Witch Wheel Novels & Stories

His movements were fluid, his focus sharp, and I had to admit—he was impressing me. But then came the last turn. It happened in a flash, and I saw it all in slow motion. The car wobbled—just a split second too late—and the back end began to swing out. My stomach clenched, and I felt my heart leap into my throat. Shit, he’s going to lose it. I watched helplessly as the rear tires slid out of control, the sound of screeching rubber echoing in my ears. But somehow—somehow—Pakin didn’t panic. He corrected just in time, his hands steadying the wheel with a precision I didn’t expect.

She wanted to ride, so she would ride! The manager was flustered. Was this girl serious? Diana noticed his concern and smiled confidently, "Don't worry, I've been riding for a long time. Do you want me to show you a trick?" Without waiting for a response, Diana grabbed the handlebars of the motorcycle, revved the engine, and lifted the front wheel off the ground, performing a wheelie around the garage.

I had been at this for four minutes, which was three minutes longer than it should have taken, and the ceiling was right there, twelve inches above the surface of the water, and that gap was closing. I sucked in a breath and pushed up off the floor, fingers working the lock above the waterline, eyes stinging, lungs already complaining. The sequence was 7, 2, 11, 5. I had gotten seven and two. The third wheel kept slipping back to nine, and I did not understand why until my fingers found a groove in the mechanism on the underside, damage, old damage, something that had bent the wheel slightly so that eleven required extra pressure from the left to seat properly. I pressed left and turned.

The rust began to flake away, dissolving into fine black dust as the silver alloy beneath reacted to the temporal lubricant. Ethan gripped the massive iron wheel on the side of the console. He braced his shoulders and threw his entire weight into the turn. *Groan... Clack... Clack...* The metal screamed in protest. The sound was deafening in the confined space, echoing down the dark tunnels like the wail of a dying beast. Ethan’s muscles strained, his veins bulging against his skin as he forced the stubborn wheel through its first full rotation. Behind the bronze panels, a massive pendulum began to sway, its slow, heavy ticks vibrating through the stone floor beneath their feet.

The white grid above us kept swallowing the ceiling, drop by drop, like milk spilling across a dark table. Leo was flat on his stomach near a massive bronze wheel that rose straight out of the floor. The metal wasn't plain; it was covered in deep, blocky grooves that looked like gears but didn't click into anything. His blue windbreaker was torn at the elbow, revealing a patch of red, scraped skin. He didn't look up as the white light grew brighter, his fingers tearing at three thick copper cables that were growing out of the base of the wheel.

She carried her and kept telling Nick to leave him and trying to explain to Nick who Adams was. Nick left Adams, turned to Danielle slapped her, it was so hard that her knees buckled on the impact of his palm on her face. Adams lost his nerve and landed his fist on Nick's Jaw and then a fight ensued. Adam was masculine and well built although not as tall as Nick but was a good match for him. People gather to watch as the drama unfolded getting their phones to make a video. after a few minutes of evenly matched punches and kicks, The security at the park came and separated them and asked them to leave, leaving the audience to decide who the winner of the pay-per-view event was.

Remaining Balance: 300] Swish—swish—swish! The wheel didn’t just spin once, it split into two smaller wheels, spinning side by side in a blur of color. The room filled with a faint humming sound, vibrating in his bones. (Two at once… c’mon, c’mon…) The first wheel slowed. Click. Click. Click… STOP. A glowing blue card floated out, pulsing faintly. [Trial Skill Acquired: Speed Enhance (One-Time Use)]

She murmured. “Come on.” He moved forward and helped her get seated. It was a powered wheelchair. She looked at the controls and turned the knob. It slightly moved backward. “Easy, easy.” He bent down to her level. “Here,” He turned the knob in the counterclockwise direction. “Do that to move forward. Opposite for backward. And shift this small gear for sideways.”

The red light on the terminal turned a solid, bright green. The magnetic lock inside the floor wheel snapped open. "Now!" Martha yelled. "Turn it!" Martha grabbed the top spokes. I lunged forward, locking both of my hands onto the bottom rim of the iron wheel, my raw fingers slipping on the old grease. Clara threw her weight into the side, her small palms pressing against the steel bar next to my shoulder. We pushed. The wheel didn't move. It was frozen by fifty years of mountain rust and lime scale. Outside, the winch cable went completely tight. The steel wire let out a high, singing whine as the truck on the high road started to pull. The deadbolt inside our door frame began to groan, the

"Haley, turn your dial to the left..." "Maeve, try yours to the right with one turn..." "Who has same symbol of crown? Turn one place and I'll turn to the right..." "My dial has this skull thing. Killian does you dial have the same shit? Let's get them meet half end..." The rusty wheels creak as we turn them, searching for the correct sequence. Gears grind against each other, the chains clanking loudly. Sweat rolls down my brow as time ticks out. We frantically twist and pull, our hands shaking as one by one, even just a little the gear slips into place with a satisfying click.