fantasy
Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.
Some You Can Save
There were ashes everywhere. The young squire stood in the gutted manor, her duster flapping in the breeze from the shattered windows. Her name was Thea Dorran and the scales round her crocodilian eyes marked the tainted blood she had inherited from her great grandmother. Her Hexanhounds roamed back and forth sniffing everything. The baron was so upset he was coming close to treason in his ranting.
By Robert O'Carroll9 years ago in Futurism
In the Midst of Wonder
There you are amidst a very unfamiliar, peculiar place. You lie cheek sunken into the sand as your eyes decipher what seems to be a beach. Your hands are stretched out beside you with palms hugging the grainy sand and you notice you are holding a necklace. You remembered just moments ago you were at a beach, however, not this beach, and remembered that you were running towards the ocean and splashing your way into the rhythmic pattern of the waves as each pull of the water gently hit your body. You picked up that same necklace you had found and within a few seconds, dark clouds and a huge storm roar into what was once a calm and sunny day at the beach. You got wiped out under the waves and now, this is where you are. An all too familiar, yet unfamiliar place.
By Roslene Villalon9 years ago in Futurism
The Journey
Brock Curly was riding his red ostrich to Alpha Square. The Gavin Stardust Convention in Crystal Castle was set to be one of the greatest pop culture events of all time. He was not going to miss it: this was a once in a life time opportunity to meet one of his childhood icons.
By Chloe Gilholy9 years ago in Futurism
The Nyxis Chronicles: I Will Live
...The Hero was out of options, out of time. He was exhausted, worn out, and left with only a tiny bit of strength left. He faced down the villain, his arch-enemy with a gaze that could match the sun in ferocity, throwing his final punch, screaming out at the top of his lungs the promise he made long ago...
By Dylan Waith9 years ago in Futurism
A Cold Heart
Entering Obsidian with Mirabel and Tatiana in tow had been a chance. Nym had heard Ophelia's call and had arrived in Dead City, but she had not expected the pull to her former home to be so strong. The castle was as it was, although Dark was now in torpor. What had happened after her departure, she wasn't quite sure, but she was amazed that Ophelia had even allowed her to walk through the doors again after what she had done. It couldn't have been a secret, right?
By Alexia Masy9 years ago in Futurism
The Adventure of Gnomie the Orc
Gnomie is known as a simple Orc chief, cherishing the old ways, hating the newer tribes for changing rules around. After being a chieftain for 23 years, I decided to go traveling. In a feeble attempt to find out why most orcs had begun abandoning the older ways, for new more forgiving ways. Upon the journey, I happened across a group of bandits, thinking nothing of them, I just decided to walk past, most men are to afraid to risk pissing off an Orc of such size. Sadly, I was mistaken here, They aimed a blowdart gun at me, so I simply waved as I passed. That's when I felt the slight pick in my neck. Damn pesky humans, using toxins and poison, they have no idea how to fight like real men.
By Mike Lamoureux9 years ago in Futurism
The Nyxis Chronicles: Knight of Darkness
Gael Newblood had lived his entire life stealing from others. His Father told him he had stolen his Mother’s life away when he was born right before abandoning him on the street. After that, Gael was forced to steal from others to sustain his own life. Be it bread, fruit, or anything he could nab from a per-occupied vendor, if Gael could eat it he would steal it.
By Dylan Waith9 years ago in Futurism
Escape
The wind nipped through the windows, fluttering the curtains solemnly. As the fabric flew out, the darkness of the night was revealed. Beside the bed in which her children lay, the Elve stroked their cheeks, watching as they slept in the glow of the candlelight, her two boys. Her expression seemed admiring, to watch her children sleeping so calmly, oblivious to every problem that could occur. As the door behind her was thrown open, she did not turn. Instead, her face began to become twisted with fear, and anger, and her eyes grew damp.
By Daniel Mould9 years ago in Futurism
Monster Heel
E-Jo the Bull Mountain was ten feet tall (when he decided to be that small) and billed as being from the mysterious sounding L’Ile de Pieces Inconnus and composed of stone like the Easter-Island-like island statues and empowered by the same gods of otherness. Thus, E-Jo at the beginning of his professional wrestling career elicited the first type of heat.
By F. Simon Grant9 years ago in Futurism
Pegasus
“Kudrow? Where are we going?” I didn’t know. They wouldn’t say. Phil is next to me, his hands balled tightly in his lap. For some reason, despite everything, I’m worried he’ll wet himself. That’s what I’m worried about. The girl across from me won’t look at me. She’s scared too, obviously. She has to be. We all are. I can see her face through the small sliver of light that shine’s through the black tarp of that lines the windows. It makes everything dark, everything cold. I can feel the sting under me, of the cold seat. The others feel it too; they cringe with their knees up and shoulders tightly compressed. There must be twelve of us, sitting, at least, trying to keep still as the bus rocked.
By Ian Holmes9 years ago in Futurism
