For every effect, there is always an aftereffect. This is a realistic, scientific concept.
A new dawn has brought about fresh challenges for humankind. Over time, we have found a way to make our bodies evolve to be self-reliant and self-teaching. This is a time where food and water for survival sounds just as primitive as dinosaurs. An age where the phrase, “anything is possible” is quite literal.
The 23rd century was when science began to prevail in breaking this limitation for humankind. We created an evolution enhancement, technological device that was able to make the mutation happen one hundred percent of the time. Our era has brought about what humanity believed to be closest to one of immortality; unless you are physically harmed by another equally advanced human capability, nothing else can hurt you. That includes gunshots to any part of our bodies or non-morph animal attacks, as we are now immune to most things.
The human era came to a point whereby the only way humans could kill one another is through their morph ability’s power, although one can use technological advantage to gain the upper hand.
However, unbeknown to mankind’s wildest dreams, we as a generation were not ready for the things our man-made, sped-up evolution brought to the table. I know I may
come out as babbling now but hear me out, you see.
The immortal era brings to light concepts of problems we did not realize could exist in our reality. I have lived long enough to know life is filled with beautiful concepts of brutality that blinds us from its reality.
Mankind has significantly and unnaturally stepped up its evolutionary process that spiraled out of control in terms of having the necessary means to keep our world a law- abiding one. We now live in a way by which many believe has always been; natural selection, where it is the survival of the fittest game.
Senil Tusflier sat on his diamond-bronzed throne of the coliseum in Mau, the capital city of the Maahes Kingdom as he watched the wrestling match between his two comrades
with delight; Madgar The Beast ran towards Lucil in order to grapple her and toss her with strength that earned him his by name. Lucil defended herself by shifting into her human shaped, lion-self midair so she could land and balance on her fours. Angry, Lucil roared as she turned back in her tall, well-exercised, human form and ran towards Madgar for the attack.
Senil leaned his body forward from his throne as he intensely enjoyed watching his first comrade begin a series of attack moves that were too fast to defend by his towering, beastly looking guard.
Lucil who was well known for her fast feet and rightfully so as she proved it once more when she used Madgar’s solid body as a stepping medium to lift herself high up so she could gather enough force to deliver a massive knee kick to The Beast’s forehead. Madgar could not help but fall to the ground. Many were present in the room, including the one who has steadily led the vast group
of the powerful race, Senil The One. He cheered for yet another win for Lucil The Commander.
At the far end of the community from where the thrill- thirsty Lion-Human races cheered for a more vicious spectacle, sat a much calmer group of the same community. Fathers, mothers, and mostly children alike were just as happy to be around The Storyteller. They all gather around Mack Lite, surrounding him as closely as permitted. The much older man sat patiently as many people formed a crowd around him.
“Hey Mack!” Shouted a young boy’s from within the crowd, “We are all here. Can we begin the story now?”
“Yeah…” Almost everyone present shouted and cheered in agreement.
Mack smiled at their reaction, “I am delighted you have all grown to like my stories. In truth, I have also grown to enjoy you all around me.” Mack The Storyteller, who was in
is old age at life, moved around in his electrical powered wheel chair.
“Would you like to hear a story about love?”
While most of the people cheered in agreement, some parties did not but were just as interested.
Mack Lite was popular for his delightful stories. He is, unofficially. the storyteller of Senil’s kingdom. Mack enjoyed telling his stories every evening but the town market was where most of the residents came to hear his tell of a new tale. Also, others who lived far away connected through several multi- media outlets to participate in what has now become the most efficient and successful way to reunite almost if not all the Lion- Human race at once. One of the many stories Mack Lite told was a story of how truelove wins: “Ready or not here is the tale. Once upon a time, there lived a man who had a very beautiful daughter.
The Daughter was so beautiful that most men say she was one of the few angels who survived the fall from heaven. The father of this girl was very happy because at the time, when the girl is mature enough, suitors from all over the world will come to ask for her hand in marriage.
They offered gifts of many kinds to the father. The father was confident he would become very wealthy for as of that moment, he was very poor.
When the time came for the man to give his daughter away, many people came as predicted to ask for the daughter’s hand in marriage. The father quickly became rich because of the numerous gifts that he had collected from the wealthy suitors.
The father was happy for the good luck and fortune that his daughter had brought to him. He decided he would choose three of the wealthiest men that had come to ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage, so that his daughter may choose the one she wants to marry.
All the while that the father of this amazingly beautiful girl was choosing what he thought was a right suitor for his daughter, the girl sat in a room. She was not happy about all the men that had come. She did not care for choosing the man she would be with for the rest of her life by the money he had but with her heart.
As she sat in her new room, for one of the suitors had bought her father a big house, one of the servants, who was also a gift from one of the suitors, came in to be of service. He was about to leave the room when he asked for the girl’s permission to speak freely.
The girl granted this permission and he said ‘I know that I do not have enough money to win your heart, but if I had the slightest possible chance to have you as mine, I will not dare to buy you from your father for you are worth more than the most precious stone the world has to offer.’ The girl fell in love with him and they ran away together to live happily ever after.”
The crowds were satisfied at yet another good story by The Storyteller.
