3/10 - 429 words
“I want to believe there's something left for me, a new discovery waiting for me”

Colored light dappled the cobbled streets of the cluttered town, beaming down from the windows and storefronts of miscellaneous buildings, stacked up on the sides of sidewalks. Wherever you wanted to perch your eyes, there was something to look at. A man selling turnips, aging face smiling while he spoke with his customers, sacks of produce slumped against the wooden stall. You can see little specks of dirt, plastered to the canvas, they’re fresh, just as the seller claims.
To your left there is a bench, well, another bench, you’re already sitting on one. A mother and her child seem to be discussing something over ice cream, strawberry ice cream. You can hear the child’s voice, pitching up and down while they exclaim over their newest discovery, face covered in pink sugar. The woman is smiling, though behind her joy seems to be a bit of a grimace. This is going to be awful to clean up later.
You hear a loud humming, which evolves into a rumble, and then a proper growl. A motorcycle speeds by you, going far beyond the speed limit. Your focus has been shattered from the familiar moment beside you, and now that the hooligan on the bike is gone you’re looking straight ahead at a bookstore. The Lionbrary. Books of all shapes, sizes, and colors are displayed in the windows, creating a clutter that’s rather attractive. You squint your eyes to try and read the titles, but find that an orange book has begun to move. Wait— that’s a cat! An orange tabby, who’d previously been sitting still, lounging among volumes of literature, has begun to stretch, basking in the sunlight that is streaming through the windows. His name, is Rusty.
Upon further inspection of the bookstore, via signs on the front door, you find out that the Lionbrary functions similarly to a cat cafe, but with books instead of caffeine. This idea seems to be pleasing to many people, given the crowds inside. You decide to venture further in and are greeted by a cheerful tinkling of a bell. On the wall there are posters of the cats, each photo look as through it was taken professionally. In the posters are their names, ages, and genders. Bilbo, Samwise, Joost, Nikolai, Tori, Glerk, and many more. You suspect that you could spend hours in here, reading the book titles, playing with the cats. You can see Samwise and Bilbo now, playing with each other. There’s a chair open, wooden and comfortable. Perhaps this will be a good place to settle down, for now.

March 10 Daily

7 hrs - 500 words

Based on a picture of a pegasus toy I found online

After five years and no hint of anything magical whatsoever, Galve’s horse now had wings. Because of course it did.
When had it ever had wings before? The answer was never. Silva had belonged to their ranch for her entire life, and never once had there been a single feather. No, there had been no prelude to the events of that morning, when Galve had woken up to check on the horses only to find Silva galloping from the stable, a pair of lavender wings having sprouted from her back.
“Silva!” he yelled. “Come back here!”
The horse - pegasus? - decidedly did not come back. Soaring through the air, she crested a hill and was gone.
Galve sighed. Whatever had happened to Silva, he refused to lose a perfectly good horse. His favorite horse.
He headed back to the ranch to turn on the car.

Calling the dirt path that crisscrossed the countryside near Galve’s house a road would be an insult to roads. It was covered in random rocks and sinkholes, it often made switchbacks and sharp turns for no reason whatsoever, and as if all that wasn’t enough, it was perpetually muddy. Five minutes into the drive, Galve abandoned the “road” for the rough land beyond it and immediately began moving twice as fast.
This is what I know, he kept telling himself. Silva somehow grew wings. She escaped from the stable this morning. She went in this direction.
He squinted at his compass. Vaguely.
It took half an hour of zigzagging across the landscape before he finally found Silva, grazing in a meadow.
After two deep breaths - one to express his relief and one to calm down the nerves that had suddenly been sent buzzing in fear - he entered the field.

Silva had no idea how she’d grown wings. Her closest guess was that the universe had somehow granted her long-ago wish from fillyhood to be like the birds that circled above, glossy feathers gleaming in the sunlight. All she knew was that she had just been minding her own business until pain had suddenly exploded in her back. Driven by primal instinct, she’d broken down the stable door and galloped into the field beyond, whinnying and trying to escape the pain in her back that was growing by the second.
That was until she’d hurled herself off a hill in her panic, and wings had snapped out to stop her fall.
Wings. Somehow, impossibly, she’d grown wings.
Fear quickly changed to joy, even as agony blazed in her shoulders, as she flew - flew - through the air, skimming the ground but never landing. She was like a bird. She could freaking fly. And she was never giving this up.
Eventually, though, the pain overcame her and she had to land. And so she’d touched down in a meadow where the grass looked quite juicy and fresh.
She’d only been grazing for a few minutes when her master arrived.

When Galve finally stepped forward, his stride was slow and reverent. Silva’s new wings made her mythical, and what was mythical was to be respected above all else.
“So,” he said, rubbing his hands on his pants, “I want you to come back.”
That was the moment that Galve discovered that horses can, in fact, look judgmentally at people.
“I really like you,” he went on, knowing exactly how lame his words must sound. “You’ve been a loyal horse for many years, and I don’t want this to change anything between us.”
Galve paused, half expecting a response, because he was talking to a freaking flying horse and how was this day supposed to get any weirder?
When Silva only snorted, Galve decided to go on. “You’d be able to fly, of course, what’s the point of having wings if you can’t use them, and . . . you’re the best horse I’ve ever had.”
The words went unspoken between them. And I don’t want to lose you.
They stood frozen for what seemed like forever, silhouetted against the sunrise. The man and the pegasus, magic, eternally suspended in the dawn’s light.
Finally, Silva snorted and took a few steps toward home.
“You’ll really come with me?”
Silva gave him a you really doubted me? look.
“T-thank you.” What a babbling mess he had become. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

(718 words - way more than I needed but I was having fun lol)

daily that i am too lazy to format, 335 words (9 hours of sleep)

Ah, how to describe this glorious image: a cat, most majestic of beasts, clothed in a brownish grayish slightly yellowish pelt with darker brownish grayish but not slightly yellowish stripes. It stares at you with round green eyes the color of lake water (the scummy kind with unspecified, uncertain, and possibly very, very dead lumps of garbage floating in it), its white whiskers giving it a wise and aged appearance. Its nose is small and dark pink, perfect for sticking into a human’s face.
It sits on the table, one foreleg extended, and underneath its small and dainty paw is a twenty dollar bill in desaturated greens with a picture of the white house on it. So patriotic. So American. It only needs an eagle, a flag, and a McDonald's somewhere to complete its compelling picture of the nation.
The cat is sitting on a gray and cluttered table, countertop, or desk - it is impossible to tell which of the three it is. The other forepaw rests on a thick book with an indistinguishable cover; in the background is a computer with a few pens and blue slips of paper scattered around it (perhaps a desk, then). Behind that is a wall with what appears to be a framed paper or document of something or other hung on it. Behind the frame is a pastel blue wall.
Finally, there are some squiggles decorating the photo that were obviously edited in later (if they weren’t, I’d like to know how the photographer got them there). They are white in color and in a blocky font, with no flourishes and few curves. They are outlined in black, although the picture is badly pixelated. It’s a good thing the letters are as big as they are, or they would be impossible to read. They spell “You want cuddles on demand? Here’s 20 dollars, buy a dog.” This would appear to be some kind of snarky commentary on a cat’s nature and a dog’s apparent lack of this nature.

yes. i described a meme. aren't you proud of me?

