As we got closer to the Ogre village some of the Ogres began to approach us. "WHAT DO YA HAVE THERE DROKEN?" One of the Ogres asked my father whose name I now know. "THIS HERE BE MY SON, WHO I BE TAKING TO THE SHAMAN TO GRANT THE LAD A NAME." Hearing this I was getting a little nervous. Droken seemed to sense this. "SORRY LADS, BUT THE SHAMAN WILL WANT TO SEE THE BOI RIGHT AWAY." The Ogres moved aside when they heard this, a few of them nodding and grunting in agreement. Droken began to carry me to the large hut in the back of the cave. "DON'T YOU START FUSSING THERE BOI. THOSE LADS ARE YOUR UNCLES, AND WOULD SOONER DIE THAN HARM YOU." As he lifted me up to his shoulder, I looked back at those Ogres and saw them grinning and waving at my curious expression. I turned to look at Droken again and he glanced my way in surprise. "YER A SMART BOI HUH?" His look of surprise honestly looked so funny that I surprised myself by giggling.

In a normal-sized living room, a tiny vintage television sits atop an even tinier side table, looking comically small against the furniture. The screen is locked on its only frequency: The Train Station, broadcasting non-stop footage of locomotives. As the tubes inside warm up, shimmering "scent waves" shaped like pepperoni slices drift into the air, a permanent pizza aroma that no amount of scrubbing can erase. The programming is delightfully bizarre. On-screen graphics transition from the political steam engines of Beltway Fever Dreams to the pastoral vistas of Rails and Cows. After hours, the mood shifts to a dimly lit train car where passengers gaze longingly at heart-shaped deep dish pizzas, proving that on this tiny TV, things get truly scandalous after midnight.

What started as a typical fun day out ended with what felt like the climax of a thriller/horror movie. Sometimes the things we fear or dread the most are right under our noses and we ignore them due to the rational mind even though the twist in your stomach, intuition, and the little voices in our heads tell us differently. As humans, we all have a innate sense when something is wrong or off. It's when we choose not to listen to the one time where the head and the heart agree that things go awry. Sometimes, it's too late to avoid it and things take a wrong left turn for the worst.

The old house stood dilapidated and full of memories. The squeals of young children cutting up, running through the house, carrying a laughter so bright that you are tickled too. The stains and wounds resulting from an intense family argument that could of ended with tragedy at any moment. The echoes of the family's best and worst times ran through Raina's head, as she stood inside her childhood house, to say goodbye forever.

"LET'S GETCHA HOME BOI" As my father started to walk into the forest he spoke to me, thinking that I couldn't understand a word. "YE GEST WAIT 'TILL THE TRIBE SEES YA. OH, THE LOOKS THEIR FACES, YER ONE UGLY OGRE CUB YA KNOW DAT." Despite his thick accent and deep voice I understood my father clear as day. Or should I say night. It was only then that I noticed that it wasn't the sun that lit up the sky but the stars and the moons. *Wait holdup, moons, why are there eight?* "OH, WHAT SEEMS TO HAVE CAUGHT YER EYE LITTLE ONE." said my father as he followed my line of sight. "AH, THE MOONS, YE SHOULD KNOW THAT EACH ONE REPRESENTS THE DOMAIN OF A GOD."

A shadow appeared from behind a nearby tree. *HOLY SHIT* In front of my eyes was a giant, its skin a dark green, its eyes completely black except for yellow irises. Long crooked fangs dripping with saliva filled its massive jaws. Two holes for nostrils sat above it's eyes. Its body was shaped like Hercules if he had a dad bod. Its claws were chipped and stained with blood. Its ears short yet pointy. Its arms were long and its legs were short. *IF MY FATHER LOOKS LIKE THAT, THEN WHAT THE HELL DO I LOOK LIKE* ^I don't know Master, I can only see what you see.^ *Well that's helpful. So, R.S is he going to eat me or what. If so, that would be a huge pile of BULLSHIT.* ^That is unlikely Master for two reasons. One he can sense that you are kin, and two your traits Enhanced Dark Affinity and Monster/Sentient Race Hybrid are making it so that he's more compelled to look after you than to eat you^ *So your telling me, that I have a doting father, that looks like walking shit.*

