Emica Kana is 18 years old. She has always loved writing stories., They were her escape from reality. She always wished that a man would come and save her like they always do in the stories.
Well, she got her wish.
Emica entered a small writing school that was near a river. Her friend had joined her. But, the teacher had an odd vibe around him. Emica became a little scared of him. She especially became scared when the teacher started to pay more attention to her. One day, when she runs from him, she falls into a world of adventure, risk, and abnormalities. 
But, her teacher is what scares her more than this new world. What secrets and schemes did he use to get her here?

365 days, 365 scenes.
Battles among supreme beings.
Poems about losing love.
Dragons showing mercy.
Kids stumbling upon magic.

This journey involves my answering of 365 creative writing prompts in a desperate bid to overcome my laziness.
The prompts come from https://thinkwritten.com/365-creative-writing-prompts/ and I write one a day.

THE SITUATION RIGHT NOW: I've gotten over the majority of my laziness. I'm unlikely to update this much. It's pretty much complete. The novel I'm working on is Dark Seas Leading Demise

Rain. Rain was falling from the sky, on a dark, wet, and cold day. Isaac was walking through the rain along the streets of Pittsburgh to his favorite coffee shop. He paused on the sidewalk and looked up. "Typical Pittsburgh weather." Isaac muttered as he continued walking along the sidewalk. 

The young man stopped at the coffee shop door and walked inside. The room was full of people, staring at their phones, like an old relic. Isaac entered the coffee shop and got a coffee. It was milky and sweet just the way he liked it. He sat down at the only open table and sipped his hot drink.

It was about four in the afternoon when things changed. Rain had stopped falling from the sky, and someone walked into coffee shop, someone that had caught Isaac's eye. She had beautiful strawberry blonde hair, fair skin, and dark brown eyes. The girl sparked his interest. 

While she was buying her coffee, a man, surprisingly got off his phone and reached for her purse. Isaac acted quickly, and caught the man's arm and pulled it away. He then whispered, "It isn't nice to steal things," Then pushed him away into his table knocking it over, breaking glasses, and hurting people.

She bought her coffee and turned around. Isaac was standing there and he took the opportunity to start a friendly conversation, "Good afternoon!" He cheerfully said to her. 

"Hello." she responded. 

"What is your name? I am Isaac." Isaac put out a hand to shake. 

"I'm Allie." She shook Isaac's hand. 

"There is an open seat at my table if you want." Isaac offered.

 "I don't want to interrupt anything." She responded politely.

 "It wouldn't be any trouble at all! I have no one else to talk to." Isaac said.

 "That would be awesome! Thanks!" she replied.

Isaac led Allie to his table. "I don't mean to bother you, but you seem tired and worn out." He observed. 

"Well, yeah. Recently I have been having long nights, and work has been stressful." she replied.

 Isaac asked, "What do you do for a job? 

"I write articles for a newspaper. I like to write, but I prefer to be more creative when I write you know?" Allie nodded her head. Conversation led on from there. At five thirty, the two left the shop. 

Who knew that just one rainy day, a cup of coffee, and even a robber can spark things into...love?

His plan was to rent a room, clean himself up, buy clean clothes, sleep for a few hours, and make his way into Pittsburgh to catch a bus early in the morning. What happened was Zack lay on his bed and fell asleep before he dredged up the motivation to move.

He woke midmorning to the sound of talking in the room next to his. Zack checked the clock, saw it was after nine, and rolled out of the bed. In the bathroom mirror, he appeared normal enough save for his clothing, which was sliced and faded from repeatedly soaking in his blood. While the blood may have vanished from his shirt and pants, the damage it had caused remained.

Studying his appearance, Zack decided a change of clothes would be worth the delay. Anything that made him harder to spot could potentially save him. Which was why he needed to abandon the truck as soon as possible. Why didn't I learn anything about the closest city that didn't come from a television? I really am a terrible Observer.

Zack tore the wrapper from the tiny hotel soap and turned on the water. He thoroughly washed his face and hands. While he was toweling dry, Zack glanced at the wedding band perched on his ring finger. He imagined Lacey at home, clutching her phone, unsure if he lived or not. She deserves to know. Well, maybe not know the truth, but to have some sort of closure. If I tell her I know the baby isn't mine, then she can move on with her life.

