze.

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

She was starting to worry about if this was the right thing to do or not. She was risking it all and if she failed who knows what would happen to her and her friends. She called Ava, Kira, and Sophia and decided that this was the right thing to do. Nobody was going to hold her back.

the table. She opened the small envelope and read the message, ‘I know this doesn’t make up for what happened, but please accept it. I’m still your same old best friend that you met at 12, I promise.’

But you’re going to fall, not because you can’t start again, but because we all do. Humans aren’t much more than maladjusted bipeds in the end. The problem is what you’re going to want to do when you fall again. You’re going to think about returning to the rat hole because it’s easier believing everyone and everything are out to get you that than happiness really exists. Sometimes the darkness just gets comfortable. Not because it is, mind you, but because it’s familiar. When you get to that point, before you start feeding little pieces of yourself to the rats, write me a letter.”

“My lord does not wish to speak to any of you at the moment. Do you not see that this is a time of privacy?” Zeriya reprimand them as he guards Akira, the look on his face grows more and more menacing as he stared at the reporters and journalists. (-- removed HTML --)

"QUIETE." Rose snapped. She pulled out a sheet of paper to Jaques I peered over to see what it was, it was a wanted sign, with my own face on it. I just stood there, paralyzed in fear. Finally I spoke,

“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.

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..