♫ 10 - 140/100 words - a picture is worth a thousand words ♫
slept for 12 hours (10pm-11am, minus an hour for daylight savings): 1200 - (12*100) = 0, so i'll be writing at least 100 words <3
image can be found here

the fire healer sat in a tranquil forest, her thick, pink robe providing her warmth, along with the bright flames coming from her palms. she looked down at them curiously, new ideas and future experiments racing through her mind as she reflected on her unique power. she soaked up the nice feeling of being in silence for as long as she could, knowing that a desperate villager and their injured friend would come tramping through the trees begging for her help soon enough. it wasn't often she had time for herself, and this change, however short, put her at ease. just as the fire healer had predicted, it was only another half hour before a group of pleading travelers came to her in hopes that she could save their guide, and with a nod, she stood to offer her service.

The Scream

When you think of Famous paintings you might think of Starry Night or Mona Lisa or Girl with a Pearl Earring but today I’m here to talk about the painting “Scream” by Edvard Munch. Some people look at paintings and think “Oh this is beautiful!” but they never understand the true meaning. That’s why today, I, the Sage will be writing a story from what I might think his day was like (specifically the moment in the painting ;D)

Many thoughts flashed through my mind. Over and over again. My mother and sister, my only supporters, dying of tuberculosis. My father’s disapproving statements turned into shouting-yelling- screaming in my head. Father used to tell me, “Art is just an unholy trade!” and spout other insults. The neighbors always sent bitter letters to tear me down but I stood strong as their insults began to weigh down on me until now. This is where I break. This is where it shatters. The blood red clouds called out for death and blood. Everything in the air and all the colors shrieked in agony. The thoughts pushed and pushed, applying all the pressure. Then, everything shattered like a broken mirror. My life was nothing but pain. Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life. I wanted to let it all go. I needed to. So I screamed.

~239 words

(I slept for eleven hours )

It's long been believed that one day, our souls will rise from the earth and travel through the great ocean of space, all the way to the stars themselves. What few realize is that we can already do this. Some of us do it every day. Others have all but forgotten how.
The land of dreams is built from all we've seen and been through, all we've collected throughout our lives. The places we've journeyed and the people we've met; the stories we've been told and the ones we've told to others. In our memories and our imaginations, we are not tied down to our flimsy, ephemeral bodies. We are not confined to a specific place and time. We can go anywhere, anywhen, be anybody. All we have to do is think.
Now, there's a girl who hasn't been to many places or met many people, but she's read a thousand books. In her dreams, she stands upon towers and towers of them, stretching out to every horizon.
There's a dog who lives among these piles of literature, not quite real and not quite imaginary. He never barks or whines or makes any noise at all. But he comes to the girl whenever she drifts off into thought, ready to guide her wherever she wants to go. He ripples in the wind, a little ghostly, a banner of dark ribbons trailing behind him instead of a tail. His wolfish face is intelligent, aware. The girl loves him dearly.
On a deep and starry night, the girl finds herself drifting off into the land of imagination. She is wearing a short pink dress and white leggings, plus the teal scarf her mother gave her for her 9th birthday. The books are firm beneath her feet. Despite being stacked precariously, they never fall over when she climbs them. She pulls herself up to the top of a tower and gazes up at the vast, twinkling sea above her.
It is breathtaking. Pinks and purples and blues and even traces of orange tinge the sky as it glitters with stars, so crisp and clear that the girl feels like she could reach up and touch them.
The dog appears at her side. She didn't notice him arrive, for his paw steps were as silent as the books. Balancing himself across two stacks, he nudges her leg with his long snout, and she reaches out her right hand to smooth his thick, gray fur. His ribbons billow behind him in an invisible current.
Together, the girl and the dog stand upon the land of books, looking to the stars. “Watch,” says the girl, lifting her left hand to the sky, her right still buried in the ruff of fur on the back of the dog's neck. The dog looks up.
With her finger, the girl traces lines between the stars, mapping out an image no one else but her and the dog can see. A whale. A blue whale, majestic and wise, swimming through the cosmos. “That's what I'd like to be someday,” the girl decides. “I want to be a space whale.”
And in her mind, she is already there, mighty flippers steering her through the night, the dog like a comet at her side.

Word War
word count - 278

As the storm came along I could see the fire erupting from below. The volcanoes had just been set off and the trees nearby were burning to ashes. Smoke was flooding the region and everyone had already evacuated. There was nothing more to lose… all hope was already broken. My parents were gone, brother fled, I had no one left to take care of. I wanted my last words to be on this island as well, so at least I would be forgotten in some honourable way, I suppose. As I continued down the path to our village, I saw the desolate streets without any lights. Nobody was there, everything was gone. There was nobody left and I could never have imagined that this would happen. How could my brother- my own brother just leave? He just left and never turned back to check or even think about what would happen to us. He always only cared about himself and that really started to show in this given instance.