Amongst the crowd now sat the well-groomed, bearded, six foot tall, heavily toned, muscled leader, Senil and others who had stopped their form of play to come listen to Mack tell his tale of delight…
Category: Shape shifting, Fantasy books about shapeshifters
It was 18th of January, 1996 at twelve midnight on a cold morning. I, Christopher Flier, sat on the 23rd floor in my well-earned and deserved position with Bella G Writers. It is a publishing company in Paris. I am a well-known, five-time award winning bestselling novelist.
On that day, I remember I had a Cuban cigar stuck between my fingers while my other hand held a glass of debonair white rum.
I held it for longer than a minute as I pondered for ideas.
Before I continue with my story, I should tell you that I am a tall, dark skinned and mildly built forty-two-year-old man. I would also like to add that I have been carrying an item with me since I found it as a boy.
I ran my hand through my dark curly hair as I looked at the bright computer screen. Reading part of my work to myself, the book was named Eternal Transformation:
Vick Scaner sat on the porch by his television asking himself, “is it better to have loved and lost than to not have love at all?” He could not answer that question amid his present situation. “Barbra was the only girl for me, and she left me at the altar for my friend,” Vick complained in distraught.
Vick was a 35-year-old, five foot and six inches, overweight sales manager at a car company. His girlfriend, Barbra had been cheating on him for the past five years that they had been together. Furthermore, she was controlling and always maltreated Vick. He was infatuated with Barbra. He over-looked a lot of tells that Barbra was not committed to the relationship. She always made excuses as to why she could not make several of their mutually planned dates.
Vick always thought she travelled a lot for her job. She was the secretary to Vick’s best friend, Leroy. It was a job that Vick had helped her get. Although Vick had a feeling that Leroy and Barbra might be having a fling, he convinced himself otherwise and decided he was paranoid. It was not until the day of their wedding, two weeks ago, when he was left at the altar that he realized he should have addressed his concern in a more serious manner.
Vick, who had been friends with Leroy longer than he had been with Barbra, was depressed beyond words. He watched his once beloved girlfriend, Barbra run away with his one of few friends, Leroy. When the heart-broken man asked why she did such a thing to him, all she could say was: “Leroy is more of a man than you could ever be.” Those words have been ringing in Vick’s head for the past two weeks since the incident. All he did since that time was drink and eat thereby making him gain 20 more pounds to his already overweighed body of 250.
I got interrupted by a phone call from Debra Pire, a friend. Luckily for you, I had my part of the phone call recorded: “Hello. Hi how are you?” I said. “Oh yeah, I cannot make it tonight, how about we see each other tomorrow. Okay. Have a good night mademoiselle.” I also became aware of how late it was. So, I called it a day and got ready to take the drive home to Neuilly, Paris.
There is a reason I chose to start to tell you my story at this period. It was that my drive to Neuilly, one of the suburbs of Paris started to become exceptionally liberating for me.
Although marvelous sights of well- designed architectures such as the Château de Neuilly and the richly enhanced regions in the city are worth my wihile, i was happy for a different reason.
The reason for gaieties on my ride home from work is that I get to see the beautiful Miss Laureen Risling again.
Don’t worry, you will understand what I mean soon. Let me tell you about the first time we met.
December 30, 1995 came with a breezy and sunny morning. It was on a Sunday. I was at the Le Marché Biologique, an open street market that opened every month. The marketplace was a combination of farmer’s market and freshly baked delights. I saw a slim hourglass figure from afar. I got closer for a better look and I was not disappointed. She was in a long, slim-
fitted, beautiful, blue dress. I remember that she had just gotten three fresh, sweet-smelling baked baguettes.
I manipulated my way to get closer to her and to my surprise she was more astonishing than I thought. I loved the way she articulated her words as she spoke to the vendor; her voice was tantalizing.
Fortunately, enough there was an accident that made Miss Risling almost drop one of the bags. Especially the one with three pieces of long bread. I was able to grab hold of the bag just in time. We began a conversation. I always imagined someone I am acquainted with talk the way she did.
That was a good day.
I got home. I lived in a well- furnished high-rise apartment. Imagine a parlor that is all white walled
contrasted by an all-night black granite, tiled ceiling and floor. The room was tastefully furnished with dark red furniture and low fluorescent lighting most of the time.
The bedroom was nice too. For me, it was especially gratifying for the painting on the ceiling; depicting the creation of Eve that is ironically inspired by Michelangelo famous creation of Adam.
My thoughts of Laureen Risling had me in the best of moods. I thought a lot about her captivating brown eyes and attractive smile. I still do in fact.
Her first words to me were ‘merci monsieur’, which literally means “thanks, sir” and here is what I said; you might want to listen carefully: “No Merci d’ avoir ajouter de beaute a la
place” which translates to, “no, thank you for adding beauty to the place.” That, my friend, is right timing.
So, I went back into the parlor to do what was now the highlight of my day.
It was watching a live feed of Laureen Risling’s apartment.
I had it installed during the times she was not home. I knew because I stalked her for a bit. I wanted to know what her daily schedule was like.
Bypassing the house security system was relatively easy. I had to doa lot of these for my previous job. The day after our brief interaction together at the market, I followed her home. It was easy as she came to the market on the public bus. I followed the vehicle from a safe distance until she got off at another bus stop. I parked at a distance from her and watched with my powerful binoculars. She waved the bus good bye and loudly said, “Merci beaucoup”, which means thank you very much. She then politely greeted the people by the bus stop, and proceeded to take a seat…..
(*skipped few paragraphs due to explicit content)
…..It was not safe to follow, but as I already knew most of her path, I did the rest of the search on the internet. I had also already set my timer so I could make the necessary calculations. It was about twenty minutes away from the market and roughly forty-five to my home.
