Our Red String Novels & Stories

It was as if the whole thing had been a joke, or even a dream! In fact, sometimes even Matthias himself wondered if what they had was just a good dream. He could only reassure himself by touching the red string on his wrist every time just to be sure that it was all real. The red string was hidden under the sleeve of his shirt. He was careful not to expose it because it was extremely meaningful to him. After all these years, the red string was worn out, but he was reluctant to throw it away. As such, he kept it on and wouldn’t simply remove it.

Red passed him a faint smile with her sincere words. "Because my dresses need your fabrics." She joked as he chuckled a bit. "We are connected this way." "You can say it... Anyways, Good luck for your meeting. If it was successful then we'd be mutual partners, I work with Graves after all." Red said rather proudly, knowing she fulfilled her promise. "Okay, I will get ready, wait for me." Red said, leaving and getting ready for work as they both left. On the way, Red watched Erich, seemingly unaffected by the awkwardness surging in her mind.

"Did you see?" "Yes, the scales of the whale only revealed the color of red. It seems someone had angered it." Rainbow Whales are known for their colorful scales that you can see during the night underwater, but their variety of colors also affects their mood. And the color red isn't a good sign. "We need to further this investigation with the mayor," I tell Zayn as he nods. Then I teleported us to the bunker. Once we summoned ourselves, we were greeted and respected by the townsfolk.

Nadia was in the car, Cassandra was walking beside her. She griped to herself as she fought to gnaw and pull the tape from her wrists, tugging out the peachfuzz from her arms in the process. She spat the tape on the floor and then rubbed at her skin, it's nearly crimson, and she could still feel the sticky adhesive from it.

I had never felt so content. I could not wait to see what tomorrow would bring. —The End

Aidan smirked arrogantly, but he had underestimated the determination of a trapped bird seeking freedom. "Fine, I'll just play the video. I'm afraid that if I play the recording, you'll argue that it's not you in it." Scarlett held up her phone. As the screen flashed, my chest tightened. I covered her phone, stopping her from continuing. Scarlett struggled, wanting to keep playing it, but I was stronger than her, and she couldn't resist.

She noticed some welding marks on the bike frame, and they looked pretty new, not like they were fixed after an accident. She knew this might be a breakthrough, so she started carefully checking every corner of the frame. In a hidden spot at the back of the bike frame, she found a red string threading some coins, and there seemed to be some kind of mark on it. Amelia reached out and took out that broken red string. Wasn't this Coin Ghost Cord? Just by hearing the name, you knew what Coin Ghost Cord was for. Some money was for the living, and some money really was for the dead.

I moved to the closet and pulled the rope we used once—long ago—to play. It was thick, soft, and red. She liked red, she said it matched my cries. I stared at it for a long moment before wrapping it over my shoulder and heading toward the beam above our bed. We'd joked about it before. “Strong enough to swing from,” she said one night after a rough session. I laughed then, but right now; It wasn’t funny.

Seeing the young monk turn to leave, he quickly pulled out his phone. "I have money. Anything you need, I can pay. I just want a red string. I just want the master to give me one more red string so I can pay tribute to my late wife!" "I'm sorry," the young monk said. "But the master cannot grant your request. That red string was something Ms. Spencer earned with sincere prayers. You and she have parted ways, and it's time to let go. Holding on so tightly isn't good for you, for her, or for anyone."