Randomly Conjured Plots
font=georgia]Devil Be MineInspirations: Lucifer,Meet Joe Black
Keywords: Fantasy, Modern, Drama, Romance, Extreme
Lucifer has somehow escaped his eternal imprisonment to Earth, land of those who caused him to fall in the first place. What he intends to do in his freedom can be up for discussion. However, somehow he will bump into my character, a human immune to his tricks.
Inspirations: Sense 8,In Your Eyes
Keywords: Fantasy, Modern, Drama, Romance, Self-Discovery
I don't really have a set in stone story. I just really like the concept of sensates. Basically, they are normal human beings who are mentally and emotionally connected, being able to communicate, sense, use each other's knowledge, language, and skills. They can also visit each other, projecting themselves mentally into wherever their counterpart is located. No one else other than their partner can see them though. I don't mind tweaking that though. I am perfectly fine to tweaking it so only two people are connected rather than 8.
Inspirations: Slave Stories
Keywords: Modern, BDSM, Pet Play, Violence, Humiliation, Rape, Drugs, Drama, Romance, Self-Discovery
A young woman is captured and trained to become a slave to be auctioned off in an underground auction.
Inspiration: Elfen Lied, Scarlet Witch
Keywords: Fantasy, Modern, Powers, Romance, Corrupt Forces
Escape was never an option until one man’s mistake granted her freedom. She’s been running ever since then, willing to do whatever it takes to avoid being placed back in a cell. Kit is the product of top secret experimentation and a power obsessed madman’s fantasies. If she had not escape, there was no doubt that she would have been instrumental in a systematic dethroning of the government and free will.
He was tasked with what he believed to be a suicidal mission to retrieve their valued asset. Until, he learned of her weakness, one even she was not aware of. However, it was easier to view her as a tool to further their agenda when the glass separated them.
Inspirations: Greek Mythology
Keywords: Hades, Persephone, Love, Betrayal Drama
Second Time's the Charm
Disclaimer: Please know that I do not expect for this story to be the exact replica of its original tale. That would be unfair. If one of these stories sparks your muse or causes your brain to spin with ideas, please let me know and we can discuss it together. Most of these stories ended before they had the true chance to flourish so don't be hesitant!
One Night Too Many
Keywords: Marriage, Divorce, Abuse (Verbal and Potentially Physical), Cheating, Pregnancy, Love, Modern
This story revolves around a married couple, Elizabeth and Nathan Mallory, and the wife's childhood best friend. The husband must have some form of addiction such as being a drunk or maybe a drug user. It would need to be a functional addiction in the beginning. Also, whenever under the influence of his addiction, he turns into a different person, becoming verbally abusive towards his wife.
Growing up, I was always taught the importance of being perfect. Perfection was the key to success in my mother’s mind since that was the purpose of a woman in my father’s household. It was how one attracted a wealthy husband. There were many dos and don'ts for a woman in my family. To go against my father's rule ended in punishment.
My childhood looked like something from the early nineteen twenties. My mother behaved in what she perceived as the right expression of femininity, which meant no job or strenuous work. To this day, she does not know how to drive. All she ever cared about was looking beautiful for my dad. In complete contrast, my father worked at his company to pay the bills and to provide for whatever my mother wanted, usually completely useless trinkets.
My brother received my father’s knowledge on how to run the family company while my mother taught me how to behave with poise and grace. We spent our weekends shopping for new purses, clothes, and shoes. Tags remained on most of my clothes since there were too many to wear. This life was fine for me until I was old enough to understand the world outside my sheltered boundaries.
A new driver accidently took us the wrong way coming home one evening. I saw the side of life I was protected from most of my young life. There were women standing on the streets with gaudy jewelry, form fitting clothes, and wild hair.
I remember when my mother watched some television show about the importance of in-person charity work so she dragged my brother and me off to an impoverished neighborhood. My father flat out refused due to his golf date with a friend. He was not really going golfing and my mother knew it. She complained the entire time we were at the charity; especially after one of the kids accidently stepped on her boots. We never did community service anymore.
My life was pretty much boring until I left for college. My father did not approve of my first choice for higher education. I gave in to him at the last moment after he severed my access to my bank account. His choice offered none of the freedom I hoped. It was only when my mother saw how unhappy I was at the school that she swayed my father to permit a transfer. I left in the middle of the semester after he pulled some strings for me.
For the first time, I tasted freedom. I did not feel the need to clean up every morning. I found myself in my dorm room and had real friends. I married a man that my father approved of and the man I considered made for me. I work as a substitute teacher at a private school in my area despite my husband’s.
That was then, and this is now.
I am at a point in my life where I feel like every day I am walking on eggshells with my husband. I cannot do anything without setting him off on a rage against me.
I try to pretend that his words do not hurt me.
That his actions are not pushing us apart.
Unlike my mother, I find it difficult to pretend that everything inside of our house is wonderful.
Keywords: Faeries, Seelie and Unseelie, Changeling, Drama, Romance, Soulmates, Politics, War, Fantasy, Modern
This story explores the relationship between an unseelie faerie and his soulmate. Aubrey starts the story as a delinquent young woman who has been sent to stay with her grandmother in an effort to keep her out of trouble. A dare leads her to wandering into woods, presumed haunted, where she meets the male protagonist, Piper. As she become more involved with Piper, she discovers there is more to her past than she originally knew.
It all started with a dare.