I soon opened the cottage doors or hut-like doors for lack of a better word and all the memories began to flood in. Tears poured down my eyes and I had no clue what to do. I grabbed the diamond amulet that lay on the ground.. it wasn't there before. Suddenly, a swirl of dust- like kind of misty substance formed and a being emerged. Well they were transparent so I guess they didn't reall emerge but you get the point. They stared at me, handing the chain, and stating that the future was to rest in minds hands. I had to do something but how was the real

♫ 04 word war - MY BANANA <3 - 229 words - loss ♫

ma handed me down the future of the world, quite literally. as i stood on top of a large pedestal in front of a crowd with, i swear, a bajillion hundred people sitting there watching me, i could feel a few beads of sweat roll down my forehead, and i quickly wiped them away with my sleeve.
“you have the biggest responsibility of any mortal now, oliver. you have the responsibility of the whole world. what you choose to do with its future it entirely up to you, you can do anything you'd like for the rest of you time carrying its future,” she told me, officially passing down the metal glowing orb to my fingertips. i let out a loud gasp as its cool surface touched my hand, i could've sworn i almost died on the spot out of utter shock, no one, spare four of my descendants before me had ever touched the future of the world, and now it was all mine. with a smirk that i tried to hide, i thought of all the cool things i could do with the world. i could be responsible, like everyone expected me to be, the reason i was trusted with the world's future, or i could case absolute destructions and have the time of my life becoming a king and a monarch with absolute control over everything

Word War
word count - 284 words

The storm clouds began to form as we trecked up the mountain. I knew that something was definitely wrong but I couldn't quite put my finger as to what it was. Somethign was happening but no one was telling me. I hated always feeling like I was being left out of thr picture for whatever reason. I was always either too young or not good enough to mentally handle “it”, whatever it means in this case. I was done an fed up at this point and all I wanted was for some change to happen. A change for the better, just this one time.

It was storming outside an this point, the raindrops falling down on our roof making huge clattering noises. It looked as if a flood was going to start - the winds were rampaging and trees were flying everywhere. Not literally but you could see that they were getting tilted on the side or even some smaller ones getting uprooted. As night fell and the new dawn broke, I was ready to get out and clear the mess. Well I wasn't really ready you see. I was more or so forced to do it in order to be a “good human being”, whatever that means. I thought to myself for a long time. Contemplating whethere or not I should actually go along with it. Afterall, no one ever told me a thing. It made no sense to always help out the family when they forgot about me when anythign important came up. Even more than that, they wouldn't have cared if I had gotten lost in the storm. I am literally the least of their problems. Regardless, I opened the doors and

Part 1:
over descriptive: The sun loomed like a tyrant in the unbroken blue sky, its relentless heat cascading down in waves that shimmered against the desolate earth. Dust swirled in lazy spirals, illuminated by the unforgiving light that refused to allow even a hint of shadow to offer reprieve. Beth’s breath hitched, audible in the oppressive silence, her chest rising and falling with the effort to maintain composure. She stepped forward, her boots crunching against the gravel—every sound amplified, echoing in the vast emptiness. She turned, her trembling hand clutching her pendant, as though its cool metal could anchor her to sanity. She trembled more, as she heard the leaves crunching.

Her voice, a strained whisper, broke the stillness: “We cannot, under any circumstances, go any further. Do you hear me?” Her plea hung in the air like a lead weight, heavy with fear.

Samuel’s jaw tightened and his tall frame cast an elongated shadow that wavered slightly in the heat haze. His voice erupted with authority, a jarring counterpoint to her barely controlled panic. “You’re letting your fear blind you!” he shouted, the words sharp and cutting through the suffocating quiet.

The forest loomed before them, ominous and unnatural. The gnarled trees bent and twisted, their branches clawing at the air like skeletal fingers. Each rustle in the underbrush felt intentional, every shadow seemed alive. Nature itself seemed poised, waiting. Behind her, her companions’ expressions betrayed a shared unease, though no one dared to speak. Every glance between them screamed louder than words.
251 words

second scene (minimal description, dismissive tone, and flat dialogue): The forest stretched out in front of them, dark and twisted, but Beth? She wasn’t impressed. Trees? Check. Shadows? Sure. Monsters? Maybe. Beth didn’t care. She stomped forward like the ground deserved to be punished, her boots crunching twigs and kicking up dirt in defiance of whatever lurked beyond. “Stop,” she barked, not sparing Samuel a glance. Her voice was clipped, brusque, final. That’s how Beth worked—short words, shorter patience. The sound echoed, but she didn’t care. Noise didn’t scare her. Silence didn’t scare her. Nothing did—not anymore.

Samuel muttered something under his breath, the sound barely audible over her relentless march. She didn’t ask him to repeat it. Didn’t need to. His complaints were as predictable as the sunrise. Words were cheap, anyway, and Beth didn’t have the time or energy to waste on them. Actions spoke louder, didn’t they? And her actions—stomping, marching, forging ahead—spoke volumes.

The forest stretched around them, its twisted trees forming crooked paths that barely seemed worth noticing. Creepy? Maybe. Dangerous? Probably. Whatever. To Beth, it was just another place to conquer, another obstacle to overcome. She wasn’t going to let a bunch of overgrown plants make her second-guess herself. The others could drag their feet and mutter all they wanted. Beth had things to do, places to be, monsters to fight. Or not fight. She didn’t really care what came next. She’d handle it when she got there.

Samuel’s grumble grew louder, and this time she shot him a glance over her shoulder, her eyebrow quirking. “Problem?” she asked flatly. He shook his head, and she turned back, unbothered.


part 2:
Mud stuck to their boots, thick an’ heavy, like it was tryin’ to pull ‘em down, drag ‘em under. Jamie squinted at the horizon, not that it did no good. Nothin’ but trees, trees, and more trees. “Y’all sure this is the right way?” they said, their voice cuttin’ through the damp, sticky air.

Toby waved ‘em off, like always. “Course it’s the right way. I done told you, I know this forest like the back’a my hand!” he said, holdin’ up his hand like it proved somethin’. Jamie rolled their eyes so hard it mighta hurt if they weren’t so mad.

“Yeah? Well, looks to me like we’re lost,” Jamie shot back. They pointed at a tree that looked suspiciously like the one they’d passed an hour ago. “That tree? We done seen that before. How’s your back’a-your-hand theory holdin’ up now, genius?”

Toby stopped dead in his tracks, starin’ at the tree like it done insulted his grandma. “That—ain’t possible,” he said, his voice real quiet-like. “This here’s a new tree. They all just…look the same.”

Jamie snorted, their breath comin’ out in little clouds. “Yeah, sure. Trees all up an’ decided to copy each other, huh? Maybe they’re laughin’ at us right now, whisperin’ to each other, ‘Lookit these fools, runnin’ round in circles!’”

And then, just as Jamie was about to keep goin’, the wind picked up. The forest started to hum, low an’ mean, like it heard ‘em. Like it didn’t take too kindly to bein’ mocked.
252 words

part 3:
Branches snapped. Feet pounded. Breath hitched. Run. That was all she could think. Run, run, don’t stop, don’t look. The woods closed in around her, the shadows stretching, clawing, dragging her back. Her heartbeat thudded loud, a drumline in her chest. Thump. Thump. Faster. Louder.

