Humans Stories Mga Nobela at Kwento

“There are angels and demons in their world, yes, pretty similar to us in appearance. However, unlike us, they are of one or another kind. They are just winged humans with a limited arsenal of power. We on the other side are stronger than their archangels claim to be. Still, they are looking down on us. And sometimes you should give them a lesson. You see, our abilities are of a larger range. Plus this realm can be equally hell or paradise for humans. We can drag them here by signing contracts or by their will. We can make someone’s dreams come true or enslave them and demand a price like all fairies can do.” “And if they escape from here they talk about angels and heaven or demons and hell,

The education program Claudia would eventually, years from now, build into something that bore her own mark. At the back of the report, a section I'd asked the communications team to add two years ago. Stories. Not statistics. Stories. Specific people whose lives had been touched by the foundation's work. A woman in Chicago who'd accessed the therapy center after losing both parents in a car accident at nineteen. A boy in Seattle who'd received a scholarship and was now finishing a degree in public health. A family in London who'd found the resources to stay together after catastrophic loss. People my parents would never know existed.

They are mostly related to training in some way, with a few that were just for fun. The fun ones were stories about this lost race of creatures called humans. These creatures were weak, with no special shifting, strength, or magical powers. But they were an interesting group. Because of their short lifespans they lived life to the fullest, and developed technology that we still use today. It is a sad story though, they destroyed themselves. You would think a race that celebrated and held such a grasp on living life they wouldn’t kill each other with such abandon. It reminds me a little of rogues, but without the bad smell.

“I thought they were weak and oblivious to the supernatural world.” “Yeah, that’s mostly the case but there are stories. Stories written by our kind and published here.” Lupa said. “Stories exposing our rituals, our existence and how to do things that humans shouldn’t know about. Most humans take the stories as fiction but there are still some that believe the stories to the extent of actually trying out the rituals. I’m thinking this human stumbled on a book about demons and decided to try it.”

Kliara replied, still ignorant about Jacob’s true purpose there with her. “What do you know about the stories?” Kliara curiously asked Jacob to hear his answer. “I heard the humans found out about the existence of the night creatures and were afraid to co-exist with them, then they did what they always do.” Jacob answered But something Jacob said caught her attention. “You said they?, by that you mean us, humans right?” Kliara had to be sure about what Jacob means. Kliara’s question made Jacob realize he almost gave himself up.

The responsibility is too diffused. More importantly, it would only reinforce Humans’ hostility toward the other two species, and there are buckets of that going around already. That’s why, after agreeing to this interview, Maddie, Lucien, and I put our heads down and workshopped a few talking points. The title of our story is An Evil Human Ex- Governor Locked Poor Little Hybrid Me in a Basement Because He Hated Peace. It’s palatable. Easy to understand. Might even allow the average Human to feel morally superior.

They laughed together, the easy laughter of people who'd survived everything life threw at them and come out stronger on the other side. Outside, the city hummed with millions of stories in progress - people meeting and parting, struggling and succeeding, loving and losing and learning. Somewhere out there, a young woman was probably worrying about a mistake she'd made, not knowing it might be the catalyst for everything good to come. Somewhere out there, someone was fighting their way out of poverty, not knowing they might someday help others do the same. Somewhere out there, all the ordinary disasters and lucky accidents of human existence were unfolding. And here, in this brownstone that

I, on the other hand, despite being told again and again that humans were dangerous was very curious to see the human society. I recalled dad’s story about a someone from our pack being ambushed by a human and sold to other humans. She was never heard from again. Even though that was the story told to me, my curious mind did not leave me alone for a second. I knew fully believed that all humans were these selfish heartless people. I wanted to interact and know more about them; it was if there was a whole new world to explore beyond the brick walls.

But it was the end of my misery, because that night, this human sparked life in me once again. Just one human. My human, Victoria. The END.

Raihan will still be Raihan, someone who is not afraid of being killed by anyone except God who took his life. My principle is to kill or be killed to defend human justice on this earth. As long as I live, I will always defend truth and virtue without knowing one's caste, money, education, life principles, religion, position, and dignity. Someone in this world has the same right to live in this world, be side by side with each other, hold each other, and love each other that is what I want.