The hotel room phone felt heavy in his hands as he dialed Lacey's number. He took a breath and prepared himself for the accusation that would be in her voice. The phone rang twice and picked up. "Hello?" The voice was Erik's. "Is that you, Zack Vernon? Hess?"

What is she doing with Lacey's phone? Shit, this is so wrong. "What do you want?" he said.

"Hiya Hess! Seems like just yesterday you were on the farm. So anyway, I was thinking you could stop over for another visit. Lacey's here right now and we were just talking about how much happier she would be if you joined us."

Zack had to clear his throat to speak. "Why take her? She doesn't know anything."

"Same reason I abduct anyone. Cause I wanna play. Now I want two things from you in exchange for the little darling's life, Hess. First, come back to the farm. Second, tell me which one of these shitheads helped you escape."

He squeezed his eyes shut. Am I supposed to just abandon her? There has to be another way. The solution struck him. "I'll call back with my decision in an hour."

"I don't think so," Erik said. "You call the authorities and things go very, very bad. Things look squeaky clean at the farm right now. Ingrid's got the legal right to be here. Cops won't find shit if they show. This ain't my first rodeo."

"I'm not coming back to the farm," Zack said.

"That's a shame. Well, you called to talk to Lacey. Here she is."

"Zack?" Lacey's voice climbed octaves as she spoke. "Why are they doing this? I'm afraid for the baby. Oh, God, Zack, I am so afraid. She smashed my fucking hand with a hammer. Please, Zack, please . . . I don't know what I'm asking. Just, it's the baby. I don't want the baby to die."

Erik's voice returned. "I can do a lot worse than a hammer, Hess. I can cut her unborn child out of her and slice the thing into pieces while she watches. By the standard of these creatures, I'm pretty deranged, Hess. This woman would die a death more horrifying than you can imagine. Mutilation means something to a mortal that it never could to us. We see a mangled limb and wait for the thing to fix itself, but they see a piece of themselves irreversibly destroyed. You can't imagine how easy it is to terrorize them."

There was silence on the line as Zack thought. Finally, Erik spoke again. "How about a compromise?"

"You want to catch me. I don't want caught. Not much room for compromise."

"We've just got to be a little creative, Hess. Stop treating things all binary-like. Instead of caught and not-caught, let's deal in degrees of risk. I'm willing to release Lacey to you in a time and location you choose. You can make it as public or as remote as your soft heart desires. The only stipulation is that you show alone."

Zack sighed. "Deal. We'll meet at the parking lot of buffalo plaza."

"Less than a mile from a police station. Well played, Hess. Just make sure you show alone. The professionals haven't been playing these games for nearly as long as I have. How long will it take you to get there from the . . . Tarentum Hyatt?"

Caller ID. He grabbed the room key. "I'll be there at ten." The moment he slammed the phone home, Zack was running through the door. They are always two steps ahead of me.

Zack Vernon is an immortal Observer sent to watch the world on behalf of the Creator.  When his suicide attempt fails spectacularly and earns him a spot on the national news, the other Observers are drawn to him.

They believe Zack to be the reincarnation of a rebellious Observer from a previous world.  Several of them plan to punish him for the sins they believe he committed.  One of them wants back the man she has loved through hundreds of worlds.  But Zack remembers nothing before the present.  All he wants is a chance to end his life.

JUDGMENT 

Use the wisdom, knowledge, and legwork of other people 
to further your own cause. Not only will such assistance 
save you valuable time and energy, it will give you a 
godlike aura of efficiency and speed. In the end your 
helpers will be forgotten and you will be remembered. 
Never do yourself what others can do for you. 