A growl echoed behind her, low, guttural, impossibly close. She tried to push harder, run faster. Her legs ached, burned, screamed for her to stop, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. No time to think, no time to breathe, no time to stop. Just motion, desperate motion. The undergrowth tore at her legs, thorns slashing her skin. Pain didn’t matter. Fear drowned it out.

The forest blurred—trees, shadows, roots, all swirling into one endless mass. She stumbled, her boot catching on a root. Her arms flailed, grasping for something, anything. She didn’t fall. Couldn’t fall. Falling meant the end.

The growl again—louder, sharper, slicing through her pounding pulse. She veered left, dodging between the trees. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, every inhale tearing at her lungs. The clearing came into view. Open space, bright moonlight. Safety. It had to be.

She ran harder, faster, her legs moving on pure instinct. She burst into the clearing, her arms pumping, her chest heaving. She turned back, her heart hammering. Nothing. No movement. Silence.

She stood frozen, scanning the tree line. The quiet wasn’t safe—it was waiting, watching. Then, it came. A snap. A crunch. Shadows shifted. The growl—low, deliberate. It stepped into the moonlight, huge, hulking, its eyes glowing. Her stomach dropped.

The clearing wasn’t safety. It was a trap.

Her mind screamed. Run, fight, move. She couldn’t. The growl came again. Closer. Too close.

She should’ve run. She knew she should’ve run. Every muscle screamed at her to move, to bolt, to flee back into the tangled mess of the forest. But she couldn’t. Her legs felt like they were stuck in the mud, frozen solid, unwilling to obey her frantic mind.

The creature stepped closer, its massive paws crunching the dry leaves beneath them. Its breath, heavy and slow, sounded like the rumble of distant thunder. The moonlight spilled over its shape—a hulking, twisted beast. Fur black as midnight. Fangs glinting like knives. Eyes blazing like twin embers.

“Move,” she whispered to herself, barely audible. Her voice wavered, weak, breaking on the single word. The beast tilted its head, as though it had heard her, as though it understood. Its growl deepened, reverberating through her chest. The earth seemed to tremble beneath it.

Out of the corner of her eye, the treeline shifted. Branches moved. Shadows danced. More. There were more. She realized it too late. This wasn’t just one trap—it was a dozen, all closing in around her. Her breath came in short gasps, rapid and shallow. Her pulse hammered in her ears.

A rustle to her right. A growl to her left. They were circling, moving in unison, tightening the noose. No escape. No chance. She reached for anything—rocks, a stick, something to hold. Her fingers touched dirt, cold and lifeless.

The first one lunged. Her scream tore through the clearing.
519 words

part 4:
The campfire crackled as the group sat in awkward silence. The flames flickered, sending weird shadows across the trees, making everything feel more creepy than it already was. Nobody was really looking at each other, but everyone could feel how tense it was. They’d been walking forever, and the whole journey was starting to feel pointless.

Jake leaned back against a log, tossing a stick into the fire. “We’re almost there,” he said, breaking the quiet. “Tomorrow, we’ll find it. The artifact. Just think about what that could mean. For, like, everyone.”

Mia rolled her eyes and jabbed the fire with her stick. “If it’s even real,” she said, her voice dripping with doubt. “It’s probably just a stupid story. We’ve been following random clues that don’t even make sense. What if it’s just…nothing?”

Jake glared at her. “It’s not nothing,” he snapped. “It’s real. It has to be.”

That’s when Kara, who had been super quiet the whole time, finally spoke up. Her voice was weirdly calm. “It’s real,” she said, not even looking at them. “But it’s not where you think it is. I took it.”

Mia blinked. “Wait. What?”

Jake jumped to his feet. “What do you mean, you took it?” His voice was shaking, but it wasn’t clear if he was more angry or confused.

“I mean it’s gone,” Kara said, like it was no big deal. She leaned back and stared at the fire. “I got there first. Before all of this. I figured you’d figure it out eventually.”

Mia’s jaw dropped. “Why wouldn’t you TELL us?! We’ve been walking for weeks!” Her voice cracked as she nearly shouted.

Jake’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. “You’re lying. You have to be lying.”

Kara shrugged, totally calm. “I’m not lying. Trust me, it’s better this way.”

The others burst into angry shouting, accusing her, questioning her. But Kara didn’t care. She just sat there, watching the fire like it was way more interesting than whatever they had to say. Finally, she muttered, almost to herself, “You wouldn’t get it, even if I explained.”
351 words

1666 words total

Part 1:
over descriptive: The sun loomed like a tyrant in the unbroken blue sky, its relentless heat cascading down in waves that shimmered against the desolate earth. Dust swirled in lazy spirals, illuminated by the unforgiving light that refused to allow even a hint of shadow to offer reprieve. Beth’s breath hitched, audible in the oppressive silence, her chest rising and falling with the effort to maintain composure. She stepped forward, her boots crunching against the gravel—every sound amplified, echoing in the vast emptiness. She turned, her trembling hand clutching her pendant, as though its cool metal could anchor her to sanity. She trembled more, as she heard the leaves crunching.

Her voice, a strained whisper, broke the stillness: “We cannot, under any circumstances, go any further. Do you hear me?” Her plea hung in the air like a lead weight, heavy with fear.

Samuel’s jaw tightened and his tall frame cast an elongated shadow that wavered slightly in the heat haze. His voice erupted with authority, a jarring counterpoint to her barely controlled panic. “You’re letting your fear blind you!” he shouted, the words sharp and cutting through the suffocating quiet.

The forest loomed before them, ominous and unnatural. The gnarled trees bent and twisted, their branches clawing at the air like skeletal fingers. Each rustle in the underbrush felt intentional, every shadow seemed alive. Nature itself seemed poised, waiting. Behind her, her companions’ expressions betrayed a shared unease, though no one dared to speak. Every glance between them screamed louder than words.
251 words

second scene (minimal description, dismissive tone, and flat dialogue): The forest stretched out in front of them, dark and twisted, but Beth? She wasn’t impressed. Trees? Check. Shadows? Sure. Monsters? Maybe. Beth didn’t care. She stomped forward like the ground deserved to be punished, her boots crunching twigs and kicking up dirt in defiance of whatever lurked beyond. “Stop,” she barked, not sparing Samuel a glance. Her voice was clipped, brusque, final. That’s how Beth worked—short words, shorter patience. The sound echoed, but she didn’t care. Noise didn’t scare her. Silence didn’t scare her. Nothing did—not anymore.