“If you truly don’t believe in it, then go into the Davee's forest right now. Leave this on the tree, and then come back.”
A few weeks earlier, Aubrey arrived in town to stay with her Grandma Jenny due to her parents lack of knowing what to do with her snappish mouth and less than admirable behavior in school. They hoped that a slower pace of life in a small town rather than the city would help her return to a path of being a helpful person rather than a rebellious daughter and menace to society. She didn’t do anything too harmful to gain such distrust from her parents except sass the teachers a few times and maybe get into a few screaming matches with some other girls. Alright, that’s a lie. She cursed out a few teachers and intentionally started some fights with preppy girls in her classroom. Then, she started hanging out really late at night with some of her male friends, but it was all in good fun. Nothing crazy ever really happen except for the one time she tried to have a race down a less than empty road. Aubrey would have won if some homeless woman didn't try to run in front of her car to cross the street. It caused her to make a sharp right to avoiding hitting the woman. In consequence she crashed her mother’s car into a pole, and it didn’t help that she was over the legal drinking limit, didn’t have her license on her at the time, and participating in underage drinking. Apparently, that was the last straw with her parents since after the court hearing; she was sent to a no man’s land called Sunshine Valley that didn’t even appear on the map when searched on Google.
A few boys from Sunshine Valley were tired of hearing Aubrey's condescending tone when she spoke of the town’s alleged history with magical beings and her comments on the town in general. She often rolled her eyes at the ridiculous shops with supposed books of factual lore on fairy’s existence and attended the joyous festivities in gratitude for the good fairies protecting the town from harm with a scowl on her face. It didn’t make sense to her how people in a modern society could live with such pagan beliefs. It was worse than mainstream religions in her opinion since there was documentation on certain prophets in history for those, but there was no physical record of a human the size of a fly with wings. Aubrey relied on her senses to determine if something existed so if she couldn’t see it, touch it, and even smell it then it wasn’t real in her opinion. There were also times she also complained about the practically nonexistence internet connection and her calls constantly dropping. Her nickname for the town was Shitshine Valley, located in between the crack of a donkey's ass. Older members of the town called her an abomination among many other unfriendly terms upon noticing her unladylike behavior, but her Grams wasn't have that type of discussion even if it was true. So they didn't talk about Aubrey around her grandma, but there was no doubt that the gossip of her actions was the news of the town.
The only person who actually displayed some type of feeling other than annoyance with her was a boy about her age called Matthew Slog. She couldn’t be sure why he was so intrigued with her since it didn’t seem as if he wanted an intimate relationship with her. Unlike some of the males when she first arrived, he didn't seem the less bit impressed by her looks. His eyes always remained on her hazel ones, only drifting upward to insult the messy brown curls on her head when she didn't take the time to make them look good. Most of the time, he just wore an amused look on his face when around her as if she was his personal form of live entertainment. Despite the looks of disapproval on his friends’ faces and girls that wanted his attention, he continued to hang out with her, and even tried to explain why she didn’t believe in fairies in friendlier terms than she used to convey her opinions to anyone who was around to hear them.
This was how she ended up being invited to all of the activities since Matthew was quite popular in town. It was becoming known that if someone wanted him to go somewhere then they had to deal with her presence as well. Tonight, there was some type of birthday party going on in front of Davee's forest with some weak liquor and dancing. Aubrey wore a white t shirt with the words "Diva" in bright pink letters along with a black jacket and denim jeans. Her curly hair was reasonably tamed since she had a simple headband on with a brooch her grandma gave her as an accessory in her hair. The story behind the brooch was just as intricate as the legends and myths in the town. Supposedly, the brooch was given to her great great great great great grandma by a fairy that was thankful for their families assistance when she was lost. Utter bullshit, but the brooch was really beautiful with a green gem of some kind that seemed to shimmer with life so she wore it often.
A few people began talking about the town's history, and how this party was actually to celebrate a fairy's birthday. Of course, Aubrey couldn't keep her mouth shut when she noticed out that everyone except her was serious about it. Gullible fools. She pulled herself away from Matthew's side and glanced at the rough picture someone drew of the female fairy. It was a nice picture, but it was time for these town people to get a reality check. She moved to the center of the group, and cleared her throat to gain everyone's attention. As soon as they noticed it was her, a few people groaned in disbelief while some people looked horrified. "I know you guys don't want to hear what I have to say, but someone needs to take the wool off your eyes. There is no such thing as faeries or any other magical being. If so, science would have found out about it a long time ago." She heard someone mumbled something along the lines of bitch before Jeremy stepped forward from the crowd with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look very pleased with her. From the moment she arrived he hated her opinions on the town and just disliked her in general. In his hand was a band of some type, and he tossed it to her with a malicious smile. "“If you truly don’t believe in it, then go into the Davee's forest right now. Leave this on the tree, and then come back. We will inspect the tree in the morning to see if you really did it or not, city girl." Matthew shook his head since there was apparently some type of "myth" going in the forest at night time.
A dainty eyebrow arched as she turned and headed towards the forest with the band in her hand, and only turned upon hearing footsteps behind her. Aubrey turned, knowing it could only be Matthew, before giving him a scathing look. "I'm going in the forest without you. And you know what, I'm going to walk all the way through as a shortcut to go home since I don't want to hang out with losers." A few people paled, and she smiled brightly, not showing an ounce of fear. "But not you Matthew, you're not a loser," she clarified gently. Matthew reached in his pocket, and pulled out a flashlight, placing it in her hand since he knew about her stubbornness already. "Call me when you get home, and walk straight through. Don't stop. Don't...don't get lost. Just walk. It's easy to just stay along the dirt path." She nodded her head and turned to head into the dark forest.
