Jigsaw Stories Novels & Stories

Still laughing, they moved on to the next game: the Anime Character Puzzle Challenge. Tables were lined with jigsaw puzzles of varying difficulty, each featuring different anime characters. The goal was to finish within the time limit with the highest accuracy. Rolling up her sleeves, Jodi’s competitive side kicked in. “Alright, this one’s my specialty. Let’s go for the Demon Slayer one—Tanjiro’s my favorite, and I know his face like the back of my hand.” Nora looked down at the sea of tiny puzzle pieces and winced. “That looks impossible. But okay, I’ll help you find the right pieces.”

Jigsaw chaos, maybe fifty bits, edges worn soft. Picture on the lid: A garden maze, hedges twisting like secrets. I knelt beside her, sifting colors. Blues and greens mostly, a splash of red for roses. "Maze, huh? Tricky. You start, or me?" She tapped a corner piece, sky blue, cloud puff, pushing it my way. Challenge accepted. I slotted it down, then grabbed a green curve. "Hedge? Or path? Bet it's a trapdoor to candy land." Her shoulders shook in a silent giggle, I think. She shook her head, snatching a yellow straight-edge.

“Tell that to the glass in your face. f**k. Lucifer’s going to be pissed.” I frown. I guess I missed that. Jynx walks over to the Crawlercicle and with a swift kick, shatters the Crawler into pieces. She looks down at the broken chunks of ice and Crawler bits in disgust. “Still think you don’t need me?” She holds out her hand and I take it. She easily lifts me to my feet. “You look like shit.” I smirk. “Well, that’s the look I was going for.”

All of us have already healed from the tragedy, and everyone is doing okay. I sighed heavily and massaged my neck before I got out of my car. It’s already 6 in the evening, and I just got home from school. Hays, too much work really hurts your body. The darkness greeted me when I opened the door. I sighed and was about to open the light when someone did it for me. And what I saw shocked me. It is Jesse, wearing a red lingerie nightdress. The lights are dim, and I could say that she perfectly fits on it. She was so fucking hot and gorgeous in that lingerie.

Jane narrated “What kind of nonsense English are you speaking” Mr. Ogene said, she was silent “And why did your mother not tell me... what kind of nonsense is this” he protested “She said she will come back now now” “And she didn’t keep anything at home” “She gave me 100 naira to buy something” Jane said “And what did you buy” “I want to go and buy biscuit and straw berry juice” she said “What did I tell you about sweet things?” he questioned and she was silent

First was White's necklace, then it was Crimson's picture, and now, that terrified expression from Lilac. I wanted to live my school life peacefully, but it's like there's this external force trying to get me involved with those three no matter how hard I try to avoid it. Whenever I see them in trouble, I can't just leave them alone. At this point, I don't know what to do anymore.

I punched the bridge of my nose and rubbed my temples, telling the stress that had chained me to release me from it's shackles. Jade's turn and she told a story that had already been written by some author known as Godwin Hosanna Aga. The book was named in the deep and it was about some girl named Hephzibah and it was pretty interesting and scary the way my baby sister had told it with a touch light under her chin, illuminating her face and weird canines. "And that is, in the deep!" Jade screamed, stomping her feet on the floor and howling like a wolf.

she said, smiling into her cup, “is the interesting part.” I waited, but she let the silence sit there between us, clearly pleased with herself. It would have irritated me if I had not known her well enough to hear the excitement underneath it. Jenny loved many things intensely and briefly, girls, guys, theories, comics, passing obsessions, places she had no business going after midnight, but stories were different. Stories she pursued with a strange kind of devotion. Not the neat, polished ones people handed you willingly. The buried ones. The ones that resisted.

“Then maybe that’s your answer.” Later that night, Ryan stood by his window. The streetlights blurred in the distance. His inbox pinged again a reply from L. Tansey, offering a call. He didn’t answer yet. Instead, he opened a blank page. And he typed: “A Story That Doesn’t Belong To You” by Ryan Calloway He stared at the title for a long moment. Then under it, he wrote: “This isn’t a story about revenge. It’s about reclaiming.” Two weeks later.

Since the internet was probably the easier thing to obtain, she intended to broach the topic of suggesting it be installed with Jasper first thing in the morning. Lying in the dark, she focused on the light that filtered through the small gap between the floor and the bottom of the door. Shadows danced back and forth as vampires moved about. Do they ever sleep? She thought with frustration. The stories all had them as nocturnal beings. From what Jasper had said, most of the stories about the vampires were incorrect. It figured that this would be one of the few that was accurate.