Samuel muttered something under his breath, the sound barely audible over her relentless march. She didn’t ask him to repeat it. Didn’t need to. His complaints were as predictable as the sunrise. Words were cheap, anyway, and Beth didn’t have the time or energy to waste on them. Actions spoke louder, didn’t they? And her actions—stomping, marching, forging ahead—spoke volumes.

The forest stretched around them, its twisted trees forming crooked paths that barely seemed worth noticing. Creepy? Maybe. Dangerous? Probably. Whatever. To Beth, it was just another place to conquer, another obstacle to overcome. She wasn’t going to let a bunch of overgrown plants make her second-guess herself. The others could drag their feet and mutter all they wanted. Beth had things to do, places to be, monsters to fight. Or not fight. She didn’t really care what came next. She’d handle it when she got there.

Samuel’s grumble grew louder, and this time she shot him a glance over her shoulder, her eyebrow quirking. “Problem?” she asked flatly. He shook his head, and she turned back, unbothered.


part 2:
Mud stuck to their boots, thick an’ heavy, like it was tryin’ to pull ‘em down, drag ‘em under. Jamie squinted at the horizon, not that it did no good. Nothin’ but trees, trees, and more trees. “Y’all sure this is the right way?” they said, their voice cuttin’ through the damp, sticky air.

Toby waved ‘em off, like always. “Course it’s the right way. I done told you, I know this forest like the back’a my hand!” he said, holdin’ up his hand like it proved somethin’. Jamie rolled their eyes so hard it mighta hurt if they weren’t so mad.

“Yeah? Well, looks to me like we’re lost,” Jamie shot back. They pointed at a tree that looked suspiciously like the one they’d passed an hour ago. “That tree? We done seen that before. How’s your back’a-your-hand theory holdin’ up now, genius?”

Toby stopped dead in his tracks, starin’ at the tree like it done insulted his grandma. “That—ain’t possible,” he said, his voice real quiet-like. “This here’s a new tree. They all just…look the same.”

Jamie snorted, their breath comin’ out in little clouds. “Yeah, sure. Trees all up an’ decided to copy each other, huh? Maybe they’re laughin’ at us right now, whisperin’ to each other, ‘Lookit these fools, runnin’ round in circles!’”

And then, just as Jamie was about to keep goin’, the wind picked up. The forest started to hum, low an’ mean, like it heard ‘em. Like it didn’t take too kindly to bein’ mocked.
252 words

part 3:
Branches snapped. Feet pounded. Breath hitched. Run. That was all she could think. Run, run, don’t stop, don’t look. The woods closed in around her, the shadows stretching, clawing, dragging her back. Her heartbeat thudded loud, a drumline in her chest. Thump. Thump. Faster. Louder.

A growl echoed behind her, low, guttural, impossibly close. She tried to push harder, run faster. Her legs ached, burned, screamed for her to stop, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. No time to think, no time to breathe, no time to stop. Just motion, desperate motion. The undergrowth tore at her legs, thorns slashing her skin. Pain didn’t matter. Fear drowned it out.

The forest blurred—trees, shadows, roots, all swirling into one endless mass. She stumbled, her boot catching on a root. Her arms flailed, grasping for something, anything. She didn’t fall. Couldn’t fall. Falling meant the end.

The growl again—louder, sharper, slicing through her pounding pulse. She veered left, dodging between the trees. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, every inhale tearing at her lungs. The clearing came into view. Open space, bright moonlight. Safety. It had to be.

She ran harder, faster, her legs moving on pure instinct. She burst into the clearing, her arms pumping, her chest heaving. She turned back, her heart hammering. Nothing. No movement. Silence.

She stood frozen, scanning the tree line. The quiet wasn’t safe—it was waiting, watching. Then, it came. A snap. A crunch. Shadows shifted. The growl—low, deliberate. It stepped into the moonlight, huge, hulking, its eyes glowing. Her stomach dropped.

The clearing wasn’t safety. It was a trap.

Her mind screamed. Run, fight, move. She couldn’t. The growl came again. Closer. Too close.

She should’ve run. She knew she should’ve run. Every muscle screamed at her to move, to bolt, to flee back into the tangled mess of the forest. But she couldn’t. Her legs felt like they were stuck in the mud, frozen solid, unwilling to obey her frantic mind.

The creature stepped closer, its massive paws crunching the dry leaves beneath them. Its breath, heavy and slow, sounded like the rumble of distant thunder. The moonlight spilled over its shape—a hulking, twisted beast. Fur black as midnight. Fangs glinting like knives. Eyes blazing like twin embers.

“Move,” she whispered to herself, barely audible. Her voice wavered, weak, breaking on the single word. The beast tilted its head, as though it had heard her, as though it understood. Its growl deepened, reverberating through her chest. The earth seemed to tremble beneath it.

Out of the corner of her eye, the treeline shifted. Branches moved. Shadows danced. More. There were more. She realized it too late. This wasn’t just one trap—it was a dozen, all closing in around her. Her breath came in short gasps, rapid and shallow. Her pulse hammered in her ears.

A rustle to her right. A growl to her left. They were circling, moving in unison, tightening the noose. No escape. No chance. She reached for anything—rocks, a stick, something to hold. Her fingers touched dirt, cold and lifeless.

The first one lunged. Her scream tore through the clearing.
519 words

part 4:
The campfire crackled as the group sat in awkward silence. The flames flickered, sending weird shadows across the trees, making everything feel more creepy than it already was. Nobody was really looking at each other, but everyone could feel how tense it was. They’d been walking forever, and the whole journey was starting to feel pointless.

Jake leaned back against a log, tossing a stick into the fire. “We’re almost there,” he said, breaking the quiet. “Tomorrow, we’ll find it. The artifact. Just think about what that could mean. For, like, everyone.”

Mia rolled her eyes and jabbed the fire with her stick. “If it’s even real,” she said, her voice dripping with doubt. “It’s probably just a stupid story. We’ve been following random clues that don’t even make sense. What if it’s just…nothing?”

Jake glared at her. “It’s not nothing,” he snapped. “It’s real. It has to be.”

That’s when Kara, who had been super quiet the whole time, finally spoke up. Her voice was weirdly calm. “It’s real,” she said, not even looking at them. “But it’s not where you think it is. I took it.”

Mia blinked. “Wait. What?”

Jake jumped to his feet. “What do you mean, you took it?” His voice was shaking, but it wasn’t clear if he was more angry or confused.

