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Here's an unfinished one! If anyone has ideas, they're welcome to tell me.

 

A Heart of Thorns

Written by Gallium

Three centuries ago, the forested realm of Ixtethar was recast as Velleity. A succession of weak and arrogant monarchs led Ixtethar into a fractured existence, but one well-timed and well-planned revolution cleansed the realm of its unneeded misguidance. Currently, no one rules Velleity, yet neither does anyone need to. The realm prospers and flourishes within its autonomy. Still, even in the purest places, a shadow always lurks.

“Once upon a time,” Seven began dramatically, “there was a boy. He lived in the palace of Ixtethar.” Xe always had fun scaring the latest batch of children with the most ubiquitous legend in Velleity. 

“The boy, Nesh, possessed a great gift. He was a shapeshifter.” Seven paused to allow the awed gasps to die down. Magic was far from uncommon in Velleity, but a shapeshifter was a rarity indeed. Although shapeshifters were extremely powerful, they also had a great danger to beware. They could become whatever or whoever they touched, but they also tended to take on traits of the thing or person they became. If they shifted into the form of an evil genius, they might get extra intelligence, or they might take on some skewed morals. Shapeshifters could even assimilate magical traits into themselves.

“But he misused his gift. Nesh was envious of the royal court and their power to control the whole kingdom, so he began his search for the most powerful mages in Ixtethar. He found more than a hundred, and each time, he shifted into them so he could steal their magic.” Seven’s audience appeared properly rapt as xe spoke. 

“After gaining enough power, he slaughtered the royal family and the highest ranking courtiers. In his quest for power, Nesh’s mind became corrupted. He was evil.” Caught up in the story, the children in the room it the library didn’t notice Seven’s colleague, Elixir, as she sneaked up to the light switch.

“And then,” Seven paused for emphasis, “he disappeared!” Elixir flicked off the lights. All the children screamed. “To this day, no one knows where he is or what he is planning. The end.” Seven grinned. Xe loved scaring the kids. The kids liked it too, or they wouldn’t have signed up for the event. Turning the lights back on, Elixir laughed.

“Okay, story time is over! Your parents are waiting in the cafeteria! Have a nice day,” she dismissed.

Around six in the evening, after Seven and Elixir closed up the library, the two friends decided to get takeout for dinner. After bringing the Styrofoam containers to Seven’s gloomy flat, they lounged on the couch, watching the news and devouring the food. “Look! More sightings of ‘shadow beasts’!” Elixir said, making fun of the current news story.

“I know! Honestly, people are so paranoid,” Seven responded, stuffing more noodles into xyr mouth.

This isn't supposed to be a short story, but right now it's short. I really need feedback!

 

S.M.S.E

Prologue

The whole thing started on Friday 13th, August. It was a typical evening. Mia had come over for a sleepover. Our parents were still chatting upstairs. Mia’s parents were supposed to have left about an hour ago. Mia and I were watching a movie in my basement.

We were about half-way into the movie when the screen became red static. We tried to turn it off, but the remote didn’t work. We tried to get up, but we couldn’t. It was as if we were glued to the couch.

The TV began to say a message. We couldn’t understand any of the message except for this: “Must find him before he-” We couldn’t understand anything else. At last, we could move. We ran upstairs into the living room.

Our parents were asleep. The clock’s hands were covered in slime now. The painting was replaced by a mirror. There was an empty jar on the table. I saw something in the mirror. I saw a man for a moment before he disappeared. We heard footsteps upstairs. 

I knew we had to do something, so I decided to smash the clock. What else would I do? It was freaking me out. I grabbed a book from our coffee table and threw it at the clock. Just for a moment, time seemed to turn back.

The clock shattered. The slime on the clock now covered our walls. Everything stopped moving except for us.

“Let’s collect the slime. It could be useful,” said Mia.

“Did you hear a laugh upstairs?” I asked.

“Umm, I don’t think so...,” said Mia.

We collected the blood then ran upstairs.

We ran into my room and looked in the mirror. I saw the man again.

“Who are you?” I asked, not really wanting the answer.

