Riddle Writer Novels & Stories

The above sentences are the thoughts of the author about what he thinks, but it is my duty to tell all the things he has in his mind. The space science and the beginning of the human era, why I always talk about the past, why I'm interested in the dead stories, why I tell a tale of another time, why I don't like the present and, also why I'm not narrating about those dumbasses who were about to close the mysterious case of random killing by an unidentified criminal (creature)? You might have so many questions and confusions about the fact that I puzzle a simple story in what we call a Riddle…? But you can still believe in me that I'll give you a gift tomorrow.

Anyway, your gift is a riddle. A riddle that can save one of your family members' life if you decipher it on time. If not, oh well, pity. The riddle is: You oversee all my crimes. You can’t tell me no, not a single time. You smile and accept all my laughter and all my lies, so please save me before I die. This riddle is not just a gift, it’s a warning to you and your pack. Stop acting over-smart. Your smartness will lead you to a fate you wouldn’t want for your pack. By the time you decipher this riddle, you will understand who you are going against.

HAYDEN “I know, but we can’t hide this field from everyone, and the more your uncle strictly forbids them, the more they’ll get suspicious and might steal them, which could lead to worse than minimizing it.” I shared with them my input regarding the field of mystical roses in public and added how the riddle would be written. “Write a riddle as a warning and an answer. Only a chosen few would be able to understand it, and the decision will be in their hands, not ours.”

We rushed to the keyboard on the desk, typed a few keys, and a drawer popped open with another note. "'The more of me you take, the more you leave behind.'" I frowned. "A burden?" "No." "Debt?" "No." "Childhood trauma?" Creed gave me a look. "…Footsteps." "Okay, Mr. Genius, go on." --- The riddles just got worse. By the 30-minute mark, we were lying on the floor. "This is stupid," I groaned. "Who has fun doing this?" Creed leaned his head back. "People who like puzzles. Problem-solving."

With trembling hands, I picked it up and tore it open. Inside was a handwritten note, penned by Valen himself. His elegant script danced across the page like poetry. It was beautiful yet the meaning of the words were as mysterious as the man who had carved them; "I am the bridge between two souls, In me, secrets find their goals. I hold the weight of hopes and fears, Yet fragile, I can shatter tears. What am I?" A riddle. My third trial was a riddle and I had only two days to figure it out.

I smirked at him. "That's good and smart thinking. Where's it?" He asked me. "It's not a literal map but a code. A riddle. The mystery is almost always needed to be solved by both the mage and the sage." I responded "So, what's the riddle?" He asked. "I don't know." "You don't?" "I don't." "How do we then solve it?" He asked me. "We hope I have the answers to it. The riddle will be written in over three different languages on the wall of the entrance. I hope I know one of the languages and I hope I can solve it. I will need to use the dark arts to even solve this riddle."

I read the riddle over and over again, piecing every clue in my head. It probably exists in the Winter. The hunters fear whatever this is And it is a creature What creature exists in the Winter and is feared by hunters? White tigers? wolves? Polar bears? I had three animals but just two chances to get it right. I went back to the riddle. What clue can streamline my options? I am colour and creature. Color? White tigers! I quicky typed out my answer in the space provided. And animated and overly exaggerated red X popped up claiming I was wrong.

He bent and lifted the petal,then fisted it and grinned. He really shouldn't do that. "You really shouldn't do that,"I told him. He ignored me and wrote his answer on the wall. I edged closer to see what it was. "Leaves?! The answer's LEAVES?" I exclaimed and push him on the shoulder.He doesn't move an inch. Strong bastard. Now the right third turns silver and the second riddle fades away.One more to go. "A word you know,six letter it contains,remove one letter and twelve remain"

Jenna cleared her throat, "I'm an author, well quite famous among limited circles," Jenna replied gracefully as if she was really famous. Adam frowned, "What kind of author? Limited circle? Do you write books on political economy or something?" Jenna chuckled, "I'm an online platform novelist! Huh, I'm quite famous!" Adam suddenly seemed to have an idea. "So you can pretend to be a famous Ghostwriter in America or England or whatever! So my mother won't be able to find your name. Ghostwriter won't leave any traces,"