“I mean it’s gone,” Kara said, like it was no big deal. She leaned back and stared at the fire. “I got there first. Before all of this. I figured you’d figure it out eventually.”

Mia’s jaw dropped. “Why wouldn’t you TELL us?! We’ve been walking for weeks!” Her voice cracked as she nearly shouted.

Jake’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. “You’re lying. You have to be lying.”

Kara shrugged, totally calm. “I’m not lying. Trust me, it’s better this way.”

The others burst into angry shouting, accusing her, questioning her. But Kara didn’t care. She just sat there, watching the fire like it was way more interesting than whatever they had to say. Finally, she muttered, almost to herself, “You wouldn’t get it, even if I explained.”
351 words

total: 1666 words

March 11 Daily—Fairy Tale with a twist!
Word Count: 484
The Ugly Duckling

There once lived a duckling
Who swam in a pond;
His feathers were gray,
Not yellow and not long.
There was something about him
That didn’t belong;
So I tell you the story
Of a fairy tale gone wrong.

His body was big,
While his siblings were small.
His brothers and sisters were short,
But the Ugly Duckling was tall.

When he tried to run,
He waddled without grace;
And his brothers and sisters
Would laugh in his face.
He’d flap his wings,
With hopes he could fly.
But he’d stay on the ground,
No matter how hard he tried.

Some would say he was hopeless,
That he wouldn’t survive;
That he could only watch
While his siblings thrived.
But the clever Ugly Duckling
Had a different plan in mind;
A way to prove himself worthy
Was a way he would find!

He worked day and night,
He worked without end;
Even with the world on his shoulders,
He never gave in.
But his hopes began to dwindle
When he didn’t improve.
He couldn’t prove himself worthy;
There was nothing to prove.

Could he match his siblings?
Could he stay alive?
Could he fit in as a duckling?
Could he survive?

He asked himself those questions
As thoughts swirled in his mind.
Because one night he fell asleep
And woke to a surprise.

Today was the day
To enter adulthood;
To prove he was worthy,
To show that he could.

Today was a final test
To see if the ducklings could fly.
Would the Ugly Duckling stay on the ground,
Or would he leap and take to the sky?
Perhaps he wouldn’t succeed,
And perhaps today he would cry.
But today was his final chance
To see if he could try.

He watched his siblings
One after the other
Line up on a branch
Above the water.
He watched the them leap
He watched them fly.
The laws of gravity
He watched them defy.

But when it was the Ugly Duckling’s turn,
Is when his stomach began to churn.
Could he do it?
Could he prove it?
What if he didn’t succeed?
Could he see through it?

He lifted his wings
And jumped off to fly;
But it was then
He fell out of the sky.
But as he fell
Towards the cold pond water,
A miracle happened,
One like no other.

He faced it headfirst,
Pulled his wings into a dive;
Because maybe the Ugly Duckling
Didn't belong in the sky.

He fell ever faster;
He plummeted down.
All the other ducks
Were sure he would drown.

But he reached the water
With a little splash.
And glided through
Not slow, but fast!
He raced through the water,
Faster than the blink of an eye.
His brothers and sisters
Watched from the sky.

Perhaps the Ugly Duckling
Was not a Duckling in the end;
Maybe he was a magnificent creature,
An Emperor penguin!

Word War
Word Count: 125 (I guess you could include the o at the end? The word I was writing was “on”)
“Do you…. Really want to touch that?” I asked my dad. He was about to touch a suspicious looking mushroom. It was red with little spikes on it, and it looked like it was probably poisonous.
“Well…” he sighed. “I guess not.”
I let out a breath of relief. I didn’t realize I had been holding it. I guess I was really concerned for his life—that thing looks dangerous.
But the relief quickly ended when instead of just leaving it be, he grabbed a nearby stick and promptly poked it.
I screamed and jumped back as spores flew out of the mushroom, coating everything around it in a fine dust. Luckily my quick reaction time ensured that I wasn’t covered in spores. My dad o

Word War
word count - 273 words

The time was coming and I could feel a growing senation of guilt overcome my body. We were stuck in this cave, practically trapped, with no way out. Who knew how long would we stay in there. It was honestly all my fault. Why did I sneak away to this abandoned resort and put my best friend into danger with me- on top of all things! There was nowehere to go but ahead, I guess. And so, we did.

Through the cave we went, looking at the paintings that were etched on them. They told of horro stories that had taken place, but we left them aside, anxiously praying that none of them were actually true. We then went on to do what we did best. Problem solving. Even though the entrance somehow got locked on us, there edefinitely had to be a way or some sort of exit for us to escape. Whoever built it should've thought of that at least - it were these words that gave us comfort, but I couldn't help to think about what would happen if we were wrong. Time was ticking, and nightfall was approaching. I could hear bats flying through the tavern and it was all just beginnign to close in on me. We continued up the steep stonewell and found a black obsidian rock layer, neatly polished. I motioned towards it, trying to grab it and take a look.

My friend, however, pulled me back immediately and warne me of its potential dangers. I could honestly care less so I proceeded towards it once more, and reached out my hand. It scratched the surface of

You
(A poem made by me don’t steal thanksss)

Stick together, stay strong,
Like we’ve been doing all along
Keep your wits up, kill your pride,
Don’t bottle your emotions and shove them aside,
Respect one another, do not judge,
Don’t be rude or hold a grudge,
You’re truly perfect the way you are,
In my eyes you’re a shooting star,
Kind, caring, silly and sweet,
With you here my heart’s complete,
Don’t listen to what others say,
You’ll always brighten up my day.

DAILY - FAIRY TALES
411 words <3

Ariel swam quickly, her fins trailing behind her moving as fast as they could to escape the mens net.
She had to keep swimming. If she didn’t, she’d be put on display as a trophy for all to see. Something for them to poke and prod and use for their minds ease.

As she swam she so desperately wished that she had not gone out to save another one. Her father called it strange and told her the men were better left dead. Now she couldn’t help but wonder if he was right.

She gasped as one of her back fins got caught and she spun around to free it, resulting in getting further trapped in the net. She fought but it stuck to her and tangled into her hair and gills, ripping her skin and letting her blood float in the water around Ariel.
A mermaid trapped is something no one should have to see. And Eric thought this was incredibly wrong.
Yet he did nothing but watch as the mermaid was hauled up to the floor of the ship.
It was not as beautiful as everyone said, at least not in that manner.
She had long, red hair all around her, and fair skin that faded to scales.
But that was it, she had cruel looking fangs, many wispy and extra parts of a tail, and sharp eyes that were full of panic. Not calmness.
It was not meant to be here. Yet he continued to watch.