The man then disappeared. We heard footsteps downstairs. We followed the footsteps into the garage. We never saw the man on our way to the garage.

When we entered the garage, I grabbed a crowbar from our tool shelf. Mia grabbed a sledgehammer. The man suddenly appeared in front of us. We both hit him at the same time. He became a shattered mirror.

Suddenly, we returned to my basement. The movie was playing. Our parents were talking upstairs. Everything had returned to what would have been normal, except we still remembered what happened, and the Mirror Man’s pieces were still on the floor of my garage. We collected his pieces and locked him and the slime in a box.

Chapter One

Samantha’s P.O.V.

Mia had come over for a sleepover. We were in the kitchen, talking. It was midnight. My parents were asleep and Mia’s parents had gone home.

We were talking about video games when Mia said, “Hey! The moon is red!”

I looked at the moon, and it was red. Blood red.

“We should check it out,” I said.

“I would say no, but I think if we don’t check it out, something really bad will happen,” said Mia.

“Me too,” I said.

We went over to the swings and sat down. Mia stared at the moon, but I was looking elsewhere.

“Mia,” I whispered.

“What?” Mia whispered back.

“The fog. It’s going to surround us. Let’s go back inside,” I said.

“Umm, I don’t think we can,” said Mia. “I already tried to stand up.”

I tried to stand up as well, but failed. The fog slowly covered us. We could see each other. The moon was right above us.

Suddenly, I could feel something watching us.

“Do you feel that?” I asked Mia.

“Yeah.”

I tried to stand up. It worked.

“We are free now. Let’s g-” I started to say.

“What?” asked Mia.

“I can see something. It’s black. And moving towards us,” I said. “I’m going to run.”

“Wait!” said Mia.

Nevertheless, I was already running. I had no clue where though, because I couldn’t see anything but the moon. I ran into the street and saw another jar. I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around and saw Mia.

“OK. We should be fi-. What’s that jar doing here?” asked Mia.

“I have no clue. I think we are going to need this,” I said.

 

Then I felt something land on my face. It was the color of blood. We looked up and saw it start to rain. I saw the moon. The rain was falling into the clouds then falling on us. I opened the jar and set it on the ground. Once it was full, I put the lid back on it and we ran inside.

 

By now, we were soaked with the rain. I grabbed some towels we dried ourselves off. We then changed clothes and put our soaked clothes into the dryer.

“Let’s use your microscope and study this weird rain,” said Mia.

“Good idea,” I said. “We can also study the Mirror Man and the slime.”

We went into the den and got the microscope out.

“Mia, can you get the box from the attic?” I asked Mia.

“Sure.”

Mia’s

P.O.V.

I went into the attic and looked for the box with Mirror Man and the clock slime. I finally found the box, but I could tell something was wrong. The lock was broken, and the box was empty. I went back downstairs and said, “Hey Samantha! Look what happened!”

“Oh no! What happened to the box? Wait! What happened to the contents?” Samantha asked.

I told her what I knew, which wasn’t much.

“Can you check the attic to see if someone moved them or something?” Samantha asked.

“Sure,” I said.

I searched all over for it. I did eventually find this book called S.M.S.E FUTURE. It was weird. I took it downstairs and showed Samantha.

“Mia! You weren’t supposed to be reading! You were supposed to be searching! Wait. S.M.S.E? Those are our initials. However, who’s the other S? Also, the E? DO you think it has to do with our friends? Do you think it’s a coincidence?” Samantha said.

“First of all, I wasn’t reading,” I said. “I was looking in the attic and I just found it. Second, it probably isn’t a coincidence, because the book is blank.”

“Blank?” asked Samantha.

“Yeah! See?” I said as I showed Samantha the book.

“Hmmm,” said Samantha. “Give it to me for a sec.”

I gave it to her and she wrote something in it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Look.”

Inside the book, she had written:  Hello.

Then something appeared under it: Hello.

You will probably need us later.

I replied: Us? Who are you? Do you know who the other S is? In addition, who the E is?

The book said: We can’t tell you now. You must wait.

