forum Short story contest! All are welcome!
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@kat_i_am

I knew marcho was walk/go
and I had tambien on the tip of my tongue but couldn't remember what it meant lol
and se meant he/also? but uh yeah couldn't piece that together lol

@Natasha

Sarah btw that was amazing

Much much better than mine

Tho the second one was from a few months ago so…..yeah.

Deleted user

Oooh, I've got a few short stories…
Nat, do you think I should post one?

Post them all! I'd love to read them!

@Imperfect_Autumn group

(It doesn't really have an ending, but this is one of my favorites.)

Assassins

"Good morning!" Ashley Prince bubbled cheerily with a wide grin as she walked into the kitchen on Saturday morning. Her best friend and roommate, Erika Stewart, was sipping a cup of steaming coffee with both hands wrapped around it for warmth. Her long, black hair sat in a tangled mess on top of her head, a stark contrast to Ashley's meticulously styled, shoulder-length blond hair.

Erika's deep-brown eyes peered over the top of her cup as she took another drink before grumbling, "Hmph. 'Morning. I see the assassins have failed."

Ashley rolled her eyes, not fazed by the snide remark. She was used to Erika's morning grumpiness, which would soon go away after she ate breakfast. Nothing was going to ruin her day today. Continuing her morning routine, she got her breakfast ready, a bowl of cereal and milk, and started to eat. Erika sat down across from her and stared her down until Ashley finally asked what she wanted, a bit annoyed at being interrupted.

"I found an article in the newspaper today," she announced.

"Yeah, that's kind of the point of a newspaper. And no one reads the paper anymore, E," Ashley deadpanned.

"I do. And there was a pretty interesting article in it this morning."

"Mmhm. I bet."

"Don't you want to know what it was about?"

"Nope. Not really. I kind of just want to finish eating before my cereal gets soggy, ya know?"

"It was about that new vigilante," Erika declared, ignoring the death-glare being shot her way by a very annoyed Ashley. "You know, the one working with Nightquake. What was her name again? Black Fighter, or Dark Soldier, or something like that…"

"It's Ebony Warrior," Ashley corrected before taking another bite of her cereal.

"Right, right. Yeah, what does she do again?" Erika questioned, her index finger tapping her chin while she looked past Ashley.

"She does combat stuff. Like, hand-to-hand fighting, knife skills, et cetera," Ashley droned.

"Ah, right. And, um, where did she come from?"

"Nobody really knows. She just sort of showed up one day, working with Nightquake."

"Uh-huh… And– uh– How do you know so much about Ebony Warrior?" Erika's eyes were back on Ashley now, and she could feel it.

Ashley looked up at the tone of her friend's voice. It sounded off, and the look she was giving her confirmed it. There was suspicion in Erika's eyes, which was a strange thing for one best friend to have of the other. Ashley narrowed her eyes when she noticed, knowing Erika was thinking about her. And that was something she couldn't show.

It was bad enough when she came home to their shared apartment covered in bruises and cuts and blood, both her own and not, when she was just "going to the gym." That was enough to make her friend suspicious, but she had been careful to hide it. She usually cleaned herself up as best as she could before she got back, which was sometimes very early in the morning. Now there was an article in the paper, which Erika most definitely never read. So what was she looking for?

"I keep up with the news. And you know I have a very good memory," Ashley answered, trying to sound less tense than she felt.

"Oh. Right. Of course," conceded Erika, drawing her gaze away from her friend and staring off into the distance. "But…"

"But what?" coaxed Ashley curiously.

"Are you sure you don't know her?"

Ashley laughed. Oh, how good it felt to be wrong! Erika wasn't suspicious that she was Ebony Warrior, just that she knew her! "That's what you think? Oh, man!" She stopped to laugh again, still giddy that she wasn't given away. "No, E, I don't know Ebony Warrior. Gosh, I thought that you thought that I was her!" Another laugh erupted from her mouth, and this time she was joined by the barking laugh of Erika.

"You?" She interrupted herself with more laughter. "You, Ebony Warrior? Oh, that's rich!" Erika kept laughing at the thought.

