《100 Short Scary Stories》5. Fingers
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***
My daughter woke me around 11:50 last night. My wife and I had picked her up from her friend Sally's birthday party, brought her home, and put her to bed. My wife went into the bedroom to read while I fell asleep watching the Braves game. I awoke to her calling out for me. "Daddy," she whispered, tugging my shirt sleeve. "Guess how old I'm going to be next month."
"I don't know, beauty," I said as I slipped on my glasses. "How old?"
She smiled and held up four fingers not belonging to her. It is 7:30 now. My wife and I have been up with her for almost 8 hours. She still refuses to tell us where she got them.
***
Do you like kids? Let me know in the comments!
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The world is said to be formed out of duality of man. Good and evil, right and wrong, light and dark. And with duality, comes conflict. A meaningless clash of ideals results in pointless wars. Azlan is wanderer who doesn't falls in either category. Tired and done with the redundant world, he lives his secluded life, hunting monstrosites for coin in the crumbling province of Mountaliya, situated in the land of Forsa. The premise follows Azlan as he explores the province, experiencing the culture and its people as they try to stand unshaken amidst a cold and unforgiving world. The story is a dark fantasy that is a balance of action and world building but most importantly, it follows the people going about their daily lives. The world has entered a state of stasis, there are no high stakes, no glory to be had, only a decaying realm of ice remains. Everyone awaits for Heaven's descent, an event prophesied to bring the world out of stasis, by granting the champion of the event a wish. Heaven Shall Descend. I wanted to write a high fantasy story that doesn't focuses too much on Magic and Swordfights, but rather interactions between people, a bit of politics and ideals. This is my first attempt at writing something this huge, please let me know if you see mistakes or any problems in general, so I can learn from them. (The cover picture is from the year 1818, "Wanderer Above the Mist" by Caspar David Friedrich). I also write Short stories set in the same shared universe. You can read them here: Dark Fantasy Short Stories.
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A Tfa Ratchet x Reader (I'm gonna do this cause there's not nearly enough ratchet content) Cold. It was cold. It was neither consuming black or clinging white. It was just quiet. Peaceful. You were drawn forward, but suddenly yanked back with burning adrenaline. You screamed out only to be silent.(completed)
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