“Fine,” Samantha sighed. “We’ll wait.”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“What else can we do?”

 

Samantha’s P.O.V.

We studied the rain and found out nothing. We went to sleep after cleaning up.

I wanted to tell someone what had happened. I decided to call Emma, then Sarah.

When I talked to Emma, she said that everything had been normal around her house. Sarah said that the stuff with the TV happened, and her parents fell asleep, but soon, it had gone back to normal.

I went downstairs to talk to Mia. I told her about my phone calls and we discussed the Mirror Man.

I heard something upstairs. It was footsteps. Heavy, loud footsteps.

Like the Mirror Man’s footsteps. I stared at the ceiling. My parents were out walking and my siblings weren’t home, so who else could it be?

We slowly crept up the stairs. Our painting above the bookshelf was now a mirror. On my door, in some, weird reflective liquid, this message was printed on my door:

First You Destroyed Me...

It was clear that there was more to this message. We slowly opened my door and looked inside. No one was there. We walked in to my room and looked around. Mia closed my door.

“Hey Sam...” she said.

“What?” I answered.

“I found the rest of the message...” Mia replied. She was right. On the back of my door, there was another message made out of reflective letters. It said:

Now I’ll Destroy BOTH You.

Then I knew it was the Mirror Man. whom else had we destroyed? No one. It all made sense now. The clock’s slime and the Mirror Man must have been combined somehow to recreate him. However, would we now have to kill him, instead of destroy him? The though made me shudder. I told Mia all of this, and said (somehow not surprising me, though it should have) that she had thought the exact same thing.

Sarah’s P.O.V

I lied to Samantha.

The message wasn’t the only thing that had happened. I had seen shadow people in the corners of my eyes, barely catching them in the mirror, or a corner at night. They never did anything, just skulked around. I asked Mom to go to Samantha’s house. She took me and dropped me off.

“Hey! Come on in. We need to show you something,” said Samantha.

“What?” I asked.

“Just come! Emma’s already here. We’re just waiting for you,” Sam said as she waved me in.

I came in and we walked upstairs. I noticed a mirror where the painting normally was. I asked about it, and they just shrugged. They showed me the messages and told me what had happened so far, but in much more detail. Emma carefully listened. I was listening to someone else.

“Hey guys...” I said, glancing up at the ceiling.

“What?” said Sam.

“Look up,” I said.

They all looked up. On the ceiling there was a message. It read: They are listening.

We all looked around. Samantha screamed suddenly.

“What? What?” We all asked.

“Th-there was a mouse. I hate mice,” Sam said.

“Mice! The mice are listening!” I exclaimed.

“Oh no...” groaned Sam.

“Where are mice usually?” I asked Sam.

“The attic...” She said.

“Have you gone up there?” I asked.

“Yeah. Weren’t you listening? We went up there to study the rain,” said Mia.

We all ran to the opening where you go into the attic. It was closed. And locked.

“Huh? But there isn’t a key for it! There isn’t even a lock!” said Sam.

“Let me try,” said Mia.

She pushed really hard and in came open. I stuck my head up and saw, things covering the walls. Actually, they were drawings covering the walls. I saw a mouse caught in a mouse trap.

“Do you have more mouse traps?” Emma asked.

“Yup, here,” Sam said, handing some up.

We placed them in a pattern. Suddenly, something tapped me on the shoulder. I screamed and whirled around just to find Emma standing there.

“What?!” asked Sam.

“Sorry, Emma startled me,” I said.

“Good. Now let’s go back down,” said Sam. 

I actually submitted this to a Cricket writing contest once! Now that I read it I realize it is a bit, um, far fetched. Anyways, here it is:

I look into the girl's eyes. They are eerily familiar. All of the sudden, I flash back to long ago. I am staring into those same eyes, but as a baby, crying. Someone is pulling her away. 

I quickly bring myself back to present. Ever since this horrid war started, I have been realizing more about, well, everything, then I ever wanted to know. Sure, I knew there were evil people, but I thought at least most of us were like Cyprus the great, fair and good. Then, it wouldn't matter if Sparta had more power. Maybe no one would even want more power!