Ariel fought against the panels of the ship, trying to drag herself to the rails so she could escape back into the water, but the men surrounded her and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. There was no water in the ship and she couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t breathe.

Her mind faintly wondered what her father would think of her fate, what her sisters would think. If they would laugh and tell of their stupid sister, or if they would sigh and wish something had changed what would have happened.

Eric felt so conflicted, betray his men, or save the mermaid? Eventually though. He knew his heart had won. The other men kicked and laughed, till he pushed past them and shoved the mermaid overboard.
She hit the water with a splash, and he followed immediately.
Sinking into the water as he watched her breathe.
Suddenly she was beautiful. She was beautiful with her hair around her and her scales rippling under the water.
She was beautiful.
And he would be so glad she was his last sight.

Daily - FAIRY TALES
It had been years since the enchanting tale of Sleeping Beauty was told, its magic fading into the annals of history. But one fateful day, the malevolent witch Maleficent decided to upend the fabric of time itself and return to wreak havoc. With an earth-shaking BANG and a blinding burst of green and black light, Maleficent materialized in none other than Prince Charming's resplendent palace. Her wicked eyes sparkled with mischief as she surveyed her surroundings. “Oh, my word,” she cackled, “such opulent chandeliers! What wondrous glass mirrors!” Alas, these magnificent treasures of beauty stood no chance. Her dramatic arrival unleashed a pressure so tremendous that the palace's grandeur shattered into a cascade of a million poison-laced shards.

As the chaos unfurled, Prince Charming himself made his appearance, gracefully descending the marble staircase. Yet, before he could fully comprehend the destruction, thousands of ice-cold, venomous shards pierced his chest. With a strangled cry, he collapsed in a crumpled heap at the foot of the stairs. “Oopsies,” giggled Maleficent, her voice sing-song and childlike, as if mocking the calamity she'd caused. A deafening CRASH echoed through the hall, marking her abrupt and equally dramatic departure.

Moments later, the sound of galloping hooves thundered from the palace entrance, followed by a heart-wrenching cry. “Charming!” The beautiful Queen, with her golden hair shining like the sun, stormed into the hall, her emerald eyes wide with shock. “What in the BLAZES happened here?” she demanded, her voice shrill with panic. Kneeling by Charming's side, she whispered, “Charming, my love, speak to me!”

As the Queen wept, the palace butler, a pompous man with an air of authority, bellowed, “We MUST call the princess!” The atmosphere grew tense as a dazzling figure appeared, her arrival like a soft breeze after a storm. A halo of golden mist enveloped her as she floated into the wreckage. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to shine through the smoky darkness, offering a glimmer of hope amidst despair. Dressed in a flowing periwinkle-rose gown, the princess, Aurora, moved toward Charming. She bent down, placing her lips upon his in an act of life-giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Charming's eyes fluttered open, locking onto Aurora's radiant face. With trembling hands, he clutched at her golden hair as though holding on to life itself. Aurora let out a soft gasp, her breath catching. Just as his eyes began to close once more, she pressed her hand firmly against his forehead. A surge of golden light emanated from her touch, banishing the dark spirit that plagued him and filling him with warmth and goodness. As her task came to an end, Aurora dissolved into shimmering, sparkling steam—her mission fulfilled, her magic leaving behind whispers of hope and renewal.

March 11th:

The legendary fairy tales- stories of old, a riveting narrative that stands the test of time. Today, we'll be taking these magical tales and turned a revitalized twist on it! Write 400 words for 450 points (an additional 100 for proof), writing a retelling of a fairy tale. Perhaps Snow White prefers guavas over apples? Or the Big Bad Wolf is simply misunderstood? The possibilites are endless!

Author's Notes:
▸ can you tell that I'm tired
▸ this is such a goofy story but it was fun to write
▸ for any epic the musical fans reading this… imagine three billy goat gruffs but with ody, polites and eury + the cyclops. I got that idea when I was already writing so I didn't do it but IMAGINE

Little Billy Goat Gruff frowned. His stomach rumbled, begging him to eat some food. It was a request he couldn’t fulfill, since all that surrounded him were grassless plains that extended beyond the horizon.

“I need food!” he whined. “I need it right now!”

Middle Billy Goat Gruff patted his shoulder. Or, more accurately, did the goat equivalent of patting one’s shoulder. Still, despite his empathy, he knew that there wasn’t much they could do. They could travel for hours and would be greeted with the same ol’ foodless fields.

“Baa!” Big Billy Goat Gruff exclaimed. “Stop looking so sad! Use your eyes a little. Look, there’s a huge field over there!” He pointed across an oddly convenient bridge. Sure enough, endless grass laid on the other side of it, sparkling in the morning sun.

The two younger goats lit up. Finally! There was some food!

Middle Billy Goat Gruff didn’t share that joy for long, though. There was a strange figure in the distance. He squinted his eyes to get a better look. His vision was terrible, but alas, he was a goat. Goats were typically found without the modern invention of glasses.

Before Middle Billy Goat Gruff could understand what he was seeing, – or more accurately, trying to see – his younger brother sprinted across the bridge. Little Billy Goat Gruff rushed by so fast that his figure blurred.

Middle Billy Goat Gruff exclaimed, “Wait!”

It was too late. He was already on the bridge, bouncing across without a care in the world. They didn’t even get to inspect the bridge! What if it was unstable? There were tons of disastrous things that could occur, and they needed to take a risk assessment first. It was an absolute must.

It’s not like his brothers cared about that, though.

Suddenly, a figure hopped out from seemingly nowhere, shaking the entire bridge. How the bridge didn’t fall apart, the goats didn’t know. The figure was so tall and big that it could only be one thing: a troll. Middle Billy Goat Gruff suspected that it was the same figure he saw previously. But how would he know? His vision was terrible. This is not a plot point, simply a detail that was added for the sake of extra words.

“Oh no!” Little Billy Goat Gruff exclaimed. He stepped back, fear covering his eyes as he stared at the much larger figure.

“Who dares to cross this bridge? This land is mine, and mine ONLY!” the troll roared, sending vibrations through the air. “For trespassing, you shall receive a terrible consequence… living in my stomach.”

Little Billy Goat Gruff gulped.

