The Owl House Novels & Stories

Charlie Owen isn’t in the kitchen anymore when I come back down the stairs. The house is dark, with the exception of a soft glow coming from the screened-in porch. A single candle is lit and sitting on the table out there, and Owen’s back is to me as he looks at the fountain in the pond behind his house. There’s a light in it, making the simple fountain look much fancier at night than it actually is.

“Sorry, we’re fresh out of miracles. You new in town?” “Yeah. I moved into the Varyn House.” His grin evaporated. “You’re living there?” “Temporarily,” I said. “Unless the roof kills me first.” He hesitated, then bagged my things and added a flashlight. “On the house,” he said. “For when the lights go out.” “Why does everyone keep saying that?” He didn’t answer. If ghosts could have favorite hangouts, Willow Creek’s library would be it. Old wood, creaky floors, the smell of dust and time.

He said with a smile. Artemis's archery class was class one, like he'd called it, and his was class two. There was a part of the mansion which was as big as the main house. Unlike my room, when you're in it, it looked like a real jungle. Several trees grew it it, all thanks to Demeter. And the roof looked like the clear sky. Apollo made a duplicate sun in it, which shone brightly In the afternoon, and Artemis made a duplicate moon, which was visible at night. You could hear birds chirping, it was serenity.

I drew the line when his talons got to close and nicked my shoulders. "Ow! Knock it off!" He would not be stopped, however, and I was slowly propelled toward the door. "Hey, calm down!" I said, pushing against the door, "If you want me to go in, you better cut it out now!" Surprisingly, the owl stopped pushing me and settled back on the lantern. He ruffled his feathers, smoothed them, then purred again. I put my hand on the large, polished handle, hesitating to enter. Though I was intrigued by the old-fashioned feel of the house—I'm a sucker for antiques—I could not figure out whether or not someone was actually here.

I let out laughter, bringing my hand to tap over the slender thin fur-coated creature. Oriel is my pet Weasel since way back, and together with the rest of his many brothers and sisters, we make a family of our own. The hooting of an Owl distilling the night air also retrieves my smile and I turn in time with a large grew and white Owl gliding down in the air. I shriek, mixing my footing and falling back to land on my butt with a wince. With a faint frown on my face, I regard the large bird perching on my shoulder, “Hey, that’s no friendly greeting at all”.

Swirling prisms of glittering opaque colors. Gliding across the sky, weaving in and out of the overhead canopy, a large owl circled the great stone house built into the high cliffs. A second owl, then a third appeared, silently making lazy circles above the branches and the rambling house. A lone wolf, quite large, with a shaggy black coat and glittering eyes, loped out of the trees into the clearing. Out of the darkness, on the balcony of the rock house, a figure gilded forward, looking out into the night. He opened his arms wide in a welcoming gesture.

I look around the room, there was no light, just a single window, and a faint light illuminating some of the room. “What the hell is this place?” I move deeper into the room, from what I'm able to see there is nothing in here but a single chest in the corner of the room. I move closer to the chest and bend down to near it. It was an old wooden chest, similar to the ones depicted in movies. I reach out and open it, a rat jumps out toward me as I jump out of the way. I look inside to find nothing but rat-dropping and dust bunnies.

Olive forwarded the manuscript to the dubbing host and said, "d******d the host's dubbing yourself later, and call me if you have any questions. I have to get back to writing the outline." "Okay." Andrew began his show, "Loneliness is the only way for the strong!” "…" Olive didn't work overtime today, so she went home after writing the outline. Opening the door, Olive habitually reached out to touch the switch and suddenly found that the light was on. She paused and glanced subconsciously at the position of the sofa. The living room was still empty. There were several more shoeboxes on the porch, which were now built into several floors high and neat.

Minnow spitted venomously with lips curled over teeth. Saylor's glare fell on his lap, and his shoulders slumped. He knew better than to try to speak to her at this moment. "We recruit a new hunter each year," Cecil said calmly over his shoulder. "Hunter? What do we hunt?" Minnow turned to her father for answers. "Well, we hunt, um." He stuttered. His eyes searched his wife. Dovie rolled her eyes. " We hunt werewolves and other supernatural beings," she said simply without batting her perfectly styled eyelids. Instead, she continued flicking through the stack of papers in front of her.

I closed my eyes, taking deep, steadying breaths until the phantom scent of the General stopped screaming in my mind. When I finally calmed down, I opened my eyes. "The fuck!" I shrieked, jumping back so hard my spine cracked against the wood of the door. Lying flat on my bed, propped up on his elbows with his chin resting in his hands, was Oliver. He was a pretty, petite Omega with a head of messy curls and pretty blue eyes, and he was currently looking at me like I was a highly entertaining holovid. "You really need to lock your balcony doors, Theo," Oliver said, kicking his feet back and forth. "It is way too easy to climb up here."