But, I need to get this girl, whoever she may be, to safety. I don't care if she is spartan. I don't care if she is the king's daughter. Every life should count as much as the next. So I lie my water jug on the floor, and carry her away, past all the wounded soldiers. I can't take care of her here, or I would be dawned a traitor. So I run, and soon I am  away from  the sound of the battle. I lie her on the beach, and now I wish I had kept my fresh water. But I hadn't been schooled for nothing.  I slowly nurse her back to health. I tell her my ideas of the world by day, and stories of my city by night. 

On the 5th day, she opens her eyes and smiles. "Thank you so much. I thought I would die out there." I wave the thought away with my hand. "Your thought proves wrong. What's your name?" She smiles even wider. "Victoria. It means Victory in Latin. My father is a trader, and a good one. He made it all the way to Rome, where he met my mother. " Her face falls. "But I wish everything would be peaceful, and I could hear you agree." "Yes, well…" I realize I have no excuse, I just wanted her to hear. "Maybe there is something we can do," she exclaimes, breaking me out of my train of thought."We could write them a letter. It wouldn't be much, but what else could we do out on this barren island?" She chuckles. "Huh", I say, "But, well, how would we write?". "Don't you Athenians carry paper and ink around with you everywhere you go? Well, we have our chitons, we could stretch them out and write on them" "Yes!" I exclaim! "And we could make an ink with this grass here!"

So, we write a letter to the kings, each of us contributing a little of our chiton, and I figure out how to make a makeshift pen for our makeshift ink. We travel to a nearby village, and send the letters with two traders to their respective cities. Then, we rest. One day, a merchant annonces to the town that the king of Athens and Sparta are to come here to discuss a peace agreement. And here they come. Along with them comes my father, who offers to bring Victoria home. As we board the ship, my father pauses and takes me aside. "I never wanted to tell you this," he says. "I wanted to keep between me and that trader and keep living life. But that girl, Victoria? She's your twin sister."

 

So this isn't a short story, but its the prologue. Feedback please! Note: this is located in a seperate world I made up with my friend, so... sorry if you don't understand some of the words or references. This is not a world of humans.

 

A herd of taen stampeded across the jungle. They ran past bushes, through vines, under trees. They ran over the entrance to a tomb, over the evil hidden within. They rushed away quickly, but the damage was done. 

Far beneath the damaged entrance, a rock fell onto a sleeping form. The monster awakened. Stretched. Red eyes glowed. The ancient magic that surrounded the monster slowly swirled around. The demon was awake.

It briefly contemplated breaking out, eating the taen. It could use the food, after so many years locked away.

No. It would bide its time. Wait for its plan to be in motion. Wait for the angels to be at its mercy. Wait for revenge.

And so, it settled down to wait.

 

Only once. Only once did it let itself break its silent pact. Only once did it let itself out. Only once, when its hunger overcame itself, did it let itself eat some prey—two party penguins by the names of Myrtle and Ben.

 

One year later (in story terms, not in writing terms):

“Come on, Amber! The guests are here,” called a penguin wearing a matching purple bow-tie and party hat.

“Coming!” said another penguin, poking her head out. She was festooned in a large green party hat with bright orange fringe. “I won’t be late.”

“But, Amber—”

“I know, I know. Keep your hat on, Sage.” She tweaked her hat one more time, and, with one last look in the mirror, followed her mate outside.

The entire treehouse, and much of the surrounding tree, was swathed in purple and green balloons. Flags and banners covered the door and windows, while a table filled with refreshments covered the rest of the wooden dwelling.

“Only a third of Penguin Resort came,” said Sage apologetically. “It’s not great, but it’s Calvin’s birthday celebration today, and you know the parties he throws. I think Roland has a party today too. We did get some non-penguin gests, though,” he said, eyeing the lumiquan family chatting with a sherllsae and a zelakazoomy.

“Well, there’s nothing to do now. We’ll just have to go with it,” sighed Amber. “I was hoping for at least half, but I hadn’t counted on Roland. Oh well.”