TRANSGRESSION AND OBSERVANCE OF THE LAW 
In 1883 a young Serbian scientist named Nikola Tesla was working for the 
European division of the Continental Edison Company. He was a brilliant 
inventor, and Charles Batchelor, a plant manager and a personal friend of 
Thomas Edison, persuaded him he should seek his fortune in America, giving him a letter of introduction to Edison himself. So began a life of woe 
and tribulation that lasted until Tesla's death. 
When Tesla met Edison in New York, the famous inventor hired him 
on the spot. Tesla worked eighteen-hour days, finding ways to improve the 
primitive Edison dynamos. Finally he offered to redesign them completely. 
To Edison this seemed a monumental task that could last years without 
paying off, but he told Tesla, "There's fifty thousand dollars in it for you-if 
you can do it." Tesla labored day and night on the project and after only a 
year he produced a greatly improved version of the dynamo, complete 
with automatic controls. He went to Edison to break the good news and receive his $50,000. Edison was pleased with the improvement, for which he 
and his company would take credit, but when it came to the issue of the 
money he told the young Serb, "Tesla, you don't understand our American 
humor!," and offered a small raise instead. 
Tesla's obsession was to create an altemating-current system (AC) of 
electricity. Edison believed in the direct-current system (DC), and not only 
refused to support Tesla's research but later did all he could to sabotage 
him. Tesla turned to the great Pittsburgh magnate George Westinghouse, 
who had started his own electricity company. Westinghouse completely 
funded Tesla's research and offered him a generous royalty agreement on 
future profits. The AC system Tesla developed is still the standard today but after patents were filed in his name, other scientists came forward to 
take credit for the invention, claiming that they had laid the groundwork 
for him. His name was lost in the shuffle, and the public came to associate 
the invention with Westinghouse himself. 
A year later, Westinghouse was caught in a takeover bid from 
J. Pierpont Morgan, who made him rescind the generous royalty contract 
he had signed with Tesla. Westinghouse explained to the scientist that his 
company would not survive if it had to pay him his full royalties; he persuaded Tesla to accept a buyout of his patents for $216,000-a large sum, 
no doubt, but far less than the $12 million they were worth at the time. The 
financiers had divested Tesla of the riches, the patents, and essentially the 
credit for the greatest invention of his career. 
The name of Guglielmo Marconi is forever linked with the invention 
of radio. But few know that in producing his invention-he broadcast a signal across the English Channel in 1899-Marconi made use of a patent 
Tesla had filed in 1897, and that his work depended on Tesla's research. 
Once again Tesla received no money and no credit. Tesla invented an induction motor as well as the AC power system, and he is the real "father of 
radio." Yet none of these discoveries bear his name. As an old man, he 
lived in poverty. 

In 1917, during his later impoverished years, Tesla was told he was to 
receive the Edison Medal of the American Institute of Electrical Engineers. 
He tumed the medal down. "You propose, " he said, "to honor me with a 
medal which I could pin upon my coat and strut for a vain hour before the 
members of your Institute. You would decorate my body and continue to 
let starve, for failure to supply recognition, my mind and its creative products, which have supplied the foundation upon which the major portion of 
your Institute exists." 

Interpretation 
Many harbor the illusion that science, dealing with facts as it does, is beyond the petty rivalries that trouble the rest of the world. Nikola Tesla was 
one of those. He believed science had nothing to do with politics, and 
claimed not to care for farne and riches, As he grew older, though, this ruined his scientific work. Not associated with any particular discovery, he 
could attract no investors to his many ideas. While he pondered great inventions for the future, others stole the patents he had already developed 
and got the glory for themselves. 
He wanted to do everything on his own, but merely exhausted and impoverished himself in the process. 
Edison was Tesla's polar opposite. He wasn't actually much of a scientific thinker or inventor; he once said that he had no need to be a mathematician because he could always hire one. That was Edison's main 
method. He was really a businessman and publicist, spotting the trends and 
the opportunities that were out there, then hiring the best in the field to do 
the work for him. If he had to he would steal from his competitors. Yet his 
name is much better known than Tesla's, and is associated with more inventions. 
The lesson is twofold: First, the credit for an invention or creation is as 
important, if not more important, than the invention itself. You must see use 
the credit for YOUR self and keep others from stealing it away, or from piggybacking on YOUR hard work. To accomplish this you must always be vigilant 
and ruthless, keeping YOUR creation quiet until you can be sure there are no 
vultures circling overhead. Second, leam to take advantage of other people's work to further your own cause. Time is precious and life is short. If 
you try to do it all on your own, you run yourself ragged, waste energy, and 
bum yourself out. It is far better to conserve your forces, pounce on the 
work others have done, and find a way to make it your own. 
Everybody steals in commerce and industry. 

