Twisted Falls Novels & Stories

Twisted I always had fear of death ever since I became aware of the clock birthmark engraved on my left palm. I always hate celebrating my birthday because it always serves as a reminder that I'll die young. My parents told me that among our generations, I am very different because my two clock birthmarks have the same date. Because of too much curiosity, I tried researching and reading stories and blogs that tackle different painful tragedies.

She sprinted into the woods, her bare feet bleeding, her clothes torn. Branches whipped her face, rain blinded her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn't. Freedom was just ahead. She could feel it. Taste it. --- But Mason was faster. He tackled her from behind, slamming her into the ground. Claire screamed, thrashing wildly. Mason’s hand closed around her throat, squeezing. "You stupid little—" he hissed. Claire clawed at his arm, desperate. Black spots danced in her vision. She couldn’t breathe.

The way the thin lines of water came out of it, just to accumulate in the water in the base of fountain itself is magnificent. I turned back to look at the whole building and my mouth opened on its own. One word, no two actually. Very tall. * * *

** One year later. The twins’ first birthday was a whirlwind of balloons, cake, and laughter. Alejandro and Antonio—named after Andres’ grandfathers—clapped their tiny hands as the family sang, their giggles filling the air. Celia sat nearby, frail but smiling, her eyes shining as she watched her grandsons. Shortly after the twins celebrated their first birthday, the house was quiet. Celia lay in her bed, surrounded by family. Ainara held her hand while Santino held the other. Andres was there with Jaime, who couldn’t stop sobbing even though he knew this moment would come.

Clarissa groaned in mortification as Archer rushed over to her. "Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? Do you need to see the doctor?" Archer rushed out, his green eyes staring down at her with concern swimming in them. "I-I-I..." Clarissa stuttered but no other words agreed to leave her lips as she gaped at him. To save herself from further embarrassment, Clarissa took off towards the hotel entrance but slipped and fell quickly to the ground. Shutting her eyes tight, she mentally prepared herself for the fall. She almost hugged the snow once again when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist.

She asked in a sarcastic tone, making me laugh and I lifted her off the couch. "Wh--What are you doing, Nate?" she gasped in shock. "Time to explore some other places in your apartment." I smirked, making my way upstairs and she held on to my neck tightly. "I'll kill you if you drop me, Nate. I'm scared of heights." She started to freak out as I kept climbing up the stairs. "I've got you, baby girl." I winked, kissing her lips. The rest of the night went by blissfully perfect and I realised how much I craved her with every passing second. She was like a drug and I honestly couldn't get enough of her.

Eventually I spotted Igor, the son of my fathers friend Rocco (and my♡crush) across the street with his friends. They were standing under one of the many balconies overlooking the French Quarter. The Streets themselves were teeming with people embracing the spirit of carnival and I breifly gazed across the other side of the road, trying to mentally map out a route through the maze of half-drunk party goers. I struggled to make my way to the other side of the street. Carefully trying to avoid all of the parades floats and dancers. All of sudden the loud horn of a car jolted me back, causing me to knock into a float and fall down.

There was no staircase leading downstairs but…. She didn't let herself think about the height. She gripped the stone railing so tight her knuckles went white, and swung her legs over the edge. The stone was hot under her palms. The fabric of her dress hitched up her thighs as she found a foothold in the twisted vines. Her bare toes stung as they scraped against the rough wall, but she kept moving, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps. Halfway down, a vine snapped. She let out a choked sound, her fingers clawing at the wall until she found a new grip. She hung there for a second, her chest heaving, looking down at the drop.

To leave a trail they had to follow. I took off again—this time toward the aqueduct bridge that loomed over the river basin. From this point, one path would lead them straight west, away from the tunnels Alessia was headed toward. Come find me. Come waste your energy chasing a ghost while she’s right behind you. A crossbow bolt skimmed my shoulder, sparking hot pain but I didn’t let it slow me down. The bridge arched in front of me like a spine spanning the ravine. Narrow and perfect.

Luckily, my words didn’t sound too slurred. He smiled and turned to the bartender… who amazingly enough came right over. Everyone who had been waiting for a drink looked over, jealous. The girls kept looking at the guy holding my hand. There was something about him that made him impossible not to look at. If I hadn’t grown up around werewolves I would probably be staring at him too. Werewolves have this amazing ability to attract all the attention around them when they wanted it, and the older, more experienced ones could blend in like they were invisible if they needed to too.