Uncle Tom's Cabin Novels & Stories

Minutes later, Ichabod could hear a swift movement behind the shelves and out came a short man in a black tail coat and a large hat which made him look like all those wizards you see in movies like Harry Potter. “Ah! If it isn’t my old friend.” Johhny said cheerfully. “It has been a while since I last saw you. Are you having nightmares again?” “No.” Adams replied, “I would like you to meet someone.” He said, “this is Ichabod Nuel.” Johnny laid his eyes on Ichabod and scanned him from head to toe. A serious smile cracked upon his lips. “Ah. I can see you haven’t come alone young man.”

I walked into the cabin; it was the same as I had left it the last time I was here, only that it was dusty and cobwebs were everywhere. This is the end for me; it was only befitting that I died here, the very place where I felt safe in the world. I looked around at the place that used to be my haven before I lit it up. I had brought my first boyfriend to this cabin and we had made out, it was intense and innocent, leaving so many memories in this place. Then I remember this was where I had cried every night after hearing the arguments going on between my parents. I frowned suddenly, eager to burn it all down.

His wolf wasn't happy hearing that. "You are a beautiful child, sweetheart. You need to eat it helps you grow strong and taller. You're not fat munchkin, so don't listen to anyone that calls you that. I am your uncle, and I am very happy to meet you, "Tom says, smiling at her. She gets up, and we watch her walk over to him. She reaches out, and he gently lifts her up into his lap. Her little arms hug him, and I watch as tears fill his eyes.

In a small, dimly lit cabin nestled deep in the woods, two men sat at a worn table, their faces shrouded in shadow. The only sound was the crackling of the fireplace behind them and the soft rustling of leaves outside. One of them, a burly man with a scar across his cheek, dialed a number on his phone. After a few rings, the line connected, and a cold, familiar voice answered from the other side. "How’s everything going?" Uncle John’s voice was calm, but there was an underlying sharpness to it, like a man used to being in control.

But the fire had been dying, and the thought of another freezing night was unbearable. When the cabin came into view, my stomach twisted. The old wooden structure, leaning slightly to one side, was barely more than a shack. It had been my home for as long as I could remember, ever since my parents were killed. And inside waited Uncle, the man who had taken me in, though he never let me forget that he wished he hadn’t. I hesitated at the door, my hand trembling on the worn handle. The creak of the hinges sent a shiver down my spine as I stepped inside. The smell of stale alcohol hit me immediately, thick and suffocating.

Turning, I begin to move while the rest of the group follows closely behind, and when we arrive at Uncle William’s cabin, he is opening the door. “What’s going on?” He asks, looking around until his gaze comes to rest on the rogue. “And what the hell is that?”

But Joe convinced himself to stay looking fine in front of Clara. Joe: [Come to the library now.] Clara: [Wait, Uncle.] Joe: [What for?] Clara: [Does Uncle want hot chocolate?] Joe: [No, I want you to come to the library right now! Hurry, I'm waiting!] Clara: [Okay, Uncle, after making hot chocolate, I'll go to the library.] Joe: [Ok, don't take too long] The man smiled, then he put his phone in his pants pocket. Joe smiled, whistling happily as he left his room for the library. This was an opportunity, because when it rained all the occupants of the house would go to their rooms earlier than usual.

I replied, trying to conceal my true feelings and maintaining a composed tone, even though I was deeply upset with them. "Hey, about your father—I didn't want to come between you two by revealing his secrets to you," he continued, but I increased my pace, giving a clear hint that if he hadn't been willing to talk about it before, I didn't want to hear it now. We arrived at the cabin, and to my surprise, it looked really good. The brown wood was left unpainted, giving the cabin a natural and rustic feel. Inside, they had an array of weapons, and amidst them, I spotted Finch, tied up with his notebooks and pens placed far away from him. At least they had given him a new shirt.

My uncle was a fine specimen of a man. Not wanting to listen to them change positions and go at it again, I quietly trudged to my room, the sounds of their coupling accompanying me. Climbing up the stairs, I made it to my room and shut the door behind me, lying down on the bed. My pussy still throbbed but no amount of self pleasure will ever be the same as the real thing, and that was unattainable as my uncle was out of reach.

Carson asked angrily. Amber's eyes widened in shock because of what Carson said. "How dare you say that?" "Why? I'm right, Amber, aren't I? You seduced my Uncle because you are taking revenge on me. But I didn't expect that your revenge and using him had something to do with money. You're a gold digger—”