SHORT STORY: PLEASE LEAVE COMMENT. THANKS Nicholas James, known to everyone as Nico, stirred awake in the dim light of his bedroom. The morning sun struggled to penetrate the heavy curtains that veiled his suite in an upscale Houston high-rise. At 24, Nico was the epitome of privilege and power, a scion of the James family, steeped in old Texas wealth and political clout. His father, Conner James, was in the midst of a heated campaign for the governorship, a campaign that Nico relished as his chance to solidify his dominance over those who dared to challenge the James legacy. He turned over, grimacing as he noticed the woman sprawled next to him. Her dark hair fanned out across his pillow, and the faint scent of her perfume lingered in the air, mingling with the staleness of last night's revelries. Nico ran a hand through his tousled hair, already feeling the weight of the day's expectations pressing down on him. He reached for his phone on the nightstand and dialed a number ...
Rudy couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Two of his fellow Admirals—Froy and Lucas—had fallen, both crushed by the women they thought they could dominate. Now, it was just him. He was the last remaining Admiral, the only one standing between Silla and the destruction of the Phallus Statue. Silla stood confidently before him, her lips curled into a mocking smirk. She stopped right in front of the statue, the imposing symbol of the island’s male dominance. Her eyes gleamed as she looked up at it, as if savoring the moment before she would bring it crashing down. “Seems like my friends did a great job, Admiral Maybank,” she taunted, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Rudy gritted his teeth, the weight of his comrades' defeat heavy on his shoulders. He couldn’t let her win, not here, not now. Not in front of the Phallus Statue, the very symbol of their power. Silla chuckled as she toyed with the mace she had taken. “What do you think Gabriel would do if you let me ruin ...
The night at the North Pole was as serene as it was magical, the stars glittering like shards of ice against the velvety black sky. The air carried a crisp chill, and the glow of the Santa Wish Tunnel illuminated the surrounding snowbanks in soft, multicolored hues. Inside the tunnel, thousands of wishes danced as golden threads, swirling and whispering the hopes and dreams of children—and adults—from all over the world. Silla perched on the edge of the icy tunnel’s entrance, her gossamer wings fluttering against the cold air. Her golden hair shimmered under the light, and her tiny figure, draped in a silvery dress, sparkled as if she had been plucked from the stars themselves. Beside her sat Camila, her closest friend, a fairy with fiery red curls and an attitude to match. “Another one,” Camila huffed, stretching her legs as her amber wings drooped in exasperation. “That’s the third wish tonight about Nicholas James.” Silla tilted her head, a faint smile tugging at her lip...
Comments
Post a Comment