Scribble Showdown Novels & Stories

a tech mogul called from the back, raising his paddle. Natalie leaned into her mic, eyes twinkling. "Luciano, remind them why this isn't just paint—it's rebirth." He grinned, slapping the podium lightly. "This beauty captures chaos into triumph, much like our cause. Do I hear one hundred?" Bids flew fast: "One-ten!" from a pop star in sequins. "One-fifty!" countered a silver-haired collector. The room thrummed with energy, paddles slicing the air like swords.

It goes live in fifteen minutes. Sophia typed a quick reply — Proceed. But her hand shook as she hit send. Somewhere, far from the corporate tower, Alex saw the headline pop up on his phone. He read the statement once. Twice. Then tossed the device onto his workbench and muttered, “Stay away, huh?” He dipped his brush in paint and dragged it across the canvas — fast, furious, unplanned. Each stroke looked like her. Each color bled like memory. And when he finally stepped back, breathless and hollow, the mural looked nothing like what it had been.

It was terrifyingly… domestic. Then came the games. He unearthed an ancient, slightly warped Scrabble board from a closet. "Found it under a stack of Vincent’s dubious financial journals," he’d said, wiping dust from the box. "Dare we?" We dared. Curled on opposite ends of the vast, too white sofa, we battled with vowels and consonants. Adam, I learned, was fiercely competitive beneath the careful control. He’d frown at his tiles, drumming fingers on his knee, plotting obscure seven-letter words that landed on triple scores. I played defensively, blocking his high-scoring paths, building smaller, safer words. He accused me of tactical sabotage. I accused him of wielding the dictionary like a

Sihan ran as fast as he could towards the research club room. *** “Have you seen Alan? Why can't I find him anywhere today?” Anthony asked the club members who had come first. “Huh? we thought Alan would come with you?"James is confused too. In addition to Alan and Anthony, the other club members have been present since earlier. “Hh–You guys!” Sihan appeared in the clubroom with his breath out. “Have you read the announcement?” He looked panicked. “Announcement of exam results? You know we're not interested in that.” The response came from James.

She shook her head, snatching a yellow straight-edge. START HERE. She shoved the Scribble-note under my nose. Bossy for seven. I liked it. We built slow, pieces clicking like whispers. Me fumbling the inners, her pointing precisely with that crayon-stub. "Okay, genius, your turn. Where's the exit? Or is this one of those 'no way out' deals?" I waggled a red petal piece, teasing. She snatched it, fitting it perfect to a bloom I'd missed.

As long as the pair stood together, anyone could easily distinguish between Alex and Caleb. They said that a person's handwriting reflected their personality. Rebecca was curious to see how Caleb would forge Alex's signature. Before she could ask, the match had already officially begun. Rebecca was quite satisfied with yesterday's match, and now she was getting serious. She had some impressions of one of the teams, named Blindstrike. But she wasn't familiar with the other team. That team was the one that competed when she and Alex went out for dinner. It was now the match between the two victorious teams from yesterday.

She picked mine up — CHERYL TAYLOR in a fine serif font — and clipped it to my waist, just below the dip of my gown. Her fingers lingered a second too long. “This… is your ticket,” she said, then clipped on her own name tag. Her blonde hair spilled forward, catching a strand of mine as the two of us leaned in close. “And what kind of game are we playing, exactly?” I asked. Sabrina’s smile curved wider. “Hide and seek — but grown-up. And vicious.” Of course. “The rules are simple,” she continued. “When the lights go out — and they will — everyone hides. While you’re hiding, you try to collect as many name tags from other people as possible. Last person standing with everyone’s name tags wins.

Points for takedowns and style. “Sounds cardio‑intensive,” he muttered. “Hate that. Love that it doesn’t say ‘one of you gets sniped in the first five seconds.’” “After that,” I said, “we pick something strategic. Puzzle Gauntlet, maybe. Or Capture the Core. Somewhere, my brain and the pen can help without us all sprinting till we puke.” Corvin studied me for a beat. Then, I nodded once. “That,” he said, “I can live with.”

Occasionally, keep an eye out for surprise chapters dropping at 18:05 KST. I can say with absolute confidence that this is a genuinely thrilling and addictive ride. My only hope is that my devotion shines through every page. Thank you so much for embarking on this journey with me. Step into my world and enjoy the ride.

God. Everything was fine. Fair. Until the last page. Reasonable honestly. Then she froze. God. Because there was a drawing. Fair. A brand new drawing. Reasonable. Not hers. God. Definitely not hers. Fair. Just scribbles. Reasonable honestly. Lots of scribbles. God. Then one tiny stick figure. Fair. Then another tiny stick figure. Reasonable. Then a tiny circle. God. Everyone stared. Fair. Then Peanut pointed proudly.