Over the weeks when she was out of the house, I managed to get inside and did the necessary adjustment. I found a treasure and I am not about to lose it, you know.
Her home was a modernly built beautiful white bungalow with a dark red door which was decorated with variety of flowers. I especially like that hers was well-polished, smoothly
and well done ceramic flooring. It went well with her wine-colored walls. She has paintings of what I thought was from the local around. It was nice. Her home was spacious and well designed. I was able to place a listening micro device on the hard-black, leather chairs as it camouflaged perfectly in it. I placed my cameras away from where the lights could reflect. It was easy enough. As they say in some parts of the world, “This is not my first rodeo.” She was perfect I tell you. I watched her all night sometimes but most of the time, it was until she fell asleep.
I am unorthodox. Dare I say “criminally” invading her privacy was for a good reason. I am only demonstrating my undying interest to her. Any girl would appreciate that. As soon as I switched off my TV, I turn on my computer to work on my book. I always had a small window open at the top left corner of the computer. This allowed me to watch my beautiful Laureen sleep.
Continue reading one of our best fiction books for Olamide Ojo-
The name is Gabriel Marion for now. We may have met before but I highly doubt it is by my new names.
Time does help to heal things but sometimes not fully.
I have not written since my last “death”. As you may have already guessed, I used to be Christopher Flier.
To be as straight forward as possible; the person Debra Pire shot was not me.
The man she sniped down begged for a living by the side of the road. He was insignificant enough to be forgotten by society and perfect to be my bait. His name was Michael Pirie. I was one of the only few people who cared enough to give him money and buy him food on regular occasions. He thought I was being nice. However, I was only doing that because his looks, body shape, and size were similar to mine. He was simply an investment that paid off:
“Bonjour Monsieur,” Michael respectfully greeted me as usual.
“Bonjour Michael, how are you doing today?”
“I am doing great sir, merci,” Michael said in a thick French accent.
“I left my suitcase in my car,” I said to Michael. “Bring it to me, will you?”
“Yes sir.”
“Here.”
I took off my long, black suit and fedora. “Wear this so people would not think you are stealing my car.” I smiled as I said that. Michael smiled back and took the suit and fedora. He had such joy in his eyes wearing those things.
He was more than happy to do my bidding. I noticed that he liked that I trusted him enough to send him on that type of errand. He laughed and thanked me.
“À bientôt Monsieur!” Michael uttered, saying he would see me soon.
I nodded my head in response as I watch the man running, in a hurry, to take my place in death from the hands of my former partner. At that moment, I observed a few seconds of silence for my dear bait. I was not bothered enough to write a poem on his behalf, but I wrote one that night:
Dreamer
I need that capable enough to quench my starving soul’s thirst
I need that capable of directing me to the path of joy
I need that capable of making the mirror image of myself in my mind always perfect
I need that capable of turning my sorrows into strong motivations for the pursuit of happiness
I need that capable of bringing peace to the monsters that lives in my head
I need that powerful enough to make words move like water into the minds of the thirsty
I need that which makes me undefeatable at all times compulsory and deemed necessary
I need my strength wisdom and spirit at the highest of levels never dreamed possible or attainable
I want to be a force difficult to surpass
I want to be proud of the world because I helped build it to betterlaity
I want to be able to make words like betterlaity
I want to win all my failures over to the side only champions know about
I want to belief in a better world than this present one I want to help make a difference
I want to be differently unique
I want to be genuine at all times
I want to become a better man through the way I treat the reality I live in
I want to break the rules of limitations and veer off towards dream thought impossible
I want to be an impossible phenomenon in this world of mine
I want to shine
My needs and wants are the same to me
So by the power invested in me through faith and serendipity,
I need what I want, and I want what I need
Ihaven’tnotified Debra of my well-being, but I’m
sure she knows. The event went to easy to have been me she shot dead that way.
I had recently been working on building a profile on a chatting website under the name Gabriel Marion. Also, a few minutes before I started writing this very paragraph, I mailed a parcel out to her under Debra’s new name, Sophia Trucia, so she knows I am coming.
I know this because it was one of those things we did, while we were assassins and lovers. Debra and I made each other ten lists of somewhat unique names that we get to change into, if need be. We promised each other no matter what happens, we will always use it.
All I had to do was search the several names and thoroughly investigate the identity of the individual. Since I addressed my parcel from the name Gabriel Marion, I am certain she knows where I am too.
If Debra agrees to my terms contained in the parcel, we shall both be in touch:
Sophia Trucia,
I see you, and I am sure you see me too. Let us play a game; we both write through the same medium for our chronicle’s sake until death does one of us apart. If you agree to my terms, the next chapter shall be yours to write.
The parcel also, contains information that has an exclusive website I created. The website can only be accessed by one person at a time, and also with one password; the combination of our previous last names starting with mine. This means you are able to create personal messages in which only you can access it. I am sure you can figure it out.
I hope you are glad you did not find a bomb in the parcel, because I seriously thought about it. But that will be too forgiven on my path.
With hunting pleasure,
Gabriel Marion.
…
…
Chapter 2
Gabriel Marion
Username: Sophia Truce
Christopher, my Christopher lives. The most beautiful man I have ever came across lives on!
Christopher never ceases to amaze me. Admittedly, I felt the greatest sense of relief, when I figured he was still alive. But then I started to become angry when I think about the aguish I had to go through, when I thought he was dead.