I've stolen a lot myself. 
But I know how to steal. 
Thomas Edison, 1847-1931 

KEYS TO POWER 
The world of power has the dynamics of the jungle: There are those who 
live by hunting and killing, and there are also vast numbers of creatures 
(hyenas, vultures) who live off the hunting of others. These latter, less 
imaginative types are often incapable of doing the work that is essential for 
the creation of power. They understand early on, though, that if they wait 
long enough, they can always find another animal to do the work for them. 
Do not be naive: At this very moment, while you are slaving away on some 
project, there are vultures cirding above trying to figure out a way to survive and even thrive off your creativity. It is useless to complain about this, 
or to wear yourself ragged with bittemess, as Tesla did. Better to protect 
yourself and join the game. Once you have established a power base, become a vulture yourself, and save yourself a lot of time and energy. 
Of the two poles of this game, one can be illustrated by the example of 
the explorer Vasco Nliiiez de Balboa. Balboa had an obsession-the discovery of EI Dorado, a legendary city of vast riches. 
Early in the sixteenth century, after countless hardships and brushes 
with death, he found evidence of a great and wealthy empire to the south 
of Mexico, in present-day Peru. By conquering this empire, the Incan, and 
seizing its gold, he would make himself the next Cortes. The problem was 
that even as he made this discovery, word of it spread among hundreds of 
other conquistadors. He did not understand that half the game was keeping 
it quiet, and carefully watching those around him. A few years after he discovered the location of the Incan empire, a soldier in his own army, Francisco Pizarro, helped to get him beheaded for treason. Pizarro went on to 
take what Balboa had spent so many years trying to find. 
The other pole is that of the artist Peter Paul Rubens, who, late in his 
career, found himself deluged with requests for paintings. He created a system: In his large studio he employed dozens of outstanding painters, one 
specializing in robes, another in backgrounds, and so on. He created a vast 
production line in which a large number of canvases would be worked on 
at the same time. When an important dient visited the studio, Rubens 
would shoo his hired painters out for the day. While the dient watched 
from a balcony, Rubens would work at an incredible pace, with unbelievable energy. The dient would leave in awe of this prodigious man, who 
could paint so many masterpieces in so short a time. 
This is the essence of the Law: Lern to get others to do the work for 
you while you take the credit, and you appear to be of godlike strength and 
power. If you think it important to do all the work yourself, you will never 
get far, and you will suffer the fate of the Balboas and Teslas of the world. 
Find people with the skills and creativity you lack. Either hire them, while 
putting your own name on top of theirs, or find a way to take their work 
and make it your own. Their creativity thus becomes yours, and you seem 
a genius to the world. 
There is another application of this law that does not require the parasitic use of your contemporaries' labor: Use the past, a vast storehouse of 


knowledge and wisdom. Isaac Newton called this "standing on the shoulders of giants." He meant that in making his discoveries he had built on the 
achievements of others. A great part of his aura of genius, he knew, was attributable to his shrewd ability to make the most of the insights of ancient, 
medieval, and Renaissance scientists. Shakespeare borrowed plots, characterizations, and even dialogue from Plutarch, among other writers, for he knew that nobody surpassed Plutarch in the writing of subtle psychology 
and witty quotes. How many later writers have in their turn borrowed 
from-plagiarized--Shakespeare? 
We all know how few of today's politicians write their own speeches. 
Their own words would not win them a single vote; their eloquence and 
wit, whatever there is of it, they owe to a speech writer. Other people 
do the work, they take the credit. The upside of this is that it is a kind 
of power that is available to everyone. Learn to use the knowledge of the 
past and you will look like a genius, even when you are really just a ever 
borrower. 
Writers who have delved into human nature, ancient masters of strategy, historians of human stupidity and folly, kings and queens who have 
learned the hard way how to handle the burdens of power-their knowledge is gathering dust, waiting for you to come and stand on their shoulders. Their wit can be your wit, their skill can be your skill, and they will 
never come around to tell people how unoriginal you really are. You can 
slog through life, making endless mistakes, wasting time and energy trying 
to do things from your own experience. Or you can use the armies of the 
past. As Bismarck once said, "Fools say that they leam by experience. I 
prefer to profit by others' experience." 

