The Trash Of A Fantasy Novels & Stories

"You can stop dreaming because I won't have anything to do with you in the future. I'm curious, though. How thick-skinned do you have to be to say these things? Are you thinking of becoming my sugar baby or something?" "You can scream and shout at me or even hit me if you want—it's what I deserve. But please don't abandon me…" He looked at me like he was an abandoned puppy. "So, my dream was true! Since you're both back, you can go to hell together!" a shrill voice filled with hatred and resentment cut through the air. It turned out Jonathan, Henrietta, and I had all been reborn. Henrietta charged toward me and shoved me forward. The lake was unprotected, so nothing could stop my fall. I cou

They stepped inside, holding up their torchlights, only to be met with a room filled with garbage. The stench was unbearable, thick and suffocating. Amidst the filth lay a worn-out, grimy mat—it had been my bed. The only possession I had was a tattered doll I'd brought from home. The doll stood out in the squalor. Its age was apparent; the fabric was faded and patched in several places. Yet, it was clear the doll had once been cherished, lovingly repaired by its owner.

And who was the shadowy figure at the base of the cursed tree? The parchment, now inert, felt heavy in my hand, a silent testament to the impossible truth I had just witnessed. My journey, it seemed, was only just beginning, and the path ahead was shrouded in a darkness that promised both despair and unimaginable power.

I said calmly and Nadine shivered. “In that forest we were looking for the grimoire of my dreams,” Nadine said carefully. “I felt the power of the magic notebook, but it was minimal and the location was fuzzy. I don't know if that means anything, but the truth is that none of us were able to use its powers.” At that moment, I saw Aris's eyes widen sharply. “You saw the Fairy Wasteland,” my friend said and Nadine frowned. “That doesn't exist; it's not real,” Nadine replied defensively. “It's just part of a story that—”

"Do you see how pathetic this is? A fake black card! You can buy novelty metal cards like that on the internet for fifty bucks. Did you honestly think you could just drop a heavy piece of metal on the table and we'd actually believe you have five million dollars?" Tristan leaned forward, resting both hands on the back of his chair, staring at Maxwell with absolute disgust. "You are beyond desperate," Tristan sneered. "First you let your girlfriend buy your gift, and now you're pulling cheap parlor tricks to pretend you're a heavy hitter.” Patricia and the rest of Natasha's family had didn't say anything, but it was clear that they agreed with Tristan. Patricia for example simply shook her he

My face stayed blank as I tossed it straight into the trash. "That one was hand-knit by my mom. This piece of crap doesn't even come close." Elmer frowned when he saw the scarf in the bin, then sat down beside me. "I know. But the dead won't come back, Moira. What's gone is gone. Risa didn't mean any harm, and it was you who pissed her off first, wasn't it? Come on, don't be mad." He reached out like he always did, trying to pat my head.

My voice was gentle as I said, "How kind-hearted you are, Annie. You can even happily pick up the trash that I, Cecilia Forrest, throw away. Not only that, you've even managed to create a 'miracle of love' with it." Anne was trembling violently. She tried to shrink behind Jim. At the same time, she instinctively clutched her bulging belly protectively. Bending down, I leaned close to her ear and whispered, "But some things are rotten all the way down to the bone. You think you've won? "You slept your way to the top and then used your pregnancy to steal another woman's fiance. Do you think the Forrests will ever accept you? Or could it be that you plan on living your whole life in my shadow,

His metabolism was a mystery even to himself. “Where the hell does it all go?” Dante muttered, his eyes narrowing as if trying to figure Taiga out. Taiga shrugged, nonchalant. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Maya burst into laughter, his voice carrying across the room. “Maybe he’s got a secret portal in his stomach. Everything he eats just vanishes.” “Or maybe he just burns it all by yelling at people all day,” Dante added dryly, smirking. “Excuse you!” Taiga shot back, turning on Maya with exaggerated offense. “At least I don’t binge-watch terrible dramas and hog all the popcorn like a child.”

To her, that was worse than death. "Too bad, it's not up to you." Donovan waved, ordering, "Exile them to the Wastelands. They are never to set foot in any packs again." The Wastelands were a barren, desolate region in Northmere—no food, no water, only howling winds and savage beasts. Being sent there was synonymous with a death sentence. The Gamma warriors stepped forward, dragging the mentally shattered Falcon and the struggling Julia out like rugs. Walter remained collapsed on the floor, watching his son being taken away. After a night, he looked decades older.

A second later, another crate, this one filled with discarded catering waste and heavy glass bottles crashed down on top of me. Pain flared white-hot in my shoulder as a jagged piece of wood sliced through my shirt and into my skin. I tried to scramble upward, my hands sinking into a slick, nauseating slurry of overripe fruit, discarded hors d'oeuvres, and the cold, wet remains of the lilies Alaric had deemed unworthy. I was buried. I was at the bottom of a steel mountain, the "M" heights' most expensive refuse. "God," I choked out, the word muffled by a mouthful of dust and decay.