Nevertheless, this parcel came at the right time. I am beginning to get extremely bored with my living condition. I have been hired as personal assistant to the German ambassador for Italy and his wife. It pays well. The fact that I am having a secret affair with one of them made it worth my while for a bit. Mr. Von Sandova Roy thinks his wife; Patricia is at her book reading session, when she
meets with me. Mr. Von was no saint either. He had been asking me on several dates since the second week I was hired. I recorded several of his advances towards me and offered to sell each copy to him for a million dollars a piece. I have sold three so far.
However, Patricia was a different case. I had to seduce her. Her beautiful face, gorgeous smooth skin and well-rounded buttocks was a good distraction from my worries. I like that she was also, well-manicured, with excellent pedicures, and has straight white teeth.
I am sure she is in love with me.
“Why do I feel like my life just begun?” she says to me last night. “Let us run away together Sophia. You and I anywhere you want.”
“You are the wife to a German Ambassador,” I said in my flawless British accent. “That may be difficult to pull off.”
“In the short time you have been with us… No, in the short time you have been with me, I have felt nothing but joy with you.”
“Let us, forget about our worries for now and enjoy the moment,” I said as I kissed her long enough to make her quiet.
I had to shut her up. Her high infatuation for me had been easily mistaken for real love.
I don’t say I blame her. It was a sensitive period in her life as she so puts it. Patricia was getting tired of her loveless
marriage with a husband that constantly cheated on her. It was simply perfect timing for me. All of the happening between the couples further makes my job secure with them until I deem it.
But now, I think I can bare it a lot longer. I have taken it upon myself to carefully secure this particular part of the site that I am using, to write, so other users including my Christopher will not easily have access to it.
Dear Gabriel Marion,
I propose a new start Gabriel. I did not realize how much I enjoy you in my life until you went missing from it. You and I have shared similar uniqueness in our life experiences. That makes anything possible between us.
You can keep denying it whole heartedly angel but you cannot deny your feelings for me anymore than you can deny the blue sky. That is why pulling the trigger after I shot her, felt impossible to your nerves and why there is no bomb in the parcel you sent.
I knew something was off about the man you sent in your place the instant he stepped into my range. It was easier to pull the trigger because of that.
However, after a while I let myself believe it was you I shot and felt an overwhelming sense of sorrowful displeasures. I hated those periods, Gabe. I am angry at you because of it. You need to make it up to me.
I propose a date. Anywhere you want darling.
From lovely,
Sophia Trucia
I have been saving up some money for a while now, courtesy of my employers. Now that I know Christopher is planning something, it’s time to get more and move on.
Nevertheless, I sincerely hope Chris says yes to my proposal.
…
…
Chapter 3
Start Over She Says
Username: Gabriel Marion
I wonder how Debra could pass to be a maid for that long; at least a good one. I can only imagine the type of havoc she would be causing in that family.
I am afraid she is wrong about me as she feels as if I will not kill her when I do get the chance again. She mistook my hesitation as a sign for my affection for her. I was simply too shocked to pull the trigger. I am going to have to prove that fact.
Gone are the days when I naively made Debra my light. Her illusory light showed it true colors and pierced my already darkened soul further into its abyss.
But in truth, I sometimes wonder why killing Laureen right in front of me was not enough to fuel my anger towards ending Debra’s life when I had the chance. I hope it is not true but if it was, I will hate to admit my undying infatuation for Debra.
When I start to think about the reason why my body and mind would still have any form of feeling for her, I realized that it was hard for me not to.
I have a unique mind-set. To find someone that understand and somewhat similar to it is indeed a rare find. That is what Debra was to me- my rare find. At one short point in our lives together, I gave her my all as she also gave me hers. We were so close that I freely told her about my picture; the mildly damaged picture that I had in my possession since childhood. I could remember her reply like it was yesterday:
“You are my beautiful weirdo.” She says laughing and playfully kissing me. “Well now you got me.”
It was the first time anyone truly knew and accepted me.
Debra claims she loves me. If that is the truth, then her situation makes me understand people love in different ways; selfishly, unconditionally, conditionally. In Debra’s case, her love is insanely dangerous. The closer you are to her cupid-poisoned arrows, the more probable you are to get hurt.
I was getting low on funds so I began to do my research on possible heist since contacting either of my previous employers was not an option. Going in the direction of Art was the most feasible choice since it was Florence
At this period in time, I have been trying to get my hands on one of the only recognized replicas of Michelangelo’s painting. It is owned by a very influential tycoon here in Florence named Adriano Lean. The only viable way of getting through is ridiculously tight security would be through dating his daughter, Abelina Lean.
Abelina Lean is beautiful, slim, brown-eyed twenty-five- year-old who thinks the world of me after about four days of our path crossing. Her long black hair goes perfectly with her smooth skin. I like her complexion as she was half-caste; her father, Mr. Adriano Lean was Italian while her mother Bairavi Lean was Indian.
I have been talking to her for some few weeks now. Things are going well enough. I have a feeling I will get an invitation to her home soon.
I had done my research and observed her movements well enough to know where I could run into her. Of course she thinks it by “faith”:
“I feel like I have known you all my life.” She says to me the second week after we met. “I want to be with you Gabriel.”