Image: The Vulture. Of all the creatures in 
the jungle, he has it the easiest. The 
hard work of others becomes his work; 
their failure to survive becomes his 
nourishment. Keep an eye on 
the Vulture-while you are 
hard at work, he is cirding above. Do not 
fight him, join 
him . 
Authority: There is much to be known, life is short, and life is not life 
without knowledge. It is therefore an excellent device to acquire 
knowledge from everybody. Thus, by the sweat of another's brow, you 
win the reputation of being an orade. (Baltasar Graciän, 1601-1658) 

REVERSAL 
There are times when taking the credit for work that others have done is 
not the wise course: If your power is not firmly enough established, you 
will seem to be pushing people out of the limelight. To be a brilliant exploiter of talent your position must be unshakable, or you will be accused 
of deception. 
Be sure you know when letting other people share the credit serves 
your purpose. It is especially important to not be greedy when you have a 
master above you. President Richard Nixon's historie visit to the People's 
Republic of China was originally his idea, but it might never have come off 
but for the deft diplomacy of Henry Kissinger. Nor would it have been as 
successful without Kissinger's skills. Still, when the time came to take 
credit, Kissinger adroitly let Nixon take the Hon's share. Knowing that the 
truth would come out later, he was careful not to jeopardize his standing in 
the short term by hogging the limelight. Kissinger played the game expertly: He took credit for the work of those below him while graciously 
giving credit for his own labors to those above. That is the way to play 
the game.

I thought to myself 
with what means, with 
what deceptions, with 
how many varied arts, 
with what industry a 
man sharpens his wits 
to deceive another, 
and through these 
variations the world is 
made more beautiful.

A fiber of connection from miles away...



Our places on this earth are divided by oceans setting us apart from one continent to another. Several countries speaking several languages to understand each other. People with several cultures and beliefs. Different personalities and opinions.

In this chaotic world, we live in called real life we search for a place to escape from that reality. To be accepted as who or what we are. We have found that in the music we sing. In the books, we read. In the movies we watch. In the places, we travel and visit. Everywhere in which we get inspiration to face reality head-on.

We write stories or poems to inspire others, reading the words we weave from our own world. For some of us, it is simply an escape from reality into a world in which we can use our imaginations to dream make-believe or to live our secret fantasies or just plain be creative.

Getting on the web gives us more ways to share and get connected to other people with the same kind of thinking from across the ocean. Some of the people we meet along the way give us reasons to smile again. It's where we become friends, get to know them well, and get so close that we even trust them enough to share our own greatest fears.

I was a living a kind of living death when I found solace here on Stories Space. A place to write, camouflaging my hatred and sadness from myself when I was reading all the poetry and fictional fantasies created by the writers. I found another escape from reality and indulged in reading.

My feelings from my own troubles in life had made me feel so empty that only through laughter and reading could I be free and somewhat whole again.

I made my own heaven in purgatory.

A friend told me to write down all of my pains and troubles in poems or stories. Another friend of mine told me to be fierce in my poetry writing. I found friends who helped me give my own life a reason to continue living again through writing.

Writing makes me calm every time my mind gets into a panic mode. The pains and the fears of the unknown are my muses for writing.

When I met someone who understood me and made me feel needed and loved my poetry changed its tune. It made me think of happy thoughts. I got inspired by the things I saw and the happy memories of my childhood that I could write about.

Painful memories and realities were always there and so I wrote about them from time to time.

When that someone left me I continued writing. The same inner muse I had gained I used to keep on writing.

Then, out of nowhere, I got to know you. I became happy again. This time I got even more inspired and more creative, experimenting with my writings.

I set aside my shyness and reservations to write creatively. I still can't overcome some of my shyness and reservation but I am blooming, inspired by you.

You became my muse.

The man in the moon. The stars in my darkest hours. When at night I can't sleep thinking of you calms me to sleep.

The sunshine after the heavy storm. Where all the dead trees come to life again. That keeps me warm when everything gets chilly.

My own little heaven in my real life purgatory.

Writing...

Rune's Prose & Poetries

LUCID DREAMS

my wandering crazy mind is just doodling in the sands...

it's just me ...this is a collection of my amateurish writings of poetry, short stories, and prose...