So saying, she took the ampliphone, a piece of wood carved into a hollow cone with the top cut off. Speaking into it, she said, “Welcome to the third anniversary of the wedding of Sage and I! I thank you for coming, and I hope you enjoy yourselves. Now, to business. While we did say no presents, I see many — or all — of you brought some. They go over there by the window. Put them on the roof if there’s no more space. The refreshments are on the table over there. They consist of pizza, with toppings of synthetic pepperoni, pesto, or plain cheese. We also have vegetables roasted by dragon-fire. There is additionally ice, sugar cane, and the usual assortment of food. Shashysnix is at the very end of the table, along with some snoxberries. Now. Let’s Party!”

She bowed once, acknowledging the applause, then handed back the ampliphone and stepped away, her mate following her as she made a beeline for the food.

“Short and sweet. That’s how I like speeches. Sage, now, he’d have gone on and on forever, this and that, yada yada yada,” said a penguin as Amber passed by.

“Thanks, Mike. I see you’re as easily bored as ever,” replied Amber, laughing as Sage huffed in annoyance.

She continued, stopping to talk a few more times.

“Happy third anniversary! I like your hat,” said another penguin.

“Thanks.”

“Is there anything fun to do here?” complained a very small penguin child to his friend, blushing as he realized Amber had overheard.

“The trampoline is down there,” said Amber kindly, smiling as they thanked her and ran off, racing each other to the trampoline.

“I wish we had kids like that,” said Amber to Sage as they reached the food.

“Hmm,” was Sage’s only response as he busily piled his plate with pizza and drizzled his ice with sugar cane.

They mingled with the crowd, hearing this and that.

“Stylish party, this,” said a very uppity-looking penguin.

“Try those vegetables, they’re heavenly!” remarked a penguin hovering around the food.

“Nice bow-tie. Very, erm, professional,” said one penguin to another, plainly trying not to laugh.

“Mommy! Is there a trampoline around here?” asked a child in a lopsided blue and yellow hat.

Then Amber noticed a group of penguins whispering together. Grouped slightly away from the rest of the happy gathering, they were talking in lowered voices and shooting furtive looks at one another.

She beckoned Sage over, trying to listen in on their conversation.

“I heard they’re gone. Left,” she heard.

“They already were gone. They went to explore, right? They wanted to map the uncharted land past the rift.”

Sage froze, listening more intently.

“No, I mean gone. Dead, maybe. Who knows? I heard they left children. ‘Griffin,’ was his name. A girl, too. ‘Falcon’ or something.”

“After some human animals? Weird.”

“They always were strange.”

Sage pulled Amber away. “Do you think they’re talking about Myrtle and Ben?” he asked Amber softly.

“I-I don’t know,” she whispered back. “No. They can’t be. Ben and Myrtle don’t have kids.” She tried to banish the thought from her mind. “Don’t worry At least until after the party. We can talk later,” she told Sage, shooting him one more glance over her shoulder as she walked away.

Sage stared at the whisperers for a minute, but they had shifted to talking about something else. Then, shaking his flippers as if coming awake, he turned slowly back to the food.

Won’t think about them, he told himself firmly.

Myrtle… Ben… his mind whispered traitorously. 

No. He would not, could not, think about them. He would be happy, as long as the party lasted. Slipping back into the crowd, Sage tried his best.

 

⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻

Anyone interesed in a prolouge? Here is one from a story I'm working on, Thirteen Strangers. And yes, I know some of the later names are strange (the reason why is revealed later in the story), so I apologize if that section is confusing. 

It was a gray and dreary day when Wilson received his 6th letter from Pressy. It was delivered by a pigeon, which Wilson perceived as utterly ridiculous. Pressy was always going over the top, and most of the time it was over the top dumb. Still, it was better not to criticize Pressy. They'd just send another pigeon, one with a speared beak cover and spurred claw bird-shoes to attack Wilson. Wilson rubbed the scar on the back of his neck. They'd done it before. Stupid pigeon.