“I feel the same way Abelina,” I said as I kissed her while I drove her around Florence in the custom-made convertible Fiat we rented “just because it’s Friday,” she says. “We have only just met but I understand how you feel because I am starting to feel the same way”
“Really!?” she sounded so excitedly. “That’s great! Ah…”
Abelina started to repeatedly kiss my cheeks as we drove. I couldn’t help but laugh. I also have to admit; she sometimes reminds me of my beautiful once upon a time that is Laureen Risling.
“How about we spend a week together just you and I, at your father’s house,” I began as she had told me her parents were currently away on vacation. “That would make me less nervous, when I do eventually meet your parents.”
“Okay baby,” Abelina smiled.
My intention for Abelina was to end her life, after my mission was complete. However, unknowing to her, similar characteristics with the angel I used to know, has saved her life from my itchy trigger finger.
Now, my plan is to keep in touch with her even after the job is done. She would be another investment that may pay off in time.
I have recently purchased a new speech-to-text recording device, which I will have in my possession at all time, while with Debra. The newly upgraded portable recorder is able to recognize different distinct voices. It could translate words into speech of about two hundred languages. It’s good to have for both my writing and assassin professions. I also, want to record and have proof of every moment, when I do get to meet with Debra.
During my last moments in France, as I had already made my plans to leave the country, I got rid of everything I couldn’t take with me. I shredded or deleted most of the copies of the manuscript I was working on for the company, Bella G publishers. Authorities had been informed of it by the company as they had rights to it. They wanted it, if they found it in their ongoing investigation, so I destroyed or deleted most of my copies but one.
The remaining one, is the copy Debra now has. It is important that I get it back. It was one of the last things Laureen did before she died; read Eternal Transformation. I can remember the genuine excitement in her eyes and voice when she said, “I love it baby!” I will get it back.
Dear Sophia,
Remember the first time we met in the
Caribbean? I had a gun to your head. When I realized you
were the one the job specified not to kill, I was relieved. Because you were the most beautiful thing I ever lay my eyes upon.
Now that time has passed by, and we have lived with and for each other. I sometimes find myself wishing I pulled the trigger then. And then there are those times, when I reminisce about our first everything together. If I were to admit that my body found it difficult to shoot you, it will be because of that. But as it is true for everything else, things changes.
As for the invitation, I will like to meet with you too. Let us, meet two months from now. I will come to you.
A child has been born without the portal through which magic comes through. In a place such as Sinterobe where necromancy is the only way of life, surviving may be futile.
Chapter 1 Sinterians
Best novels to read:
Family Drama- Fight for Sinterobe Best novels to read
In a place far away, known by the name Sinterobe, the state of normality is to be born as beings of necromancy. Some of the more powerful beings of Sorcery proved their dominance to those who fell short of their sorcery strength by way of a portal, in which the gift of necromancy passes through. The portal of Kai. Those who are of lesser power suffer the consequences of what their fate handed to them. “This has not happened before,” Ino said as he addressed the citizens of Sinterobe. “If we let it stay, then it shall surely repeat itself. Let us rid ourselves of this vermin.”
“Two things ascertain ones failure in Sinterobe: born with a broken Kai or eventually getting a broken Kai. Until now, there has not been a recorded incident of a child born without the portal.”
As a master of manipulating fire, water, and a highly learned authority in the craft of wizardry, Ino was powerful enough to turn Sinterobe into dust if unchecked. Ino is a highly respected member, and well-known for his work at the empire’s University of Magmaveth.
“Let us keep the Vermin talk to a mute. The child is protected until this matter is settled appropriately,” Bantuli replied as got up. The room, called the Sinter room, was magically large enough to fit all of Sinterobe. As this was an event that has not happened before, almost every Sinterian citizen was present.
Bantuli has a gift of immortality. He was not the only one in Sinterobe gifted with living forever. However, the only one in which a cup of water from his hand, willingly and purposefully given, is capable of keeping anyone alive for decades at a time. That is to say, Bantuli was a significant member of the society, one that Ino is forced to be respect if he wanted to stay alive.
“You think your friends mediocre spell can stop my rage from consuming that entity if I so will it!?” Ino said angrily. Ino’s slim, rough-looking, but sophisticated appearance, together with is Kai’s strength, commanded fear and respect from most Sinterians. Rastabald and Bantuli were one of the few exceptions.
“Watch your tongue boy, or has your mind let you forget what happened the last time you tried to challenged me?” Bantuli commanded. “You will eventually need my help to stay alive.”
“You think your friends mediocre spell can stop my rage from consuming that entity if I so will it!?” Ino said angrily. Ino’s slim, rough-looking, but sophisticated appearance, together with is Kai’s strength, commanded fear and respect from most Sinterians. Rastabald and Bantuli were one of the few exceptions.
“Watch your tongue boy, or has your mind let you forget what happened the last time you tried to challenged me?” Bantuli commanded. “You will eventually need my help to stay alive.”
Bantuli reminded Ino of his mortal soul and why his words, and world, superseded him.
“If I ask and you don’t give, I will turn you and Sinterobe into ashes!” Ino yelled.
Spells were casted from every corner of the empire by the many citizens of Sinterobe towards Ino to show their disgust at his threat to the empire’s dearest “treasure”.
Spells with minimal damage were legal to cast without the need for official declaration. It was considered to be crucially important for the self-defense of Sinterobe. Ino braced it all and sent some back. All through the altercation, Bantuli was protected by everyone else.
“Enough!” Rastabald ordered, her voice booming to the far reaches of the massive room.