These are all short stories compilation a different story per chapter.

WARNING: Adult contents, please be advised that you're reading EROTICA


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
RuneMcGrey
Copyright©2014-present

All writings remains MEG Cabingan a.k.a. RuNe also known as runemcgrey's property.
Don't use it for any other purposes without her permission.

I am sitting the game system, in discord...  I just need suggestions cuz my brain is closed... PLZ HELP!  
I finished writing the basics of the EXP system, and now stuck in the elemental system (almost done, but need some creative ideas!) 

After I finish writing the new game system, I will proceed with the re-write... so the more you help me, the faster I can start writing!  (Discord Link both in comments and in writer's note!)

Voidne is the unluckiest person in the world.  Just like his mother, he needs to work 5 times harder than normal people, just to achieve the same thing.

But one day the unlucky Voidne crossed through a wormhole by a mistake, that sent him into a parallel universe to occupy the body of the Voidne from that universe.

The new parallel universe was more advanced, and a new game was about to get released.  It was a VRMMORPG, that is going to be super popular.  Even companies were going to fight over occupying this game.

Voidne who was the unluckiset person in the world, is now the luckiest person in the world...  

See how Voidne's life will change!

I am a 13 year old who loves reading .I thought that I cold give a try in writing and here I am .Never expected anyone to read my book and Thank you to all who read it.I live in India so we have English as our first language so there won't be many grammatical mistakes.We have compulsory creative writing in English so all of us are used to writing lame stories.I know currently nothing much is happening in the story but I can assure that by the weekend the story will get interesting.

what if, your marriage was not your own choice

Daeva after bumping with Juno, she thought that her behavior wasn't so nice. But when the school bell rings, she snapped out of it and went to her designated room for her subject. Daeva is a fourth year college student in Literature and Creative Writing. She thought of becoming a writer to write literary pieces based on her experiences. Also, she thought that becoming a writer would allow her to have a small chance of interacting with people.

When she was about to enter her room, her Professor bumped into her. Mrs. Sanchez smiled at her. Daeva greeted her good morning and Mrs. Sanchez greeted her in return.

They both entered the room and Daeva sat at the second row. Mrs. Sanchez greeted her class and began discussing a lesson about her subject. She kept blabbing in front while Daeva glanced at the window. She caught a glimpse of Juno who's about to leave the school gates. As she follows Juno with her eyes, she began to feel a sharp pain at her left forearm. She didn't bother looking at it, she knows that it's currently bleeding so she just pulled her black sleeves lower. She returned her attention to her discussing professor and listens to her.

A couple of subjects passed then Daeva's lunch break arrived. She quickly ate at the cafeteria before going to the library. The school's library was enormous. It's also where the book club is rooming. Daeva is a member of the Book club and happens to be a good friend of Kevin, the Book club's president. When Daeva came in, she found Kevin fixing books that weren't returned to the proper shelve. She just picked up some books that were left at the tables and did the same. There weren't too much people in the library for now so she started casually chatting with Kevin.

"Hey Kev, you seem frustrated... What's wrong??" asked Daeva.

"Student School Council Vice President...She destroyed my morning." said Kevin casually.

"What did she do to you?" Daeva felt curious.

"Oh nothing...She just shuted me out... refusing to do some student council duties...or simply take the proposal and leave it to miss President's table... That's all..." Kevin replied.

Daeva didn't asked further what happened...But then, she felt like the person who she bumped with earlier at the hall way was the Vice President.

"The Vice President, was she the campus belle I keep hearing about." Daeva asked.

"Hmm? Yeah, that's her...Why, what's up?" asked Kevin as he finished arranging the books.

"I think she's the pretty blonde girl I bumped with this early morning. She wasn't really polite." Daeva said as she scratches the area where she felt pain while staring at Juno.

Kevin saw Daeva scratched her forearm right bellow her palm. He looked at Daeva with malicious intent. His lips curved up at one side. He then grab Daeva's hand and brought her to the school's clinic. Daeva didn't resisted and just followed Kevin.

The nurse was currently out of the clinic so Daeva's forearm can be treated. She pulled her sleeve up and let Kevin treat her wound. Kevin cleaned the blood off and covered it with bandage. When he was done, Daeva thanked Kevin and they came back to the library. 