Ashley's gaze hardened and she sat up straighter. "What, you don't think I could be Ebony Warrior?" she demanded.

Erika was still laughing, and her words were interrupted by spurts of laughter, "No! You're– too– clumsy!"

"I could totally be Ebony Warrior!" Ashley argued.

Erika rolled her eyes. "You wish!"

"No, seriously!"

"Uh-huh. Sure."

Ashley glared at her, annoyed that her best friend - of all people - would doubt that she could be Ebony Warrior. "Whatever. I'm going out. Don't know when I'll be back," she snapped, quickly standing up and putting her dishes in the sink. She grabbed her purse from her room, her jacket from the hanger by the door, and walked out, jumping in her gold Toyota Corolla.

She started her car and drove off, just going where her instincts led her. When she finally got to where she was going, she knew immediately where she was: Silver Rock Park; her get-away place. There was almost never anyone there, except one young couple who came every once in a while to walk. Getting out of her car, Ashley walked along the path that went through the park, already feeling much better than when she left.

A scream came from behind her, and she whipped around, ready to fight if needed. She looked around, but the only people she saw were that couple. The sound of laughter floated to her ears from where they chased each other. Another shriek came from their direction as the guy caught the girl and they tumbled to the ground in a heap. Ashley watched as they wrestled for a few seconds, then realized that they probably didn't even know she was there and that she was technically eavesdropping.

Turning around, she was caught by surprise as she came face-to-face with a young man about her age. His short, brown hair and hazel eyes that glittered with mischief were a familiar sight, and so was the grin spreading across his face that matched his eyes. Ashley's hand clutched her chest over her heart, before she realized who it was.

"Ohmygosh, Tyler!" She swung a punch at his arm, and he grasped the place where she hit him. "You can't do that to me!"

@WriteOutofTime

I have found another of mine:
~The Scientific Method~

Inhale.

Draw to the corner of my mouth.

Hold the breath.

Eye my target, aim, ready.

Exhale.

Release the arrow.

Again. Again. Inhale, hold, exhale. Again. I do this every day, hours on end, until my hands bleed from overuse. I can’t help myself.

Today isn’t just recreational shooting. I’m here under surveillance, being assessed and dissected like one of my sister’s science experiments. Dara had drilled the scientific method into my mind even though my brain had no use for it. The six steps that comprised an experiment. The only way to be sure.

Step one. Ask a question. Am I good enough? Can I actually be of use to Nyir and to her regiment, or am I just going to be dead weight? Step two. Look into my background. The problem with this step is that I have no experience. I’m too young to graduate and too young to be here, but I’m here anyway –by Nyir’s demand. Step three. Construct a hypothesis. I am of use to her regiment because of my skill with a bow. Step four. Conduct an experiment.

I am on step four. Inhale, hold, exhale. I hit the mark every time. Still targets, moving targets, anything and everything. I don’t allow myself to miss. At this point, it’s child’s play. I could hit these targets in my sleep and not even miss a snore. Does that mean I am good enough for Nyir? There’s no way to tell. I may be a good archer, but what value does that have? I finish my quiver of arrows and turn to Nyir, wondering if I proved her hypothesis –wondering if I impressed her.

She stands a small distance away, her arms crossed, her face unreadable. The entire training room is empty besides her and I. I guess she’d had the room cleared while I was shooting. I was too focused on my archery to realize that. I smile at her, trying to appear cocky, hoping she can’t see how my hands sweat or how I stand on my tiptoes.

“How long have you been shooting?” she asks after a long silence. Step five. Draw conclusions from data gathered. She is approaching me slowly, her arms still crossed over her chest.

I shrug, laying my bow down on the table next to me. “Um, six, seven years? I started when I was eight.”

“Why?” Her deep brown eyes are staring straight into mine. I’ve never seen such an unwavering gaze and it’s unsettling. I refuse to look away.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, unslinging the quiver from over my shoulder. “I guess it just sounded like fun.” I’m not lying. I just don’t want to rehash my eight-year-old mind’s reasoning.

She narrows her eyes. “You’re not sure of anything, I’ve noticed. I have no patience for insecurity. Are you confident in your ability to shoot?”