All of Sinterobe had mastered spells to hear and answer the call of the one with the gift of manipulating the time of anyone she is emotionally vested in.
“Unless, you want to make me angry,” Rastabald continued, “you will be quiet and do what Bantuli tells you.”
Rastabald is, undoubtedly, one of the most powerful in Sinterobe. The respect that came with being the sister to Maveth, the royal queen of Sinterobe, was enough to fear the blonde master necromancer. Unfortunately, Rastabald was mortal. She became one of the many who Bantuli needed to stay alive.
“Of course!” Ino replied fast and loud. “I am not surprised at your support for him this time. The word out is you put the child in her after she utterly refused sexual advances from you.”
Ino’s words, although they held no magic in them, was powerful enough to make the room, full with chatterboxes, feel empty from the silence that followed his comment.
“It is no secret that Bettllin is a woman that I have shown affection for over the years,” Rastabald spoke, as she walked towards Ino who stood his ground. “But as you are, personally, well aware of what I am capable of, you know that I cannot conjure up a child. Especially one without a Kai! So, I suggest you seal you mouth or I will not be as merciful this time around.”
“I do not have a problem officially delivering another canister of pain to your wounded ego,” Rastabald continued, as the
suns of Sinterobe darkened.
The first sound of panic was witnessed when a Sinterian rushed out of the room.
“Oh, old friend,” Ino replied, as the two powerful lords watched each other carefully. “I have truly learnt my lesson.”
Ino did the unexpected and walked out of the room without causing any further trouble. His somewhat mature action came as a surprise as he was the ‘always aggressive Ino’.
“Thank you, Rastabald,” Bantuli said. “The child will live.”
Bantuli, more than Rastabald, had proven once more that he was still in charge.
Best novels to read
…
…
Chapter 2
Best novel to read
Possible Redemption Best novels to read
“A child born without magical powers but, more importantly, born without a way to collect magic. One born without the portal of Kai is set to be doomed in a place where every breath drawn reeks of sorcery.”
It was in almost all Sinterians opinion that the child ‘saved’ by Bantuli was far from safe in Sinterobe.
“There may be a force to be reckoned with in the child,” Egre concluded, as he spoke to Rastabald.
“I do not see how that may be,” Rastabald replied, continuing as she walked towards Egre. “He was born without a portal. Two things almost secures one’s failure in Sinterobe. Born with a broken Kai or eventually get a broken Kai.”
Egre could not help himself as he always caught himself staring at Rastabald’s body, especially now as she walked while she spoke. She was in her typical outfit of long, slim-fitted trousers and a jacket atop a tight shirt that sat wonderfully with her tasteful curves.
“I cannot get enough of your wonderful natural gifts,” Egre said, smiling. The two were alone in Rastabald’s bedroom.
“Now is not the time,” Rastabald said. “I did not hire you for your good looks alone.”
“Yes, master Rasta,” Egre the transporter said playfully. “But the vessel, himself, is a form of energy; one that can be easily transferred as he has no Kai.”
“What are you saying?” Rastabald asked, to be sure her thoughts match with his.
Egre was a twelfth level wizard teleporter, the lowest level of wizardry in Sinterobe. He was able transport himself, or another entity, five times in one year.
However, Egre made up for his lack of major necromancy with the study, and effective mastery, of spells that were powerful enough to cause major significance. In terms of his brilliant mind, only a few of Sinterobe’s finest were on the same wave-length with him even though he is only of average height and build.
In a quest to survive, Egre offered his services to any high level magician that wanted to understand or know how to use an ‘almost impossible’ enchantment. His handsome and masculine features always helped him in the quest for survival. Egre always attributed his dark complexion to ‘basking in the suns of Sinterobe’.
Rastabald, the first degree necromancer of time, offered Egre protection in exchange for teaching her his brilliant ways of
studying the most difficult of spells to her exclusively. She enjoyed
the fact that most of the Spells were too powerful for Egre himself to use in its physical form.
“You could use the child for your quest of immortality Rasta,” Egre said. He watched as Rastabald’s slender body brightened in fiery ambition. Her face glowed at the thought of having an immortal soul. “You will, once again, be the architect of your youthful looks and strength.”
“I love your incredible mind,” Rastabald said as she placed Egre in a trance spell of pure ecstasy. She combined all the past times he had felt joy and made him feel it again. But this time, all at once. As Rastabald slowly began to undress, the ordinarily gentle loner savagely tore off his clothing to rush towards his lustful desire.
“Not so fast,” Rastabald said, smiling as she slowed down time enough to stop Egre’s motion.
She sensually undressed herself. Egre, who was still in a trance, enjoyed the pleasurably painful sight. He watched Rastabald slowly uncover her perfectly shaped bosoms. Then, to Egre’s pre-
orgasmic surprise, the master necromancer had quickened time enough to be completely bare.
Egre’s body could not help but quiver as Rastabald used her magic to walk towards him in a slow motion. As he could not move, Rastabald magically enhanced her strength to slam him flat on her vibrating carpet.
“Ahh,” Egre said pleasurably smiling.
Rastabald laid her curvaceous body atop Egre’s protrusion while her toned arms grabbed hold onto his strong ones.
“Now I will release you,” Rastabald whispered, as she gently kissed his ears. “Don’t hold back, love.”
Rastabald felt Egre responding to her voice in a solid, strong, and hardened way. It was the only right way at that moment.