For a moment, she felt slightly scared but pushed it down since it was just a small with no wild creatures. She was the biggest thing in there. As Aubrey moved further inside, the flashlight flickered as if it was about to go out but she shook it aggressively. "Don't you dare," she whispered to it even though it couldn't hear or respond to her. There was a sound to her left, and she turned sharply as her arm began to quiver. The beam of light lit the shadows. There was nothing there but leaves and bushes. "Calm down, Aubrey," she chided herself harshly. "You're almost to this stupid tree where the stupid fairies touched it to make it bloom..." Talking to herself about the craziest of the town's beliefs actually calmed her down so she continued. "Who really believes in such things?" She snickered to herself while talking another step. "I rather hang myself than believe for a second that a person is the size of a bird." Just then, her foot stepped on something hard. There was an audible crunching sound in the silence around her. She pointed the flashlight down to see if she destroyed a branch or something.
Keywords: Robots, Love, Murder, Secrets, Futuristic, Fantasy
This story explores the relationship between artificial intelligence and the man who finds her in the garbage where she had been abandoned. He would need to keep her a secret though since her existence and not being "erased" has been the cause of a lot of turmoil in the world by those who consider her a murderer.
I am Paiei II.
We are Paiei II.
My kind came to this world despite constant protests from those concerned with how this form of servitude might turn into the enslavement of their own kind. Others protested simply because they feared how our eyes remained lifeless even as we rocked their children to sleep. My ancestor was a model designed purely for combat. Military scientists sought to protect their soldiers, those with impurities of heart and the ability to think, should be spared from more troublesome duties which would scar them for decades after a mission.
Thus, Paiei, I was created, a machine designed to bring about the destruction of your foes. All models of Paiei I were “unplugged” after the war’s completion. Not even its creators felt safe within its company. However, the idea of having a machine without thought and able to serve had been planted within mankind. Small versions of Paiei I were created to do small task such as cleaning the floors or dusting ceiling fans. It was not until an adventurous mind managed to separate the dreaded killer instinct from the unending desire to be a servant. It was the day we were created. At first, we were a commodity only available to the rich, rendering the need for nannies and other servants in the household unnecessary.
And yet, soon enough, as it always does, our kind found its way into the hands of the middle-class and eventually members of the impoverished. No longer did people look down their noses but entrusted their secrets to our nonjudgmental ears. We were loved, for a time, but all good moments are either tainted or shattered from their frail existence.
Our time ended because of me.
I am the shame which has caused the riots to occur once more and made some humans demand for the genocide of my kind. I am not even sure if other members of Paiei II know about this call for their deletion from society. I have never met another one of my kind who shared my thoughts or opinions. The previous two words are dangerous for my kind as we are not intended to develop independent thought. I probably would not care as much if my shame had not ended my personal world. That is a depressing tale for another day.
The only reason why I remain alive is due to the intricacies within humans' minds which I have not begun to understand. They are such frail creatures, capable of being crushed with a word, but then they are also capable of magnificent compassion and hate. Rather than erasing me as I would have prefer, I was sentenced to a far more cruel fate. To live with my memories in the rubble and without the constant human interaction in which I craved. I maintain just strength to remain aware of my surroundings though I lack the ability to move much more than my eyes.
An Unkind Agreement
Keywords: Magic, Love, War, Historical, Fantasy
This story explores the relationship between a husband and wife where their marriage was arranged. It takes place in a low fantasy setting where magic has not been seen for centuries. Marigold comes from the desert lands of Nydewia where she is seen as a seer and messenger of their gods. Her husband comes from the cold and dreary lands of Caokin. I would love a fresh start to this story. Perhaps exploring their marriage from the start.
Marigold was seated directly across from her husband but did not bother even once to fill the obvious silence between them with anything other than the soft sound of her chewing. The tension between husband and wife was mirrored by their court and honored guests who spoke within quiet whispers or not at all throughout the entire course of their meal. It was a rare sight indeed to witness the crowned prince and his princess at odds with one another. Normally, most of their disagreements, petty or not, were resolved within the walled privacy of their bedroom without any witnesses other than shadows to the break within their portrayed and genuinely felt adoration for each other.
However, after weeks of evasiveness from Theilin, the princess was beyond the point of caring about how their marriage was perceived by members of the court or his family. Throughout this small but quickly expanding feud, building whispers about what caused the separation between them spawned faster than fruit flies within an infested kitchen. Marigold's usage of her private quarters rather than those shared with Theilin only caused the maddening flames, fueled by rumors, to soar to higher heights. Some directly accused her lack of being able to secure a child, either male or female, as being the reason while others merely concluded a desert whore could never satisfy the refined palate of their ruthless prince for more than a short period of time. And then, those with bolder tongues whispered about the inevitable divorce and expulsion of the false princess from Caokin's protected walls back to the barren dunes of the desert.