“Of course I’m confident,” I say, placing my hands on my hips and grinning. “I’ll tell you right now I’m the best archer in the Lower World.”

“I’m not looking for cocky,” she says, her eyes narrowing even more, “I’m looking for confidence. Which you don’t seem to have. Bye.” She whirls around and starts to leave.

I panic. “What? Wait. No, please, wait,” I jog after her, falling into step beside her. “Sorry. I didn’t meant to sound cocky. I really do think I’m the best at archery.”

She didn’t stop walking. “Okay. Why did you start archery? Because no one starts something when they’re eight and keeps at it until they’re fifteen just for fun.” I look at the ground, not sure what to say. She continues, “So, since you’ve decided to go all mum, I’ll tell you what I think. I think you realized your sister is better than you and you wanted –no, you needed to be good at something. So you took up archery and practiced as much as you could but you still don’t think it’s enough. You’re utterly desperate to prove yourself, to yourself, to your parents, and to Dara. Am I right?”

“No!” I wince at how loud I sound. She’s almost seen right through me, but I can’t bear the idea that she’s gotten one important detail wrong. “No, I don’t want to prove it to my parents. Not… not anymore.” I cross my arms and look away, embarrassed. “I want to disappoint my parents.”

Nyir freezes. Lifts an eyebrow. “Hm,” she says. Her lips quirk at the edges. I think it’s a smile but I’m not sure. “Welcome to my regiment, Daso Argen.” Then she starts to walk again, leaving me alone in the training room.

I don’t really know what’s just happened. I know I’ve got a job, and a damn good one, and I know that somehow I’ve impressed her. I just can’t imagine how. Feeling oddly bare but also oddly confident, I grin, retrieve my bow, and head back home.

Step six. Act on results.

@Imperfect_Autumn group

bows overdramatically
Thanks, guys!

I loved writing the abrupt personality change for Ashley.

(Also, I've got another, somewhat-more-romantic superhero short – that actually has an ending – if ya'll wanna see it.)

@WriteOutofTime

bows overdramatically
Thanks, guys!

I loved writing the abrupt personality change for Ashley.

(Also, I've got another, somewhat-more-romantic superhero short – that actually has an ending – if ya'll wanna see it.)

yessss i want to see it!

@Imperfect_Autumn group

(Nat should recognize one of the characters here! This was an entry for a contest on Wattpad, and I actually had a lot of fun writing it.)

A Whitehot Love

Nightquake walked along the pier in the dead of night, patrolling the small fishing area for any sign of disturbance. All was quiet, so far. Nothing stood out to him among the crates and barrels on his left or the fishing boats to his right. The smell of rotten fish and saltwater permeated the air, so potent that he could almost taste it. He hated patrolling this area; it was always dead, with no criminal activity whatsoever.

He shook his head and thought to himself, Nothing. Why do I even patrol this area? It’s just a waste of time, time that I don’t have. I could be patrolling the rest of the city right now, but no. I just had to make sure that the calm, quiet docks stayed that way. Hmph! No one is going to steal a bunch of fish…

“Going somewhere?” a silky, feminine voice suddenly asked from behind him.

Nightquake whipped around, but no one was there. He squinted his eyes, turning on the night vision in his midnight-blue visor, and turned in a full circle as he tried to spot where the voice came from. Still, he saw no one.

A laugh sounded to his right, coming from one of the boats. Nightquake turned to face them and saw a pale figure reclining in a seat at the bow of a forest green boat. The woman stood up and walked forward, effortlessly climbing up onto the rim and balancing on it. Now Nightquake could clearly see who she was, with her all-white outfit consisting of a leather jacket, leggings, and a mask that covered the area around her eyes. Her maroon hair was blown out behind her by a sudden breeze, the darkness a stark contrast to her bright clothing.

“Whitehot. I should have known it was you, with your light manipulation,” Nightquake sighed, rolling his eyes.

Whitehot laughed again, then daintily jumped off the prow of the boat. “Yes,” she teased, “you certainly should have.”