There, while Daeva was waiting for her next class like Kevin, they decided to read a book. Daeva picked a random fantasy book while Kevin opened his laptop and read about demons.

"Let's go home together later and just order pizza for dinner, what do you say?" Kevin offered to Daeva.

Daeva just nodded, it's not very often that they go home together. Daeva and Kevin are roommates and oftentimes, Daeva gets home first before Kevin because of his club president duties.

Almost an hour have passed and Kevin closed his laptop. It's time for his next class, Daeva still have over half an hour before her next subject so Kevin just left her. When Kevin left the library, the atmosphere in the library became gloomy. Anyone who's in there felt uncomfortable, some left but some ignored it. Daeva is feeling a bit irritated but what can she do? She can't get rid of them...never...

Daeva kept reading until its just 15min left before her next class. She stood up from her sit and returned the book into one of the shelves. She felt a hand caressed her cheek and hear a chuckle. Daeva ignored it and left the library.

When she's out of the library, she can feel that someone ran "its" fingers on her hair. Her mouth was twitching, slowly forming a malicious grin. She covered her mouth with her hands, then, she took out a face mask from her pants's pocket and covered her grin. She went to her next class as if nothing had happened.

She still have 2 subjects left for her to survive. Her 3rd subject for the day passed as if it was a filler chapter of her day. Nothing very interesting occurred nor the class. But on her final subject of the day: Creative Writing, the class was given an activity and that is to write a poem. The poem have no specific theme but should be rhyming.

Writing poems weren't a problem for Daeva at all. She doesn't limit herself when it comes to writing and its subject. She writes what's in her mind and what she feels. They we're given an hour and when they were done, they are then dismissed. Daeva finished after 30min, she's always the first one to finish. As she passed her work and leaves the room, her professor Mr.Wilson gave her work a read.

Trigger

Young ignorant little girl,
Your heart is a black pearl.
His tongue hungers for you...
He will dye your silk a red hue.
Do not dare taunt him further
Beware, his claws are no feather.
You can't produce what he desires,
He shall come and take his prize.
Do as the old men say,
There is a price if you disobey;
Outgrow your childish ways
Or he who you shall face!

This is a collection of different stories but all told by one person, Daeva. A mysterious young woman who's always very reserved and isolated from everyone. You may approach her like anyone else but beware...

This is a horror/suspense story...please read with caution. You might not be able to sleep at night with lights off and open doors and windows.

This will be an information chapter. It's not apart of the actual story since it's in the auxiliary volume however it will have extras. Such as a world map. And any other things that is not in the main chapters would be here (When I'm bothered enough to write it).
World Map: The link for the world map will be in the comments as you can't copy and paste text within webnovel. The world has 3 continents Drago, Kingdar, Faltro. And there are multiple countries however there are 4 main ones. Read the story to find out why they're the main ones. They're named Yelgard, Relgraw, Veldrey and Camelot.
Also why the names are written weird on the map is explained in the 3rd chapter (sorta) but it's basically the writing system of Xaltrey is English but fancily written because I'm not creative.
History of Xaltrey: Read the book. That's the juicy stuff. I can't give it away yet. However it hasn't been revealed yet as I'm writing but eventually.
I'll continue this later.

Xaltrey, a world that will soon fall into the grasps of cataclysm. 

Yet a hero exists, a being who reincarnated to this world.
The reincarnate is called Alex, a loser to society. He contributed nothing. He was nothing in the eyes of others.  Until one day he got killed.

He met the goddess of the Xaltrey asked of him to defeat the evil demon Yazuro however the problem is he has to start from a newborn child in a poor family and has to work his way up to the strength required by age 30 or else the demon will win. 

A journey of magic and monsters, evil and good, heroes and demons. Starting with nothing, he has to conquer the ways of this world. 

Yet there are greater evils yet to be discovered.

creative writing pittsburgh

Creative Writing: A Creative and Abnormal Teacher

Journey of 365 Days (((Kind of Completed)))

That Rainy Day

The Participants

48 LAWS OF POWER

LUCID DREAMS

Luckiest person in the world! Re-Write SOON

WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME BACK

Daeva Schiff

Conquest for heaven

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