World Of Warcraft Fiction Novels & Stories

I focus my gaze into Hugh's eyes, my heart filled with apprehension and determination. "Hugh," I begin, my voice steadier than I expected, "I come from a different reality. It's like a place out of your world. This world is just created through the imagination of someone who’s from my world. It’s an eBook called Bonded—where you and Yvanna Bautista are the main characters. In other words, in my world, you only exist in a novel but not as a real human,... I mean a werewolf. I don't know if it's magic or witchcraft, but somehow I ended up inside the novel, your world."

Maybe he had some assignments that he needed to finish up. I got home and see that Miss Ronna and Liam is already sleeping soundly. I ate and went to bed as quietly as I could. It was past midnight when I was finally done and in bed. I took my laptop with me and read through some of the articles. I love to stay on top of current affairs. One of the articles was for a war that took place in South-Africa. They talked about werewolves and humans that went to war. What I could gather is that the humans were terrorizing other humans and even killing them. The supernatural world stepped in.

I once read in a book that drowning was a peaceful way to pass, just one intake of water and your lungs can no longer work properly. It's like going to sleep and never waking up. For a split second I thought about doing it, just to get the pain I was feeling to be over. my cold body and begging for a fresh breath of air. It reminded me of when I was five years old running in a big meadow full of flowers with a teddy bear in my hand as I laughed out of breath. That would have been the time where I would have lost if I were in a breathing contest. The water that surrounded me was growing warm against my skin, I felt as though I had been sweating. The blackness came soon after. My vision become

Before there were doors between worlds, there were stories. They whispered from hearth to hearth and ship to ship— of wolves that ran like midnight wind, of foxes with nine tails and nine more tricks beyond that, of fae who looked like carved moonlight and smiled like knives. Humans loved those stories—as long as they stayed in books and bedtime. The moment a story breathed, the moment a pair of eyes glinted from a tree line or a shadow stepped out of the corner of a room, humans did what humans do best when they’re afraid.

“It will be much like it was at the World’s Fair opening, Evelyn. Simply follow my lead. Can you do that?” Evelyn’s pulse kicked up a notch. Their trip to the World’s Fair had been like visiting an alternate existence. It went beyond simply politely 'familiar'. That had been an imaginary World of Tomorrow where the natural hierarchy and boundaries of wealth and social status had been erased, like the idealized Democracity or the egalitarian Futurama. Where people attracted to one another were free to explore that gift in each other's company without question.

“Understood.” Each man gave a sharp nod. “Okay, Malachi?” He took a breath. “I’m not sure how to go about this.” He paused and looked at Alec and then at Joe. They just stared at him, waiting for him to continue. “As children, you hear stories of fictional creatures that lurk in the woods. Well, some of the stories are true. We live in separate worlds, there’s the human world and then our world.” Connor snorted on the sofa. Joe punched his arm and stared him down.

After a moment of silence, he continued, “And I don't like those market guards even more. If they've gone too far, I might fight with them. I've read a lot of stories of mass killings and massacres, so when I see people just being insulted, it's normal for me.” According to Brockley, blood was created to be shed. And land was created to be fought over. To fight for land, it must be with bloodshed. "One way to go is by war. This world is indeed cruel to those who feel they are victims, like the two beggars earlier. When they feel oppressed, they will grumble about the fate that is often not on their side.” Brockley's philosophical and meaningful talk had made Riley's eyes even less sleepy. Th

Although my pulse was pounding with a mix of surprise, anxiety, and interest, I tightened my jaw and forced myself to remain still in order to maintain the steadiness of my voice. My inner historian came to life. Once, before I was overwhelmed by conflict, duty, and blood, I spent years poring over literature that most people wrote off as myths. Forgotten documents, half-burned scrolls, or broken tales carved into stone. Stories about creatures that formerly roamed with wolves but had disappeared so thoroughly that the world had dismissed them as myths. Stories about fire, blood, and elements that could bend to their will were whispered.

I have also noticed that I changed the way I write so, hopefully, I will still be able to write this novel the way I wanted it to be written since for these past days the novel itself was the one writing and it feels like it was just leading me, anyway, I will need your support, the votes, and even your comments! Since it is almost finished, I would be uploading special chapters. I am also working on a new novel right now, you guys are familiar with warlocks, right? They are basically necromancers, they also practice witchcraft. I will be publishing the book once I finished this one so stay tuned! Yours, fataldestiny