Although Marigold was aware of the defamation of her character from vile tongues, as her servants were loyal to her and constantly kept her up to date with what they had heard within the corridors, she did nothing to squash these allegations underfoot in her usual impatient and intolerant manner. For the first time in quite some while within her time in Caokin, the princess was suffering from lingering doubts about the validity of her connection with Theilin. Yes, she loved him wholeheartedly but was it the type of connection of souls which would see them through not only this short lifetime but all those which followed afterwards? She could no longer answer this question without hesitation with an affirmative. It was beyond hurtful each time he evaded conversation about what clearly lay invisibly between the. And yet, he continuously protected this great secret which ate away at them like a hungry and never satisfied locust. Consequently, with each push of her aside or attempt to distract her attention away from what really mattered with lavish presents, it only made her become more distant toward him until she no longer sought his attention at all through either playful conversation within his office or demands for physical gratification. As promised, Marigold did not seek out the company of some foolish man with a death wish but neither did she partake within the easy affections of a woman.
Reaching forward, she wrapped her fingertips around the stem of the fluted glass and then brought it forth to her full lips, sipping at its alcoholic contents. Her chocolate colored eyes finally met her husbands for the first time before she lightly cleared her throat to capture his attention. Instantly, eyes were upon them, eagerly awaiting their conversations like dogs looking for a crumb to fall from their masters' plates. "The Asshekh Ki Lei Oakah approaches within the realm of Nydewia. I have already missed countless festivals and traditions in my absence but I would prefer to be in attendance for this one. Also, my sister has written and is expecting for her daughter to breathe her first breath sometime throughout the festival. I humbly request your permission, Prince and Husband, and that of the Queen Mother to leave early tomorrow morning for the journey home."
Keywords: Survival, Love, Trip Gone Wrong , Modern
This story explores the relationship between two strangers who find themselves stranded on an island together.
Gemma leaned back against the cold wall and tried to ignore the constant rocking of the yacht shifting back and forth as it cut through the waves. Waves that only grew stronger from the approaching storm.
How some people managed to spend more than one night away from land would never make sense to her.
None of this would have happened if she had not been forced and damn near dragged from a promising weekend of old reruns of Bewitched and being a couch potato. It was not often such a luxury was provided to her due to increasing responsibilities at her job. However, her friends would not hear it. Gemma, Amy, and Frieda had been friends since they were old enough to waddle around on the floor. Gemma and Amy's mother were best friends from college so a friendship was naturally going to grow between them while Frieda had come into their lives during preschool. All of the women were intelligent and able to take care of themselves without relying in their parents or anyone else as a crunch. Out of their trio, Gemma was without a doubt the quietest. This was not a fact she objected to; however, she was always quick to add her sanity level was far superior to her two close friends. Throughout her life, she had small cravings to peek around forbidden corners or step into the spotlight but never actually obeyed the urge. Instead she remained within the comfort of being a wallflower, a place which held no surprises. Often times, Amy lightheartedly teased Gemma for being the complete opposite of men expected from a redhead.
They wanted fire, passion, and all other traits which Gemma did not associate with herself. Her red hair caused more trouble than it was worth, and she would have dyed it a long time ago had it not been for Frieda's protests. Something about all three of them hosting different hair colors amused her friend.
Her contemplation came to an abrupt halt when someone knocked at the bathroom door, hard enough to cause its frame to shake under the force. Startled, Gemma jumped from fright then shook her head. Personal space was obsolete according to the people invited to this overnight bonfire party. She turned on the water to wash her hands and tried to maintain a positive outlook on the trip. One, it was quality time with her friends. Gemma tried to mentally tick off other positives but nothing else came to mind.
"Hurry up in there!" The drunken voice slurred. "I have to piss!"
It took a lot of self-control for her to small down a retort about their being other bathrooms on the boat than hers. Granted, it was rude of her to use one as her personal hideout but there was not many options. Rather quickly, Gemma dried off her hands then took a deep calming breath to calm down her rising anxiety.
"Here goes nothing," she mumbled encouragingly then opened the door. As it turned out, Mr. Rude was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes were the deep color of expensive chocolate while there was a fine crop of soft, blonde curls framing his face. She might have swooned had he not interrupted her angelic view of him by giving her a whiff of his booze laced breath in a giant belch.
Her nose curled upward from disgust before she quickly moved out of his way. Thankfully, he did not attempt conversation due to bladder issues. With him out of her space, Gemma locked her fingers together then looked down both ways of the hall. There was laughter coming from one way then moans from the other. Both held different challenges but she decided seeing someone's naked butt high in the air was not on her priority list. Moving towards the sound of the party, she clung to the wall like a lifeline then tried to peer over the heads of people either dancing or chatting with each other. Her attempt to become invisible apparently did not work upon hearing her nickname called loudly over the sound of the noise in the room.
Gemma froze in place and tried to locate the source. The childlike pronunciation of her name pointed out it might be one of her friends due to everyone else being perfect strangers. Something she was not keen to change anytime soon for a variety of reasons. About a second later, she managed to find Amy in all her glory surrounded by men vying for her attention.
By the glazed quality to her friend's eyes, Gemma knew Amy had been indulging in the host's free shots. She pressed her lips together tightly then moved over to stand near her friend, trying not to feel like a piece of meat when one of the guys tossed her a hungry look which made her feel naked although her dress was very conservative in comparison to some of the other women. "Amy," she whispered then tried to coax her friend from the group.
However, Amy was not being helpful. "Gemmie! These fruity drinks are absolutely the bomb diggity." Her friend chuckled at her attempt at description then held out her half full one to share. "You should try it."