“I like when you are in this state,” Rastabald said as she released Egre from her time spell. “You are always ready!”
Then she rode her sexually pent-up creation with a fast motion spell of her own. The two sweaty freaks of nature held onto anything possible in their glorious orgasmic escapade.
In a moment of pure ecstasy, the master necromancer manipulated time enough for them to reach a sexual climax together. It was a breathless room for a few seconds afterward. The two fell on each other as they laid passed out, after their steamy adventure.
“I love you,” Egre always managed to say. “I know,” She always replies.
“Still beautiful,” he whispered. Rastabald always enjoyed hearing that last bit.
She, also, always said their adventures were one of her extra ways of paying Egre, for his brilliant mind’s capacity. Given that Egre taught her most of the spells she had mastered and adding to her necromancy strength, she felt it was a deserving reward.
“Enjoy, my boy,” Rastabald said. “We have got work to do.
Already, I can feel my redemption at hand,” she whispered in a satiable manner.
Egre could hear the woman he had come to love perfectly clear but was too occupied in his euphoric state of mind to reply.
Enjoying one of the best novels to read of all time? Continue reading Family Drama: Fight for the Magical City of Sinterobe Best novels to read
Short Description: Amazing Short Stories includes short stories; Super Eternal Transformation (S E T) and Fighting Under Casper King . They are both short stories to read.
Super Eternal Transformation (S E T): The controversial director, Madman Gin is back at it again. This time, she decides to film the very tragic life of Vick Scaner whose fiancee has just left him at the alter. The only thing is that Vick does not know he is being filmed. He just knows that his luck is beginning to change in drastic ways.Fighting Under Casper King : The womanizing general Casper has found his next target, the city of Glendell. Read as commander Hansome Mystii and his fellow knights brave the wrath of the army of Conilius to save the things worth fighting and dying for, passionate love and the will to live.
Amazing Short Stories (short stories to read) features a few paragraphs of:
Chapter 1 of Super Eternal Transformation titled:
Alter Call
Vick Scaner sat on the porch by his television asking himself, “is it better to have loved and lost than to not have love at all?” He could not answer that question amid his present situation. “Barbra was the only girl for me, and she left me at the altar for my friend,” Vick complained in distraught.
Vick was a 35-year-old, five foot and six inches, overweight sales manager at a car company. His girlfriend, Barbra had been cheating on him for the past five years that they had been together.
Furthermore, she was controlling and always maltreated Vick. He was infatuated with Barbra. He over-looked a lot of tells that Barbra was not committed to the relationship. She always made excuses as to why she could not make several of their mutually planned dates.
Vick always thought she travelled a lot for her job. She was the secretary to Vick’s best friend, Leroy. It was a job that Vick had helped her get. Although Vick had a feeling that Leroy and Barbra might be having a fling, he convinced himself otherwise and decided he was paranoid.
It was not until the day of their wedding, two weeks ago, when he was left at the altar that he realized he should have addressed his concern in a more serious manner.
Vick, who had been friends with Leroy longer than he had been with Barbra, was depressed beyond words. He watched his once beloved girlfriend, Barbra run away with his one of few friends, Leroy.
When the heart-broken man asked why she did such a thing to him, all she could say was: “Leroy is more of a man than you could ever be.” Those words have been ringing in Vick’s head for the past two weeks since the incident.
All he did since that time was drink and eat thereby making him gain 20 more pounds to his already overweighed body of 250.
“Hey Vick, are you in there?” Vick’s co-worker said. “This is Erik from work.” Vick did not move an inch from where he sat. He barely heard his doorbell ringing. He had been sitting in the same spot for the last two weeks, getting up only to get food from his freezer and to order from Thai and Chinese restaurants.
Vick still had on a shirt and trouser from his “never-happened” wedding. “Hi Vick, I let myself in, the door was open… damn! Dude you stink as hell man” Erik, Vick’s co-worker could barely finish his words because of the stench he perceived as he entered Vick’s two-bedroom apartment.
Vick remained quiet as he stared at the television he hadn’t changed since he sat on his couch. Erik noticed the take-out plates all around Vick’s already messed up apartment.
“Dude look at you man, this ain’t right fool. I know you went through hell but this will not solve your problem home boy.” Eric, who was a tall and nice looking Latin American man, said as he was trying to comfort his co- worker. Dejected Vick was surprised at Eric’s behavior because they had just recently started talking.
“Hey man, you would not feel any better if you lock yourself up in this place,” Erik said looking around before he finished his words. “Come on, let’s go out tonight, you, me, and some big booties all up in our faces all night bro!” Vick’s reactions were as if he hadn’t heard a word Erik had said, but he nodded his head and got up and headed towards his room. “Holy shit dude! Even ass smells better than you right now man! Damn!” Eric exclaimed with a horrific look as soon as Vick got up. Vick did not care because he was not listening. His ex-words still rang in his head as he walked to his bathroom.
To watch Amazing Short Stories (short stories to read) video trailer , click here
Chapter 1 of Fighting Under Casper King ( second story in Amazing short stories, short stories to read)
“Have you heard of him? The leader with the last name of a king.” The court’s jester spoke with a flare of drama and passion. “The east surrendered to him because they watched him mercilessly champion over the west. He is conqueror of the south and lucky enough for us, the north is his home. He gets what he wants, when he wants, how he wants it and he better not find you wanting! Because death will be your greatest wish if you get on the king’s fucked side!” The jester proudly proclaimed as he performed his art to the reluctant crowd.
