Crossing Lines Novels & Stories

With my empty cup. And this feeling: I've crossed a line. And I no longer know if there's a path back.

CASPIAN'S POV She frowned at that. “You said werewolves can’t mate with humans. Which creatures can they mate with, if other supernatural creatures exist as well?” I smiled at that. “We’ll talk about other supernatural creatures another time, but as far as werewolf matings go, the rarity of cross matings means that we don’t really have enough information to go on. We know more about cross matings between other creatures.” “Which werewolf cross matings have you heard of?” she asked.

Three months later, on a Friday, I worked overtime until nine at night. When I walked out of the office building, the humid wind of a tropical night brushed my face. I took a deep breath and rubbed my sore neck. To get from here to my apartment, I had to pass through a lively food street. I was looking down, replying to a work message, when out of the corner of my eye I spotted two people standing across the street. My steps stopped short. The neon lights were dazzling, but I still recognized that figure at a glance. Simon Carver.

“…had intention.” Charlotte’s skin prickled. “You think someone was trying to contact us?” “No.” Darrien’s expression hardened. “I think someone was looking for us.” The room fell silent. Charlotte’s pulse quickened again. James crossed to the whiteboard mounted on the wall. He drew three circles. Intertwined. Then another circle several inches away. “If we’re the bridge…” He drew a line from the fourth circle toward the center. “…someone just knocked.” Charlotte stared at the drawing.

Two words, just to have a record. *Crossline Holdings.* Something about it felt unfinished.

The ministerial group were looking at the floating sofas with unblinking wide eyes. "Let's see what were you hiding~" Erik said while approaching the base of the old sofas pile. Dragging some sofas to the side, Erik exposed to the group what appeared to be an arrangement of candles. Fifty-one identical red candles were arranged in a spiral shape with a big black one right on the center of the spiral, making it the 52nd candle. Erik looked at the arrangement, analysing it entirely. After he reached his conclusion he said to the group.

One would have sections crossed over one city and then in another that crossing would be six hours away. I did my best to find a fairly reputable looking site then just found where some lines crossed closest to me. It looked like there was a spot that had three lines in a park nearby. How very convenient. That weird creepy feeling rose again. I mean, it wasn't perfect, and maybe I was way off, but a park that close near me with three lines? This just all seemed too easy.

A line crossed. A truth spoken. And neither of them knew how to take it back.

He laughed to himself and steeled himself even more. After what felt like a few years of walking to him he finally saw it. The crossroad. The roads were dusty yellow with a few cracks travelling through them. The man stood on the left side of the road where at the edge of it stood an old wooden sign post that threatened to fall at any moment. The signs were pointing towards a direction with the names on them. The forwards, left, right arrows read ‘NOWHERE’, while the last arrow which pointed towards the road that he came from read, ‘MAYBE SOMEWHERE’.