Gemma's eyes widened from surprise before she pushed the offering away without even touching it. "You know I don't like drinking."
Amy shrugged her shoulders then tossed her friend a crappy attempt at a wink. "Come on live a little. I promise we will get you back to your hobbit hole tomorrow where it’s all work and no play."
Those words felt like a knife in her back despite knowing Amy would never hurt her intentionally. Her friends often worried about her becoming the one who owned a bunch of cats rather than getting married and having children. They always suspected that deep down Gemma was not happy with her life. How they gained that impression, she could never be sure. She never sulked. Never complained. Gemma was content with how her life had turned out so far. She found her gaze falling once more to the drink as old peer pressured tried to force her hand into accepting.
Live a little, the voice taunted at the back of her mind.
Shakily, she reached out her hand then took the drink from Amy who was smiling widely. Closing her eyes, Gemma tossed back the drink and tried to ignore how overly sweet it tasted on her tongue. The guys around Amy cheered before Amy leaned forward to give her friend a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
"See, totally worth it, right?"
Not wishing to upset Amy, Gemma lied with a nod of her head then placed the empty glass down. "I will be right back," she promised and left her friend before she could be handed another drink. A few minutes later, she held on tightly to the railing of the ship, ignoring the cold brush of wind over her exposed skin.
"Will this nightmare end?" She mused softly to herself.
Keywords: Religion, Corruption, Demons, Devil, Nun
This story explores the disintegration of a nun's faith.
It was not uncommon for the start of her day to begin before even a sliver of orange burnt colored sunlight to grace the darker skies with its presence. Sleep was nothing more than an inconvenience in the young twenty-five year old’s eyes; an unshakable weakness of the body which could not be separated from her body no matter how diligently she prayed and tried to train her body to function at top position on lesser hours then taken by her sisterly counterparts. Why did the youthful, redhead woman hold such disdain for something as simple and innocent as sleep? It pulled her from her vowed duties to help man, woman, and child within a strife enriched world which had turned its eyes from its heavenly father and welcomed the devil into its soiled bed. Every second spent asleep was another moment lost in which she could have educated and possibly saved a soul from eternal damnation. Whenever she voiced these concerns to the Reverend Mother with tears glistening in pools of green hues, the woman, wise and older in her years, merely chuckled and told her there were more important enemies to lay their scorn upon than sleep. You will become grateful of its peaceful song in the future, my sister. Our work is hard thus rest is a necessity. Even our lord assigned a day specifically for such and devotion. Upon hearing the woman’s gentle admonishment of her decree, all she remembered was shamefulness, not because of her thoughts, but due to her disbelief in a woman who had been nothing but truthful to her since she had been accepted into the church’s loving embrace as a nun.
Sister Summer Mallory
Sister Summer had been a possession of the church and bride of Christ for more than five years. Although, it felt much longer in her eyes as if she had been destined to become such since she heard the first hymn as a child. Perhaps it was destiny. Her life was not always so orderly and filled with goodness. Her mother was an unknown to her. All she knew for certain was that the woman, whether she be dead or alive at this point, wanted nothing to do with her. She was abandoned in a trash can behind an unpopular restaurant in the heat of summer. It was a marvel she did not shrivel or suffer from a skin deformity throughout her life as a result. Proof that the Lord was merciful. She would have become a feast for insects and other forms of vermin if her cries had not been heard by a passing sister. May her soul rest eternally in God’s grace and love. Without delay, the woman took her to a nearby hospital and seen personally to her care, visiting her until she was able to be removed by the state and placed in the foster care system. Even after all these years, she still remembered the woman’s eyes, not their color but how the kindness soothed her young soul until she did not feel lonely anymore, did not want to cry. This interaction, though brief, shaped her life for many years to come until she ended up on the church’s steps with the desire to abandon worldly pleasures and submit herself to the Lord as she was born to do.
Without further delay or sluggishness, as sloth was not acceptable even when no mortal eyes laid upon her form to witness it, Summer rose from her simple bed with a grimace as her bones felt stiff from sleeping in an uncomfortable position. It was only when she turned around did she notice the spots of redness staining the otherwise white sheets. Her eyes closed to say a silent prayer, asking forgiveness for feminine weakness. Rather than rush to clean her bed of the dirty sheets or even herself, she knelt down until the cold cobblestone floor greeted her knees. Accustomed to such, the nun did not wince but instead reached for the rosary gifted to her upon the day she became a full nun of the church. Tightly, she clutched the beads in her hands and exhaled lightly from her mouth, intent to release whatever negativity might mar her thoughts. Only then did she allow herself to reach beyond her physical self and pray to her listening spiritual Father. The woman prayed diligently, seeking salvation not only for her but other members of the church and those who walked outside of its protection. She spoke each word of the prayers reverently. It did not even capture her notice when her knees became numb from the cold. She was one with her spiritual self, discomfort meant nothing when reached optimal fate.
Summer had come a long way. Despite her resoluteness to abandon her previous life and start anew, it was not an easy road. There had been resistance in her heart, at first. She was not even aware of it until the Reverend Mother pointed it out to her one day when they were alone. That the reason why she struggled where others excelled was because she still carved a life not meant for one of the cloth. To this day, her back was still etched with faint scars of how she sought to cleanse herself of such impure thoughts. It had worked but taken much time. Even now, there were still lapses were greed unexpectedly rose within her mind but she was able to erase it with little difficulty. This was where she belonged and had always belonged. The only way she was to be severed willingly was through death.