Big Billy Goat Gruff rushed forward to his brother’s aid. He met the troll in the eyes. One could almost see the gears turning rapidly in his head. It was times like this when Middle Billy Goat Gruff was thankful for his older brother’s wit. He usually despised it, since it was used for pranks against himself. Now, though? It would possibly save their lives.

“P-please don’t eat me!” Little Billy Goat Gruff stuttered. “Eat… uh…” His eyes darted around, searching for something worthy of a replacement. His eyes met Middle Billy Goat Gruff’s for a second, but he didn’t dare to suggest that. It would be utter betrayal. His eyes eventually landed on a nearby tree. “Eat that! That really yummy tree! Yeah, definitely!”

“I’m a carnivore, you fool,” the troll scolded. “Now, that was a really sad attempt, but it doesn’t matter. You shall now live your life in my stomach!” One may believe that he was being very repetitive in his speech. The troll didn’t care, though. He was hungry, and he didn’t think straight when he was hungry.

“Troll!” Big Billy Goat Gruff said. “Please, allow me to give you a proposition. It doesn’t need to end like this. We can all be friends and live in harmony, if only you’ll let us. We are sorry for trespassing, but we are in desperate need of food. Your fields are the nearest source of food. Please us eat some so we don’t starve! Please?” He made sure to add all his stats into charisma. He just hoped that he would roll a high enough number.

The troll glared at him.

Then he burst into tears.

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so!” the troll cried. “My family… they all left to other regions in search for food… Like I said, I’m a carnivore. There is no food around. I only stayed to care for my precious fields, though I am hungry myself. I have been surviving, though. I have a high tolerance, but I can’t say the same for my beloved family. I don’t want anybody else to face the same fate as them, so please, eat up!”

It seems like the Big Billy Goat Gruff rolled a natural twenty.

Middle Billy Goat Gruff let out a sigh of relief.

The three goats all lived in harmony with the troll. They ate up and were highly satisfied. The troll’s family eventually returned, but they didn’t harm the goats since they were a part of the family now too. That especially touched the goats’ hearts, since they didn’t know where their parents were.

Who knew such an unfortunate situation could lead to so many new friends?

Word Count: 886

⭒ Daily 11/03 twisted fairy tales.. (556 words)

i decided to do sleeping beauty- except maleficent puts briar rose under the curse to protect her from her controlling family

"In the fifteenth year of her age the princess shall prick herself with a spindle and shall fall into a deep sleep."

the king and queen became obsessed with ensuring briar rose never came into contact with a spindle. she needed to grow up, so she could carry out the role of a female in a royal family. in order to ensure this, the king ordered every spindle to be burnt until they were nothing but mere ashes. as briar rose grew up, she was watched carefully, she was sweet, modest yet completely innocent, obilivious to her future. not her future of falling into a long slumber, but instead the one her parents have planned out for her.

see, maleficent knew of their plans. the plans that aimed to control briar rose- that aimed to marry her off the richest prince- one that would put her in danger. she knew briar rose would not be safe. she knew. she couldn't let the poor girl to suffer. so she simply had to save her.

soon one day, briar rose was left alone in the castle. her parents were off organising what maleficent had predicted to happen. and it was this day that briar rose decided to explore the castle. she ventured through the long halls, went into chambers and parlours till at last she arrived at a tower. one step at a time she climbed the winding cobblestone steps. it came to a door, she extended her arm out tentatively as she twisted the door knob.

there in the small room was a spindle. briar rose had no idea what it was, the eradication of such led to her cluelessness. out of curiosity briar rose took it upon herself to inspect it more. she carefully walked to it, admiring the simple craftsmenship of the object. briar rose extended her arm and pricked her finger on it. it's not like she meant too, it was almost like she needed to…

moments past and maleficent rushed through the doors. she bent down to briar rose, checking she was alright. she couldn't let anything happen to her after all. see, the king and queen had struggled have her, all the wise women lacked the gifts to grant them a child, but maleficent did have them. in some sense, she felt like briar rose was her child, she needed to protect her. so she did.

she carefully brought briar rose to her chamber and laid her down on her bed. before gently tucking her in. soon the rest of the kingdom followed briar rose into the sleep, the king and queen too. and that was that. for many years the castle and it's people laid dormant, vines grew on the walls and cracks appeared in the stone floors.

maleficent would visit often, checking briar rose was ok. and she was. maleficent was the one the watched the many princes attempt to ‘save’ briar rose, she was the one that would end up turning them away- using magic to anyway, by making vines form obstacles and by cursing them.

one day a prince showed up. he was not like the others. he was different. maleficent could sense he had goodness, he wouldn't control briar rose, he would treat her right. maleficent smiled to herself as she knew her daughter was ok.
(556 words)

back to complete list of dailies and weeklies

Write 300 words about a character making a difficult
decision that will impact their future. (+2 fragments)

One beautiful winter morning, Léo, a 13-year-old boy, heads home to have a snack and finish his homework for the next day. Léo has short, curly black hair, brown eyes, white teeth, and slightly tanned skin. When he arrives at home, he realizes that he has no food left for the evening, so he quickly heads to the nearest market to buy some, since they close at 5 p.m. The nearest one is a 45-minute walk away, so he runs there. However, after a while, he's tired from running so much and decides to take a quick break to catch his breath. The problem is that he doesn't realize he's standing on a road (yes, I know, he’s a bit blind in that moment). And what’s on a road? Cars and trucks!! (Well done). At that moment, a 12-ton truck comes speeding toward him. Léo only sees it just in time and decides to run to the right. But the big problem is that the driver is drunk!! (I have a feeling he’s going to get a fine). Somehow, Léo manages to stop the truck for two seconds with some sort of magic or power, and then it disappears! In fact, he’s been teleported to another place, to Anilostias, a different world in another dimension (URL for Anilostias and everything to understand better: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/808229/?page=13)(#250 or #249 ). A mysterious man appears, dressed in a white robe that covers his entire body. He tells Léo that he has become an Alynia, someone who can control space, a very powerful ability. But he also tells him that if he wants to keep his power, everyone will want him to accomplish their evil deeds. However, there is another solution: “You (Léo) can come with me to Anilostias, where you will be safe, protected by us. I leave the choice to you, but know that this will change your future completely, so take your time to think it over.”
A second later, Léo replies that he will follow him to his world, but first, he needs to see his family one last time. From that moment on, Léo becomes a very important person in Anilostias. He will have a new family as a father and will face many enemies, risking his life to save his dearly beloved new family, whom he loves with all his heart!
(445 words )