Darkness. That was all I saw. That was all I felt. Yet, after a lifetime of misery and torment, I didn't fear it. I embraced it. Then a warmth enveloped my body and with it light. As I blinked away my blindness I heard the voice of a woman in a language I couldn't understand. I realized that I was just born. ^RETRIBUTION SYSTEM SYNCHRONIZATION INTALIZING^ ^10% SYNCHRONIZATION^ ^20% SYNCHRONIZATION^ ... ^100% SYNCHRONIZATION^ ^SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE^ ^Hello Master Jack, I am your Retribution System aka R.S and I am here to help you RULE this universe or DESTROY it^ *WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON* ^Master Jack, you died in your previous life at the age of 18.^ *I KNOW THAT, I MEANT WHAT HAPPENED AFTER* ^SATAN asked you some questions and you answered this is the result^ *DO HAVE TO BE SO CALM ABOUT IT*

Jealous of everyone and anyone that comes in contact with my person. I cant help but get angry when someone looks at them.

A young writer tries to find her voice in the midst of being haunted by her own self-criticisms as she thought she could change the world someday but doubts every word she writes but when somebody she once knew comes back in her life, even just for a few moments, her perspective starts to change and she finally starts to realize her true potential and what can offer to the world. Guided by love and courage, she learns to push past the anxiety and perfectionism and rediscover what inspired her to write in the first place.

The poetry of my mind that my mouth can't express. The reason of my well being. It is a story and autobiography.

A tightening psychological‑supernatural horror, The Third Floor follows Claire as she’s trapped in a looping, shifting building that feeds on guilt, memory, and unresolved grief. Each cycle drags her deeper—through haunted hallways, impossible mirrors, and echoes of her past—forcing her to confront the truth about her sister’s death while the house itself grows hungry for her.

The ground collapsed beneath Star, slamming her into stone hard enough to steal her breath. Cold flooded the chamber as a crowned shadow descended, beautiful and merciless. Darkness surged into her eyes, her body arching as her tattoos burned and spread, carving something ancient into her flesh. Azrathion stopped the soldiers with one look. This wasn’t corruption. It was inheritance. When Star rose, eyes glowing darker pink, her smile was small and lethal. The world had misjudged her—and it would pay.

The song of the hidden twins, created by the source. Chapter one in this stream! Enjoy its an epic saga

Star sat in silence as money passed through her hands, calm where others would rush. Lives failed her. Fortunes shifted. It meant nothing. Orders were given. Blood was spilled. Empires expanded. When Jakari’s name surfaced, her attention sharpened—not with fear, but hunger. Arkansas was closing. Florida was next.

The feared supernatural event, The Red Snow, drives Stenn and his fellow clansmen into a fight overnight for survival.

This is a short story based in the world that the video game Arc Raiders takes place in. If you are unfamiliar I have attached the lore below. ARC Raiders lore centers on humanity's struggle for survival underground after a cataclysm known as the Collapse (around 2180) devastated Earth, followed by the arrival of mysterious, advanced robots called ARC, forcing survivors into subterranean cities like Speranza (in former Italy). Raiders risk the dangerous surface to scavenge resources, battling waves of increasingly advanced ARC machines, while uncovering clues about the machines' origins—speculated to be linked to humans who escaped Earth via an "Exodus" project or an AI takeover, with the machines possibly trying to reclaim the planet.

I stepped away, alone in the observation bay. Holograms of Jakari’s shoulder hovered in front of me, angles and micro-movements glowing softly. Every twitch, every flare of pain, every subtle adjustment I noted. My heart counted what the readouts couldn’t: his stubbornness, his precision, the way he carried danger like a second skin. I leaned closer, tracing the lines. Not just his shoulder. Him. I sighed, forcing focus back to numbers—but I knew, quietly, I’d always been watching him more than anyone else did.

Stenn Bearclaws' adventure begins in media res. The Cro-Magnon of the Moose Rock clan are under supernatural attack. The Red Snow has come, heralded earlier in the day by a bujant attack.

A man asked the Oracle, "How can I enter the solo roleplay hobby?" And the Oracle said, "Why not hack together a simple dice pool mechanic rules system and run with it?"

Devine Paths have a cause, and for the earth it's the sole Navigator Leif Erikson and his trust in the universe to be part of a major Cataclysmic change in the earth, allowing everyone their consciousness to be restored. You can't expect peace and prosperity after this still, you'll be forgiven if you did, despite Devine awakenings people can be corrupted if they get their hands on the wrong things. Leif Erikson here is our main wheel to get the gears turning in this Alternate Universe