Short Story

Marcus had a bemused look on his face that melted into one of pure incredulity. First she refused to come down, and then , she wandered off without leave? As a naval commander and ship's master, the penalty for any slave who left the person of any officer without leave was to be lashed to the deck for a half day and get 10 strokes of the Cat. And yet, this brazen cocotte with the copper tresses felt free to so disrespect her own Master in his own household?

As the car bumped along the road, I thought about where I was going. Cleveland! Of all places my momma had to live in Cleveland. There is nothing special about Cleveland. I looked out the window and saw the coast of Boston one last time. The brisk air of fall rushed in as I opened the window. I loved this time of year. My momma said she likes it too.

“Moving again?!” I exclaimed. My mom had announced this at the end of the month of February. Throughout my fourteen years of life, I could not keep count with my fingers of how many times we have moved. On the other hand, I understood her decision to move from Birch Bay to Bellingham. Besides, my brother and I were going to school there and all our friends were there, too. Not to mention the drastic change in our family’s way of life, after a couple of months of hauling us from one place to another, on top of my mom working a full-time job, everything was way harder for her especially now that she is a single parent. One late night during one of our many hauls to home, I was suddenly awakened from an emergency maneuver my mom made to

The beeping of a monitor was getting annoying. With the sterile smell and constant humming of technology, Corvus could have really used some music. His body ached from the fight he had won, ached from the damage that was finally catching up to him. His bones had broken numerous times, something he could easily fix. However, now he was just getting his energy back while the lab coat people ran tests on him. They didn't need his consent for anything given the fact that this hospital was not really considered such, but it was the only place he could really go while staying under the radar of the native population here that would be happy to see a bounty hunter like him floating dead in the ocean. Obviously, this was something he did not want,

“I’ve almost breached their valve wall,” Killian’s fingers briefly stilled as she listened to the Eleven’s voice on the other end of the small device in her ear, before continuing their furious movements across the laptop. “I’m tracking her progress through the hospital.” She said in response to whatever had been said on the other end of the transmitter, adding in a clipped tone before Eleven could comment again. “She isn’t in any real danger at the moment, so stop interrupting and let me finish this.” Eleven of course knew that Killian was stretching the truth to suit her needs (in this instance getting her to stop with the inane question), but she also knew that if there was any real imminent danger Killian wouldn’t have started the hack

I twisted my water bottle open and I held it up to my mouth, the room temperature water mixed with the gum in my mouth and gave the effect of cold water. The silent humming of the air conditioners in the background was perfect for focusing on my work as I stepped into the carpeted hallway. I slowly chewed on the juicy and minty piece of gum in my mouth as I inspected everything. The sound scraping of rapid pencils against the lined paper interrupted the silence immediately as my classmates were observing. I slowly strolled down the hallway laying my eyes on every detail I could spot. Light grey clouds, that I saw through the small windows, hovered above the area portending rain. The black, painted, wood above the dull green lockers was

If. If this, if that. If not for that, I'd have had it in the bag. "I'd have won if he didn't topdeck raigeki." Ramram in the grave and a whiptail in hand and you choose to summon drident with your chakanine. If he didn't have raigeki though! Yeah I guess your double drident wins if he didn't have raigeki but he had no board wipes in his grave and you go for it anyway. "If he didn't have honest!" as you sit there with dimensional prison in hand. Yeah, good on ya. If.

It was Saturday morning and I had just woke up. I received an email from the coach that coaches one of the best teams. I could not believe what I had just seen. On the email it wrote “Dear Victoria, I had watched you play in a few games, and I think you would be a good addition to my team. Would you want to come to practice tonight?” I thought to myself, I am not good enough, so maybe I should not go. But as the day went on, I actually thought that I should go just for the experience.

When they entered the ballroom area, the room moved around them like clockwork. Fathers and daughters swirling in synchronization around the center that sat the little orchestra playing a haunting tune. The girl’s dresses flounced out, as their heads were thrown back, eyes closed. The guys of the pair moved to the left, narrowly avoiding some of the spinning couples to come into contact with the most stereotypical male bar room, he had ever seen. Cigar smoke layered over head as fathers and sons took generous sips of whisky and chuckled with their ironically flamboyant hand gestures. The boy seemed to shrink under the atmosphere, and felt a claustrophobic nausea as he made his way closer and closer to the bar. The man working behind it

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

Sam wakes up soaked in sweat, the morning sun boiling through the windows. A crick in his neck and cramped legs, aching from being tucked into the back seat of the Impala. He can’t help but groan as he feels the back of his t-shirt unstick from the smooth leather. There are similar sounds of misery as Dean tries to peel himself off the front seat and cracks open the car door with a squeak. His heavy booted feet hit the ground with a crunch and Sam can hear Dean’s shoulders pop as he stretches. There's a grumble from his brother as Dean kicks away whatever debris his boots landed on.

After the third day of tension, Jess spoke with Austin in their rooms; once more cleaning his guns. “It’s time boy.” “Time for what ol’ man?” “A time to kill or be killed. Austin, I’d appreciate it if you’d take Clara and Lena on their buggy ride earlier than usual today.” Austin argumentatively replied “I ain’t leaven’ you Jess! I’ll make sure the ladies stay out of sight but if one of us dies, Clara and Angel deserve to grieve.” “Angel? You mean Lena?” Jess said as he finally looked away from his guns. “Yes Angel. I’m the only one allowed to call her that so you’d best call her by Lena until she’s okay with it.” “So, you finally figured out you love the girl.” Jess asked. “Yes Jess and I intend to ask her to marry me when

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.

“I’ve lost everything.” I had told myself the day my grandmother passed away. I was halfway through with cutting the grass, just finishing up the side yard when I was called inside. I knew that she was sick. I didn’t know how bad. I was told her chances were minimal but I never listened. I was stubborn.