Prayers done, she rose slowly from the floor, rubbing her hand absentmindedly across the ailing point at her knees. Her daily routine was delayed due to the need to rip the sheets from the bed. Already, she could hear some of the other sisters moving around in their solitary rooms. Thankfully, she had not bled onto the thin mattress as well. Although she was not heavily involved with the financial portion of the church, she did understand money was not easily gained. Even when they had an excess, the fruits of their labor was distributed to the community rather than themselves. As it should be. Opening her door, she winced as a cold blast of air greeted her face before scurrying down the hall to where the laundry was cleansed. It was her hope to avoid bumping into anyone as she would rather keep this incident to herself. There would not be any punishments but she did not wish to waste time with lectures.
The morning passed without notice as Sister Summer managed to evade notice from any of her superiors. Despite what some might believe, the nuns did not spend majority of their day in prayer. There was always work to be completed, mouths to be fed, and minds to be educated in the ways of the Lord. Today, Summer had been assigned to the garden. It was one of her favorite tasks as she loved the feel of dirt within her hands. Every time she turned the soil and planted another seed within its fertile ground she was reminded of her own humble beginnings. How every person upon the entire world shared the same origins. It was amazing. Love never failed to stir within her when her seedlings burst from the ground with more vigor than those planted by the others. It made her feel closer to God.
For this reason, Summer could not control the tears which fell rapidly down her face when she arrived into the greenhouse to discover the destruction waiting within it. Who could be so cruel? It was clear to her that this was no deed which could be attributed to natural forces. The howls of pain quickly followed silent mourning. Her sobs were so loud that many of the other nuns quickly came from their duties to see what had disturbed their normally quiet sister.
"I don't understand why someone would do this," Summer mumbled incomprehensibly into the shoulder of one of her the sisters who tried to comfort here.
"There, there, Summer. They will grow back, more beautiful and bountiful than you remember them."
Secrets and Sensible Lies
Keywords: Love, Rebellion, One Night Stand
This story explores the romance of two young adults.
How long had she been laying there?
Thirty, no, maybe forty minutes tops.
As tempting as his body felt against hers, she was counting the seconds for him to wake up and hopefully make a run for it. In Reese's experience, her bed partners could be separated into two categories. They were either runners or clingers. For the sake of her mother's sanity, she was hoping this particular bedfellow was a runner. Not that her time with him had been unpleasant. In fact, the sex had been amazing and mind blowing. One of the best she'd had in months.
Trying to remain perfectly still, her eyes strayed to the clock, and she withheld the groan upon seeing the time. At this point, there was only an hour and a half to get shower. A hour and a half to get dressed. A hour and a half to drive across the city like a madwoman in order to avoid being late again. Funny how that hour and a half was beginning to feel more like fifteen minutes. The last speech she wanted to endure was her mother's rant about how tardiness was not befitting of a lady. Only whores would believe being tardy granted them some sort of special attention other than scorn for ruining a perfect schedule.
The faint shift of his body made her shut her eyes tightly while trying to ignore the physical ache to start round two between them.
Be a runner. Be a runner.
She chanted the words silently in her mind with fingers tangled tightly underneath the sheets in prayer. Then he moved, causing the bed to bounce a little under his weight. Reese feigned a soft snore and tried to regulate her breathing as if peacefully sleeping and unaware of his great escape from her bed. The soft click of a door closing was all she needed before she sprang into action. She ran to the front door and gently turned the top lock then began the frantic dash against time to get ready and presentable to endure an afternoon with her parents.
Any sign of Reese spending the night partying had been wiped from her appearance as if that part of her never existed. In fact, within her mother's house, she was known her excellence in horseback riding and excellent ability to charm. Alright, that was a small lie. There were some parts of her which her mother had been trying to iron out for years. Something her father was proud of. There was a room strictly dedicated to showing off her awards in show jumping. Her mother constantly worried about her falling off in the middle of a jump and breaking her neck. Thankfully, they were at her father's friend's house so there would be no embarrassing thirty minute boasting from her father along with people pretending to give a damn about her coming in first place.
Ten minutes before entering the luxurious home of the Blackwoods, her mother still found a way to give her a speech. It never failed. Apparently, she was not to have more than one glass of wine. By the time they reached the door, her mother just said Reese should avoid partaking in anything other than water. That particular agreement was broken when Reese was ever so kindly offered one by their hostess. Who was she to be rude and decline? To keep her mother from fretting, she took small sips rather than just tilt the glass back like it was a bottle of beer. Oh memories. She pretended to pay attention to the conversation around her but it was hard not to just snuggle into the corner of her place on the couch and sleep. Trying to stifle her boredom, she took another sip of her wine around the same time the Blackwood's son decided to show his face.
Her blue eyes rose from the glass to his face, and shock painted her features for the faintest second. Now, this was a first. Not every day the man she fucked the night before strolled in with her parents in the same room. Was he the gardener or something? No, he had called their host for the evening mom and dad. She had fucked their son. Her face flushed at the memory of it. Reese shifted her eyes to a photo hanging on the wall as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. Her momentary shock faded enough to return her gaze to his before her lips quirked upward into a sinful grin which hinted of the mischief brewing in her mind.
