Tales From The Foxhole Novels & Stories

When Megan raised her brows, she sighed, "Fine, I had to mute you sometimes because I couldn't really focus when you kept ranting about everything." Vanessa had returned from Paris a couple of days ago after representing her company in a business conference which lasted for a whole month. When she was in Paris, Megan used to call her everyday without fail and kept ranting about how clumsy her tinder dates were. At first, she used to listen to her best friend attentively, consoling her from time to time. But later when she got busy, she used to mute her most of the time. "I hate you," Crossing her arm in the front, Megan jerked her head to the other side.

Devouring those who dared to fight him, or at least try. Elika’s eyes scanned for anyone else who she held dear, but could only find Michael and Darren. The princess could tell the men apart easily, the one who had spoke first; Michael, had a large scar over his left eye, gaining it from some long battle he had fought years before. He was wearing strange black armour that Elika had never seen before, the leather-like material clinging to the man’s every muscle. Michael’s eyes were raven black, his short brown hair combat cut; seeming to match her brothers. The second man; Darren, had long blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. He wore similar black armour to Michael, the only difference a smal

But because I hadn't eaten much, I could only bring up bile and blood in the end. Involuntary tears fell as the strength left my body completely, and I fainted. … When I woke up again, it was early the next morning. I forced myself to take a shower, threw away all my clothes, and applied medicine to my infected surgical scars. Then, I fell back asleep. I was jolted awake by the loud bang of the door being flung open. Sofia walked to my bedside and threw a document at me from a distance. "Sign it."

"Okay, okay. Maia, make sure you scream nice and loud so I can enjoy the show too," Raul said. They said long-haul truckers were a crude bunch. I was seeing it firsthand now. I couldn't believe the things coming out of their mouths. My face was burning a deep crimson. For the rest of the day, I lay on the sleeper berth in the back while the two men chatted up front. Most of their conversation consisted of raunchy jokes and dirty talk. I tried to act uninterested, but they were so loud that every word reached my ears.

Just then, I could hear groaning, more like tussles of ranging elephants as bullets whizzed out of the building. The car's engine roared, as I anticipated his return. A few minutes later, I could see kids running out of the building, some running into the woods as fast as their tiny legs could carry them. How could I forget, Ralph was in the military before my dad asked him to take over one of his companies? Handling bad guys was much of his thing as he was experienced. “Where the hell are you, Ralph?” I asked my grip firm on the steering, my gaze darting around in search of him.

Paul ordered Keith and walked towards the counter. “DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY YOU OLD MAN!” “How dare you talk to me like that! Get out of my shop right now!” Mr. Paul exploded. “Shut up!” Keith pushed Mr. Paul, his head hit on the side counter and he died on the spot. “OH NO! WHAT HAVE I DONE! Mr. Paul! Mr. Paul!!!!” Keith was sweating and shaking when he realized that he had killed Mr. Paul. Keith rushed out of the shop and ran home because he knew everyone would doubt on him if he stayed there.

Some of them were jotting down notes, but I could tell they didn't really understand. The teacher continued to speak, but my mind was elsewhere. I was lost in my own thoughts, imagining myself leading my pack into battle with the knowledge I had gained. I saw myself weaving through the enemy lines, using our tactics to outmaneuver them and emerge victorious. If only just learning the tactics is enough for one to be reckoned with in the Dauntless Pack.

he said as he looked down at the wound and prodded the skin around it gently, soothing the red skin with his cool fingers. I couldn't believe the fucker actually tricked me. I felt like a toddler being promised Pepsi and getting a drink of cherry cough syrup instead. Callie still hid out in the bathroom. She apparently was squeamish around blood and wounds. "How does it look?" Callie asked from behind the bathroom door. "It looks alright. No infection yet," Alessio said with authority. I looked down at my abdomen where there was a small cut horizontal along my skin. "That doesn't look like a gunshot wound," I said. I furrowed my brow as I studied the wound. It looked like a knife cut as if a

The information she gleaned from the books perplexed her, but it didn't her all the answers she needs. She remembered the plane exploding, being sucked in by a vacuum-like force, and sliding off in a gut-like tunnel. She didn't see anything like it up on the hill. 'What could have swallowed her and dumped her like shit? 'Ugh,' she felt grossed out thinking of it.