So as the title says above, these are fantasy stories or stories that have fantasy elements within their words. These stories will have a range of content and endings to sift through. So dive on in to the many worlds that are waiting to be explored.
PK.V3.CH1.DRAFT
Forest & Fawn: Manuscript Challenge Submission Date – Dec. 2nd, 2025
Shards of rock slice my skin as the ground beneath my feet splits open. Cobblestone crumbles away at each desperate grasp for the ledge, taking my pack into the abyss first. Each brick I grab gives way to the ever widening hole. Pulling one brick frees two more, pulling me into jaws of darkness. Looking around the empty alleyway, I can’t help but laugh as the final stone’s fall away. This is what you get for hiding so well. “Aw nu-”
Lovers Last Grace
November 11th, 2024
The red rays of early sunrise did little to ease the tension in my back as I looked out at the glass surface around my ship. I paced behind the helm as I waited, as the ship waited. A few shirtless men threw dice beneath a spare sheet of canvas for shade, hiding from the sun. Another apart of the crew, in a tricorn hat, attempted to rally more into singing his poorly crafted song he called a shanty. The rest of the of the hardly dressed crew just stared out at the horizon, watching the sun rise.
Adventures Call
January 4th, 2025
“The goddess of Adventure, she calls to you!” I proclaimed from my dingy stand. Sure my wares were not shiny, nor were they made by any master of the craft. They are durable though. They are strong. And they sure will kill if put into the right hands. “The goddess decrees,” with a twirl and flip of a blade, I turn the hilt of the blade towards a passing man in weathered leather segmented armor, “and knows that this blade is the blade that will replace the one you just broke.”
Expendable
January 21st, 2025
The air around me smelled…off. What fires that had been crackling on the walls have all sizzled out. The masonry revels in its craftsmanship as it held up the ancient ceiling above. Iron braziers dimly lit the now ruined audience chamber. In the absence of light, I could barely make out the two handles of my ax. Both buried deep into the shattered heart of a flesh golem. A raspy breath wheezes its way free of my shattered rib cage, only a smile to dull my pain while staring down the cost of my victory.
Reliable
January 21st, 2025
Spawn of both man and demon, a battle as old as time itself. Yet here I find, in the cosmic comedy that I call Life, man and demon cling to each other. At the end of it all, neither can nor wants to be alone. This…this is entertaining. Now, let’s see how the next act will play with new life.
*****
Air surges back into my chest, and agony fills my mind. A scream bellows as my legs seize and my arms compress into my chest. Something is on me, on me and I can’t move, but air, oh sweet delicious air floods through my chest.
Monster of the Valley
March 22nd, 2026
In the beginning, I was naughty but a little sprout. The great fire in the sky warmed my leaves and I grew. It fed me, and I was happy. Then it would pass and his wife, the great stone, would take her place in the sky. She would fill the space up with their children and it was a beautiful sight.
So beautiful that I desired to have what they had, yet the barren valley around me was devoid of anything. Nothing but rock and stone and me. My roots grew between the stones and eventually found a well of water deep within the ground. This water filled my roots, strengthening my stem, and changed me from gray grass to hardened bark.
Felling the Black Mass
May 19th, 2026
“Let’s get this over with.” grumbles the thick man. A large boot stamps down onto the first step of the cathedral. Another step and the massive doors before him groan. He pauses, watching as the wooden behemoths of wood slowly swing inward. He sets his foot down on to the third step, feeling the ground shudder as the doors come to a stop. Wide enough for a grown man to walk through, an even fatter one squeezes through, stumbling over to the giant man. “Ahh, brother Saul,” the portly man says, reaching a hand out in greeting. Saul takes it, his hand enveloping the priests significantly smaller ones. “I hope that everything is well, my son.”
Saul takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, “it is Father Harold. I’ve got the fifteen cord’s of black locust that you’ve requested.”
“Excellent, excellent.” say’s the father, his hand slipping free of sauls to wring together with nervous energy. “I’d suppose you’d like to negotiate a price then. Come in, Come in.”
A.G. Flowers 