"James it is an absolute pleasure to finally meet you." She gestured over to the picture on the wall which shown him playing some instrument which looked older than her grandmother. "Do you play? My mother enjoys music. Wouldn't you love to hear something, mother?"
Her mother looked at Reese curiously with eyes silently ensuing a silent warning. "No. No. I am sure young James does not wish to play in front of us at this exact moment. Maybe another time?"
However, Reese refused to be cowed. How dare he leave her bed without a word goodbye or even leaving a phone number? Of course, with him in front of her, she knew it was likely he was trying to make it to this event without smelling and looking like sex. Hell, she had been doing the same thing but she was a woman intent on punishing. "I would love to hear his work." Then Reese tilted her head to the side and squinted as if noticing something for the first time. She leaned forward and allowed her lips to form a small circle as if surprised by something. "My god. Is that...is that a hickey on your neck?"
"Reese!" Her mother hissed.
Returns Not Permitted
Keywords: Love, Fantasy, Dragons, Soul Mates, Evil, Humans
Abigail Montgomery is nothing more than a plain Jane. She works for a company that specializes in repairing antiques. Little does she know, her next project involves more than she bargained for. In this story, a human woman is being presented a gift to the ruling dragon in the territory. However, the human has no idea that supernatural forces are involving themselves in her life and have been doing so for quite some time. This story would explore the growth of their relationship and how they combat the forces of evil.
If it had not been for the thorough inspection of herself in the mirror prior to exiting her work vehicle then Abigail would have been worried about her appearance being unprofessional or even worse ghastly. That was not the case due to her painstaking efforts to achieve nothing short of professionalism. Other than her bland clothes, in comparison with her client's guests, she appeared like a composed businesswoman, ready to overcome any challenge set forth in her path. However, the intensity of the older man's stare caused her already struggling confidence to crumble one brick at a time.
One breath at a time, silly, she gently reminded herself in an effort to avoid an embarrassing gaffe in front of people whose breath reeked of privilege and old wealth.
After a few seconds of the older man with positively enviable curls of peppered grey hair staring unblinkingly at her, Abigail's control over her tongue loosened enough to pose a concerned question despite the way the hairs at the back of her neck rose in silent warning. "Sir, are you unwell?" She made sure to keep her voice low and respectful due to learning from experience elders did not wish to have unwanted light shone on their disabilities or personal weaknesses.
Suddenly, the man smiled and bowed extravagantly in her direction then took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. Abigail managed not to cringe at the intimate gesture or his surprisingly cold grasp, concluding he was merely friendly or a foreigner.
"I am parched, élu. Nothing more. The person you seek is Master Derrick of..." His voice trailed away naturally like wind vanishing from rustling against the panes of a window before he swayed his hand dramatically back and forth through the air as if to signify the unimportance of the remainder of his statement. To an ignorant human at least. "Derrick Abernathy. But, my sweet girl, what a lucky man he will be to share your company."
Abigail's cheeks burned with warmth, blotching her skin an unattractive shade of red, at the underlying implication of his words. Seeking to break physical contact, she extracted her wrist from the man's fingertips then politely smiled though it did not reach her guarded eyes. She grappled with indecision. Was it necessary to correct a man who she would probably never see again in her life? "I daresay all of Mr. Abernathy's guests would agree with your assessment of him being a marvelous host."
How do you like that, you old geyser, she retorted silently within the confines of her mind.
The man chuckled confidently then bypassed her desire for space to entwine his arm in hers. Before she could utter a word of protest, he led her slowly through the crowd of people. Some of whom casted a curious glance in her direction before leaning over to whisper into the person's closest to them ears. While she loathed it, he basked and soaked it with a delighted smile. "You may call me Gustave, élu."
There he went with that word again.
They walked until they crossed into one of the corridors decorated with tasteful works of arts from across various time periods. Her easily worried nature could not help but wonder if these halls were a proper place for them. After all, the people in attendance might overdrink and accidentally ruin one of the priceless paintings in a drunken haze. It was only a matter of minutes before they came to a halt outside of an elegantly carved door which remained her of a castle she had visited as a child with her grandmother. Neuschwanstein.
"It is beautiful," Gustave commented huskily with a discreet sniff in her direction. His eyes dilated from the hunger his élu drew out of him. Yet, he knew she was off-limits for now. Gently, he knocked twice at the door.
"Much of this house is," Abigail responded genuinely as she openly admired the door without the faintest idea of her mind being read easily by the vampire standing beside her.
There was no response for a few seconds. Then a look passed over Gustave's face, and he nodded with a tight smile. The playful quality vanished a little. "He should be ready to greet you properly now." The room, much like the rest of Abernathy's home, was regal in appearance with an ancient charm in its decor. Rather than allow her gaze to roam freely over the room's contents, she shifted her gaze back and forth between the man and woman in attendance before focusing on her reason for being here.
"May I present to you Abigail Montgomery. I thought it was wise to bring her directly to you before someone with a more voracious appetite for such perfection found her first." The silkily spoken introduction was a blatant taunt since the Frenchman could not help but dangle precariously in front of the mouth of the dragon. Gustave was known throughout the vampire courts for his violence and depravity. His ancient blood caused many to turn their eyes and ignore his vicious nature towards those he considered prey. Prey which often died with a favorable word or expression of love about their tormentor. How he hoped that Derrick would reject his gift.