Wilson trudged to the mailbox over wet late morning grass, the tips of his boots becoming damp with dew. It was rarely still this wet at 10:00 in the morning, but the cloud clover was preventing the water from evaporating and causing the water to wet his boots. He'd have to clean them once he got back inside. The carrier pigeon continued glaring at him from the post of his mailbox though, so no time to think about how dirty his boots would be. Even the apparently subdued birds were often innerly angry. 

As he reached the mailbox, he reached into his pockets and put on his bird handling gloves. Then, slowly, he reached out to the bird and offered a bit of leftover meat from last night's dinner. The pigeon fell for the bait, and so Wilson went for the rolled up message on it's left leg. He uncapped the miniscule container, and pulled out a tightly wound paper. Yes, it was Pressy alright. They're signature was stamped on the close of the letter, in its whole overly-curlicued glory. Wilson recapped the message container, and retracted the hand with the meat away from the pigeon. 

The pigeon didn't move. Wilson shooed it away, and it still didn't move. It seemed to glare at him. Wilson glared back. 

"So that's how it's going to be, little birdy?" He announced to the pigeon. He didn't like this fellow, as he didn't really like any bird fellow. He would be happy to beat it in a staring contest. The pigeon squawked at him, seeming to agree, it's red eyes staring into Wilson's. It went on like this for a good two minutes, until the bird finally looked away. 

"YES!" Wilson exclaimed, jumping into the air. Then, a door back at the hotel opened, and loyal A.R. stuck his head out and yelled. 

"Wilson, what are you doing?" He asked. "Don't tell me you're arguing with the pigeon again." 

Wilson blushed. Nothing like having his staff catch him fighting with a bird. Again. And this one didn't even talk back to him. A.R laughed lightly, and signaled for Wilson to come back in. Wilson swatted at the bird once more, and then headed back in, letter in hand. 

"What's it say this time, Wils?" A.R. said, edging his head to look at the letter. 

"Patience, Ar, I haven't opened it yet." Wilson responded. Even if A.R. (and everyone called him Ar, because it sounded much better than A.R.) and all the rest; L.N. (pronounced and called Lyn) and E.R. (pronounced and called Ere) too; were technically his staff, they were like family to each other. It had been just the four of them in the hotel for such a long time, they seemed like they had known each other their entire life. 

"Well open it then!" Ar shouted, bouncing on the heels of his feet.

"Ooh, open what?" 

That was Ere, of course. He was always a little behind Ar when it came to reaching the door. Most usually it was because he was on his computer, researching something or another. That also meant he was very curious. About everything. 

"The letter from Pressy," Wilson responded, flashing the letter toward Ere. 

"Another?" He asked, rolling his eyes at the mere presence of the elaborate stamp. 

"Yep."

"You know what this means, then." He said. Wilson tilted his head in response. Ar turned and made eye contact with Ere, and they both grinned. Oh. Now Wilson knew what they were doing. 

"LYN!!!" They hollered in synchronism. "Letter from Pressy!" 

After a few moments of waiting, Lyn turned up at the doorway, grumpily glaring at Ar and Ere. 

"You two could be quieter, " She said. Then, she turned her attention to Wilson. 

"Are they telling the truth?" 

"Awe, you doubt we tell the truth?" Ar questioned. Lyn ignored him, and continued looking at Wilson. 

"Yes," Wilson answered. "We were waiting for you to open it." 

"Oh how kind." She said, half heartedly. Wilson could tell she had been really into her book this time. She was never happy when anyone interrupted her reading. Wilson set to opening the letter, anyhow. 

This one was longer than usual. It went on for multiple paragraphs, and contained some sort of list in between them. Wilson figured it would be the boring usual business report or job proposal, but as he read he realized it was not that. It was definitely not that. As he continued, his eyes became wide. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he did know that this letter was something that would change his life. Change all of their lives. 

The other three finished reading the letter before Wilson, and they were all staring at him when he finished. 

"So?" Ere asked. "What are you thinking?" 

Wilson grinned. "I'm thinking," He started. "I'm thinking we are in for a very interesting next few weeks."