“Yes, yes!” The jester yelled out as he continues to sing praise of his master. “Even as we speak, just stone- throwing miles away from this very celebration, some of you fled from your beloved home just before the dogs of hell arrived at your door steps. You say you have come to pledge your allegiance but we both know the truth, don’t we? I asked you a question!”
“Yeah, yes we do!” Most of the crowd present fearfully responded in agreement. The jester was dressed in bright colorful mismatched outfit. He held two machetes in each hands as he performed directly in front of the spectators. He danced towards, and swung his broad heavy knives carelessly aiming at the crowd who had to move out of his way for dear.
“Haha,” the jester laughs as he moved waywardly. “You all know hell in its cold glory was about to break loose and this was the best way to save your hinds. For your quick-witted thinking, our general has permitted me to grant you asylum in one of our greater empires. “But wait!” The jester halted all sound and movement.
“Before I continue,” he whispers loudly in a dramatic posture. “Allow me to introduce the one worthy enough to lead us into this glorious battle.The one worth enough to paint the place you call home a colorful taste of bloody red!”
“I give you general Casper!” The jester said as he bows his head and raised both arms in the direction of the Emperor’s seat box where the general sat. “Haha,” Casper laughs and claps. “Tremendous! Just wonderful. You have outdone yourself yet again jester boy!”
“I live to please you my lord!”
“Hmm, very true. Keep up the good work!” Casper King was well known for his notorious ways with women. The five foot ten inches general with medium build made his way to the top of Conilius hierarchy of warlords by impressively dealing with his leaders’ enemies without mercy.
He was known as the undefeated womanizing general. As his power grew in Conilius military court, so did his appetite for acquiring concubines for his lustful needs. He killed anything in his way including the men involved with some of the women he had forcible taken. His depravity did not stop with enemies but allies as well.
“Thanks for the introduction funny man,” Casper says as he walked towards the crowd. They were gathered in the arena of a coliseum few miles away from Glendell, the capital city of Pelita.
“As you are well aware, Glendell is the only place left standing in your once great empire of Pelita. All this would have been avoided if your leaders surrendered over like the overseers wanted. But still, in my almost infinite mercies, I have decided to grant you asylum and an opportunity to start all over again. We are a semi-republic system after all,” Casper said with his best grin. “My name is Casper. You shall address me as your new lord and master. Am I clear so far?”
“Yeah!” The crowd yelled almost at the same time. The worrisome and nervous looks on their faces compared to their attempt at praising their captor disguised as savior was a thin line. The arena was surrounded by enough soldiers to make the already agitated crowd of war casualties feel tenser. General Casper continued, “I will visit your former homes in a few days’ time.
Those that were loyal to their country till the end will meet just that, their own end. If you have family or friends that chose this path, I hope for the sake of what is about to befall them that they truly thought their choices through thoroughly. They will not be dying with their dignity or pride of country. It is my sole duty to tear that asunder!”
“Ahoo!” The soldiers around the vicinity chanted loudly as they make battle sounds with their weapons. The ambience from the crowd seemed to take a turn for the worse. “Welcome to the Conilius family!” The general concluded as he started clapping. The soldiers followed and so did the rest of the crowd.
“My men would lead you to your new destinations. But I have got to say, you Gledellans have one of the most beautiful women around. As a top commander in the Conilius Empire, one of the reasons I wanted to personally conquer this place for myself was the rumor about the beauty Gledellan women possess. I must say that I am impressed by what I have seen so far. Even as we speak, I spot a beauty more stunning than a leaf droplet of a fresh morning dew.” Casper said as he looked towards a specific direction of the crowd.
“You,” the general pointed in the direction of a woman standing in between two older adults that held her hands on either side. “Come to me and let’s see about making your life better than what it has ever been. You can bring those people with you if it makes things easier.” Casper commanded. It was no surprise the general had spotted what he thought was the most beautiful woman amongst the crowd. Before the lady and her parents could respond, the general’s men were already in the process of taking them towards the emperor’s entrance of the coliseum
Casper went back to his seat, excited about his new catch. There were lots of incoherent mumblings amongst the crowd but none loud enough to stand up against general Casper’s order. The three were directed to stand before Casper. What is your name beautiful one? Casper asked. “Rachelle,” She said in an indifferent manner.
The crowd silent mumbles grew a little loud for a moment at hearing her name. “Hmm, I see you are well known among your people. Is that because of your radiant beauty?”
“Thank you for your kind words my liege,” Rachelle began, “the reason for my popularity is mostly because I recently got betrothed to the commander of Glendell, Hansome Mystii.”
“Is that so?” Casper says with an evil grin. “Where is he now?” “He is among those fighting your soldiers now.” Rachelle replies trying hard to show no fear. “Good, good” Casper says, “I suppose you are the parents?”
“Ye…yes sir,” the father manages to say. “We are grateful for the warmth you have shown sire,” the mother quickly added.
“What about you beautiful? Are you grateful at the kindness I have shown, huh?”
“Thank you for your kindness my liege,” the beautiful lady with an hourglass figure managed to reply as she bowed with a slightly bent knee. “You may call me Casper my dear, just you though.” Casper chuckled as he continued, “soon, you shall be able call me anything you want.” The general concluded smiling…
We hope you enjoyed one of our short stories to read; Amazing Short Stories.