Nightquake groaned as she started to walk toward him. “Whitehot, I don’t have time for this. I’m trying to patrol the city.”

She peered at him through her eyelashes, still moving closer and closer, and crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. “Here? In the dead-quietness of the fishing docks? You hate it here, Quake,” she stated playfully, using the nickname she gave him. She knew he hated it when she called him that, but she just loved seeing him ruffled up about it.

She was right about ruffling him up, that’s for sure. He immediately stiffened at the name and glared at her, a grimace slowly forming on his face beneath his black helmet. Whitehot’s grin grew as she saw him getting riled up, and she made her way closer.

“Whitehot. Please stop and let me work. I told you, I don’t have time for this.”

Now she was right in front of him, leaving only a foot between them. Her grin had faded to a small smirk. Nightquake could hear her quiet breathing, thanks to the sound-enhancing technology inside his helmet. WIthout knowing why, his heart started racing, his palms got sweaty, and his senses heightened.

Whitehot lifted her left hand, palm facing the sky, and a white flame ignited on its surface. She lifted it up next to his head, causing the shiny surface of the helmet to gleam in the darkness. Suddenly, the visor flipped up, showing Nightquake’s astonished face. Whitehot grinned, knowing that he had no idea how she did it, and that he was too proud and stubborn to ask.

Nightquake’s eyes flicked back and forth, desperately searching for a way out of the awkward situation. His identity was blown. No one, not even his girlfriend, knew that he was Nightquake. But now the beautiful, deadly hero had uncovered him, and she could use the information to her advantage.

Instead of blackmailing him, like she was prone to do with information from a villain, she put out the fire she was holding in her hand and stepped back. With her grin slowly growing, she bounced on her toes excitedly. Nightquake’s eyes grew wide in surprise at her actions; this was not something that she would normally do, and it almost frightened him.

Suddenly she started rambling, “I knew it! Oh my gosh, I cannot believe that you’ve been Nightquake this entire time! I mean, I had my suspicions that you were up to something when you were disappearing, but I had no idea that I was with you a lot of those times!”

“What are you talking about?” questioned Nightquake, confusion quickly draping across his face.

Whitehot opened her mouth to answer, but she shut it again, looking thoughtful. When she finally answered she simply said, “It’ll be easier if I show you.”

With Nightquake looking on in confusion, she reached up behind her head and untied her mask. Nightquake tried to protest and tell her she didn’t have to do this, but she brushed him off and pulled her mask away from her face. There was only one word to describe what Nightquake felt as he saw the face that was hidden under the brilliant white mask of Whitehot, and that word was “astonishment.” Complete and utter astonishment.

“Blaine?” cried the black-clad hero in amazement.

Blaine gave him a small wave as she said timidly, “Hi, Zach."

“All this time… All this time we’ve been fighting crime together, and neither of us knew who was behind the mask…” Zach shook his head, still shocked by what had just been revealed. “But, wait… How did you manage to keep your identity a secret from me? Whitehot was almost always at a crime scene before me, and half the time we were together I left first…”

“Well… Let’s just say that I’ve learned how to get around the city as quickly as possible,” she explained.

Zach took his helmet off and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I can’t believe that we’ve been together all this time, both as heroes and as citizens, and neither of us knew. That’s amazing.”

Blaine smiled. “Well,” she started, letting out a light laugh, “I guess that just means we’re great at keeping secrets. No one could pry your identity out of you!”

Zach looked up at her as she spoke. His gaze softened as his eyes looked over her face, and he smiled. Blaine noticed this, and was confused. What was he thinking about? Her smile remained on her face as she asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” breathed Zach, his smile fading as he quickly dropped his gaze.

“No, what was it?” Blaine asked softly, walking toward him.

He lifted his gaze back up to her as she grabbed his hands in her own. A crimson flush was spreading over her cheeks as she looked at him.

It’s now or never, dude, Zach thought, gently pulling his hands from hers. She looked hurt, but the hurt was soon replaced with surprise as Zach took her face in his hands and kissed her. When he finally pulled away he said, “I love you, Blaine. No matter who you are, or who I am. I will always love you.”