Fiction Is Real Novels & Stories

“This is only the latest incarnation, the visible part of the story if you will, like the tip of an iceberg showing above the water. The rest of the story resides with its teller and the footage will want to join it, so it will take you there.” “But what happens when I get there? What’s this Mr Isimud going to do? I mean if he trapped Melissa in his story and made her a character, he’s not just going to hand her over is he?” “Have you ever read a story where that happens?” “No, but this isn’t a story, it’s actually happening.” “Are you entirely sure of that?” “Are you saying I’m hallucinating all of this?” “No that’s not what I’m saying at all, I’m asking what you know about fiction?”

There was a chance that the marking wouldn’t work because she was human and honestly as much as it pained me it would probably be for the best if it didn’t. An hour later we were in the jet ready to take off and go back to the real world that was our lives and I felt dread in the pit of my stomach. My appetite was gone but Finley ate breakfast on the jet as if she hadn’t eaten the whole weekend. “Do you ever think about the reality of the things you write?” I asked her. “There is no reality in what I write Damon, that’s why it’s called fiction,” she said as she made herself more comfortable on the leather chair.

I found myself sitting up straighter, suddenly interested. “Take Jekyll and Hyde, for example. Or the selkies in Celtic mythology—seals that could shed their skins to become human. Werewolf legends. Vampire folklore.” His eyes swept across the room. “Stories of beings that walk among us, hiding their true nature behind familiar faces.” “But those are just stories,” said Marcus Webb from the back row. “Made-up stuff to scare people.” “Are they? Consider this: what if these stories persisted throughout history not because they’re fiction, but because they contain elements of truth? What if the line between fantasy and reality isn’t as clear as we assume?”

he spoke without hesitation. Everybody seemed perplexed by his answer. He was a fantasy writer. How many personal real-life experiences could have happened? “How is that possible?” The same girl asked, mimicking my thoughts. “You’re a fantasy author, so your writing is fiction.” “It depends on your definition of fiction. I have a broader sense of the word. What makes something fiction? Just because you can’t see something with your eyes, doesn’t make it not real.” “Like air…” I found myself talking softly from the back of the room, getting Joseph’s attention.

Their legs began to shuffle but one of the campers stood still, his legs couldn't move and he had pissed on himself. "Everyone... Run! John screamed and immediately they began sprinted through the dark woods, some towards the direction of the camp, others overwhelmed by fear ran in other directions heading to unknown destinations. Summer was ahead of them all while Glenn and John were behind her. She wanted to die but certainly not in the hands of a beast she was yet to believe was real.

Pure confusion and anxiety, which is how Kaleah felt at that moment, having to visit Clayton in a space so important as his office will sure make him mad, they were a couple just for show. “I don’t think Clayton would like it very much.” Kaleah protested, but it was clearly pouring water into rock, Becketts, once they have their mind into something who can change their mind. The inside of the building was pure Sci-fi dream, she had never stepped foot inside something so magnificent. “Are you sure your family is not consisting of aliens?” Kaleah asks, “even my paintings are not this magnificent, and I sold a 100 000 $ painting.” “You do know we are supper rich right?”

Disclaimer: This work is a piece of fantasy fiction. All names, characters, businesses, events, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. As a writer, I believe in the power of storytelling to create worlds that allow readers to escape reality and explore their imaginations. Each character and event in this story has been crafted with care, and I hope they resonate with you as much as they do with me.

>>The world is much bigger and more beautiful than this, Oli. Some of my stories are fiction; they don't exist, but others, like today's, are real, and I was hoping you could pay close attention in case I can't escape with you. I need you to remember these indications.

Probably I am hallucinating because I am really tired. I can't tell what is real from what is fake now!

“Yeah, duh, I was, but I was just practicing how I’ll challenge a werewolf when I meet one in real life.” “You know it’s not real. ALl this nonsense fantasies about werewolves." I waved a hand over my face, forcing my tone to not leak with fear. “That's what they want you to think!” she exclaimed, scrolling down on her laptop screen, ‘these are articles about people that have seen real werewolves.” “People make up stuff these days for people to read. YOu’re just helping their market increase in sales by believing them." I faked a laugh.