Book Reviews Holes Novels & Stories

"I'm so sorry, the alarm will be triggered for illegal access if you will try to push through. The Ground 2 can only be access by the elders but Ground Zero is not accessible except for the Alpha, his descendants, the Beta and any of their visitors. It's barely being visited though. I just went twice but it's a nice place to know about all things about us." My eyes widen as I heard him said that the Ground Zero have all things about us, wolves. I think that the solution to my problem is written in one of the books. "Someone will bring your lunch. I need to go back upstairs. If you need something just press the intercom." "Than you so much! Don't worry about us," I answered politely. As we ar

Layers of chillness pervaded our skin and pierced our bones, and I shuddered in the cold, my protective layers of clothing proving ineffective. As we slowly descended, I saw many holes over stone walls, resembling countless pairs of jet-black eyes staring at us, sending shivers down one’s spine. Each hole was the size of a human head, and some of the larger ones would fit an entire person—it left me wondering if it was the nest of some gigantic bird species, though what bird dwells in such a hostile environment?

I turned around and limped out of the Alpha King's Chamber, every step dragging a fresh surge of burning pain across my shredded knees. When I reached my small desk outside the Grand Council Hall, I sank heavily into the wooden chair. I pulled off the soaked white rags wrapped around my legs. The raw wounds had torn wide open again, bright red blood dripping steadily onto the cold stone floorboards. I pulled out the small glass jar of green healing salve Elias had given me. My hands shook violently as I dug my fingers into the cold paste and smeared it directly over the exposed, bleeding meat of my knees. I gasped out loud, biting my bottom lip so hard I tasted metallic blood on my tongue, f

He recognized it too. A howl pierced the sky. Zen. Thunder tore through the crimson clouds. Silhouettes emerged from the woods, sprinting toward Hezel’s gates. Hunters in radiant robes. Wolves as swift as the wind. The earth birthed poisonous ivy to scale the walls. Hezel was under siege again—but this time, for me. Rogues gasped as the city they thought they’d owned was stormed by those seeking to reclaim their Red Riding Hood. Then… he came. The air shifted. Cold. Still. I turned—barely breathing—until my eyes met his.

I ask, anxious. “Maybe,” Christian murmurs, nodding a little. “But…it’s good.” He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, where are the holes? Let’s find them now.” “Holes?” I ask, confused. “Plot holes,” Frankie murmurs. “Ways people can call our story.” “Well,” I say with a little shrug. “I…don’t have a cell phone.” “Good,” Christian says, his eyebrows going up as he nods to me.

He believed it didn't matter. He rested for a while in the room and then went downstairs for dinner. He had a four day growth of beard and two rubber devices tucked into his cheeks to help modify how his face looked. His hair was a little longer than his usual businessman's haircut and it was much grayer. At dinner he watched most of a basketball game he didn't care about and then went to a house phone and called room 821. No one answered. He went back to his room and set up his test. A vacuum and a drill came out of his suitcase and he drilled a hole through the floor in his room and through the ceiling in the room below. Room 821. The hole was small, 9mm to be exact. He had positioned the

Notice: Hi. This is the author of “Down the Rabbit Hole”. This is a short notice that everything in this story is purely fictional. All characters, settings, and pieces of information are purely all from the creator’s mind. Others, that you may find similar to what you have seen, you have read, all of those are purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any matter without prior notice or permission of the copyright owner. It’s a world of fantasy to be in, and a world where we can runaway, so hold on, Mi Estrellas.

It was a grown-up book, but Dad had been reading it to him. "Do you want me to read?" Ethan asked. River didn't say yes. But he didn't say no. Ethan opened the book to the bookmark. He turned on his small reading light. "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit," Ethan read. He wasn't very fast, but he knew the words. "Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort."

I’d have gladly walked into its yawning gullet at that moment. “It’s a very interesting book, Doon,” continued Maurice. “It’s the story of Muad’Dib, the mouse that hides from the sun and travels in the cool night.” “Sounds a bit boring,” said Flossie. “Do you think we could delay this week’s Book Club until we get out of this mess?” I requested in my most reasonable voice. Stay calm, wait for first light, and then make our way back to the lake, possibly to drown myself and get it all over with. “Just keep quiet and don’t make any sudden movements.”