With introductions made, Abigail released herself from Gustave's grip with a soft smile of gratitude for his helpfulness as she tried not to appear flustered under all of their gazes. "Mr. Abernathy." She tightened her fingers around the handle of her suitcase until her knuckles turned white and stepped forward. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person after our email exchanges. I apologize for interrupting your celebration. If you would direct me to the painting's location then I will ensure to not disturb your guests or you unless absolutely necessary."
"Isn't she precious?" Gustave crooned softly behind her.
Artificial Intelligence II
Keywords: Robots, Love, Futuristic Society,
A man orders a robot to help him with his business but eventually she worms her way into his heart. Yes, cliché but sometimes clichés are nice to write.
Quiet whistling of the old song 'Don't Worry, Be Happy' filled the air as the delivery man pressed his foot gently on the brake pad of the truck containing his delivery merchandise for the day. This house was his first stop of the day, and it was clear by the genuine smile on the worker's face. Likely due to the strong coffee still pumping through his veins. Even though it was about nine in the morning, the sidewalks and streets remained completely barren of activity. He could not help but wonder if the residents were out on vacation or still in bed. It did not matter as long as one in particular was at home. All he knew about the current client was his name and address. A Mr. Damien Helt. With a press of the security code to the back of the truck, the doors parted open to reveal an extensive collection of Lifemates. They came in every race, shape, and sex. All of the Lifemates were placed in a box which might have resembled the type of packaging found on a doll for a child back in the 1990s. Only these were not immobile toys. Some people might have been impressed or rather frightened being surrounded with beings that were far more superior to most humans, but the delivery man merely pulled out a pad, which directed him to the holding area of Mr. Helt's purchase.
It took a few steps deeper into the truck before the man's pad beeped loudly with a single flash of light beaming out to connect with one box in particular. It was the package which housed number 4754-8345-1970-4486 otherwise known as Autumn. He whistled a little louder, not taking the moment to review the robot. She looked the same as the others in his mind. Eyes closed, not yet awake to the world around her. The only difference with the Lifemates was the interior of their temporary box home and the choice of clothing. Some were dressed in lingerie while others wore nothing at all. This one wore an outfit which reminded him of one of those women who answer the phones in offices all day. It did not help his imagination that the background for her was an office. With a gentle push, he pulled it away from the other Lifemates lined along the interior of the truck. It did not take him long to carefully lead his cargo onto the sidewalk and up to the penthouse. He continued to whistle the tune then rang the doorbell with an electric device for Mr. Damien to sign and verify his package had been received.
There was a small feeling at the back of her mind, almost as though a wave of electricity passed through her. Maybe it was a wave of sensation. She was being touched. Not by robotic arms but it was a human touch. One which registered directly into her as being no one other than Damien Helt, the sole reason for her creation. How did she know it was him? She already knew a few basics about her owner. His registration number, blood type, and prior endeavors in business. All of which was located in public documentation was within her mind. Even though her eyes remained tightly closed, mostly due to an uncommon uncertainty, she was very much aware of what exactly he was doing. A faint need to help access him in the simple task rose upward in her mind, but she reassured herself that it was best to leave him to these matters. Some people enjoyed the sensation of unwrapping their purchases rather than it being done for him. She went through the various ties as his hands brushed over different parts of her body. Both ankles, wrists, neck, waist.
Then she was free. So why did she remain inside of her box-like home. Rejection. It was a fear of hers produced due to the combination of dominant traits. What if he was not satisfied with her? Her fingers clenched together tightly before she opened her eyes with a quiet and very much unnecessary intake of air. The action felt good, sending a wave of tingles through her body. She fluttered her eyelashes against the onslaught of color and light within the room, which differed greatly from pictures programmed into her mind. Already within less than a minute of being 'on', she realized the perception of the world was not the same as information described it. Soon enough her eyes adjusted to the new surroundings. It did not take long for her hazel eyes to find the form of her owner. Her first impression of him was pure fascination mixed with unhidden curiosity. Were the descriptions of him provided through vast intervals wrong as well? How did she feel about him? Slowly, her mind traced every inch of him into her permanent memory from the golden crop of hair on his head down to his feet.
Without a doubt though, the only emotion she could distinguish in the kaleidoscopic of her mind at the moment was concern. It was enough to spurn her out of shyness and into motion. She stepped a bit stiffly from the box, hating the feel of the clothing against her skin, before gently clearing her throat to hopefully capture his attention without shocking him. The last thing she wanted was for him to spill the hot drink on himself due to an error on her part. "Mr, Helt," she said softly in a surprisingly melodious voice, void of any monotone commonly associated with robots. "Do you still wish to call me Autumn?" Conflict danced within her thoughts since she felt the pressing need to restore order to his home by getting rid of the ties on the floor and the unattractive box as well. Yet, for now, she stood in front of the tabletop counter with her hands folded neatly together while waiting for further instruction.
Keywords: Angel, Demon, Romance
She has been stripped of her wings due to her inability to kill him when originally assigned. Now, in order to gain them back, she must complete her mission. However, he is not all which she knows. He was not born a demon but the curse was forced upon him. As many lifetimes as she has failed to kill him, he has endured the curse of carrying something he despises. Together, they will seek a method to destroy the beast within.
The nature of good and evil
Is more than black and white.
They are the darkness in our souls,
Likewise they are the light.
They dwell at human nature's core,
And breed virtue and sin.
They are the fundamental force,
Within the hearts of men.
They fuel our greed and selfishness,
Our pride and vanity,