#My wattpad failed me and I lost like 1000 words or something

[lost-souls-wander]

Hunter x Reader

Chapter 1

It happened very fast, and everything went out of control. One moment humanity was just doing its thing and living in order. The next week however, everything had changed for the worst. All because of some kind of green flue. Don't take me wrong, I was concerned in the beginning, the fear of losing my slightly rhythmic life sure had taken its toll on me, especially after everyone around me started to panic, including my parents.

"HANNA! You cant just leave us! HANNA!-" those were my dads last words to his ex-lover and wife as she had taken the car, and drove off with our supplies and food. Dad was a mess after after what happened. He couldn't properly take care of us anymore, he had lost a lot of sleep in a few weeks time, his behavior also worsened. He was quick to anger, and constantly irritated. So I took it upon myself to learn things on my own as he continued to reign terror on the last of his family. I had snuck out just a few hours before sun rise and grabbed my bike. My fastest form of transport at the moment, and made a quick tour to the library, as usual, but my dad never knew. And it was possibly better this way.It was empty and deserted, I could hear a few inhuman groans here and there but couldn't quite picture what these "zombie" like creatures looked like, our dad was pretty much a helicopter when it came to the outside world when the apocalypse hit and mom left. None was allowed outside the house at all, just him. And he alone went scouting for food and food alone, here and there some materials but never something for us, his children.I could see his state worsening by the day, and considered it top priority to get away as soon as possible with as much knowledge on how to survive as possible. The building of the library was thick with a musty sent of old books and dust, lots of iron too, which I could only guess was blood. I stayed away from the strong scent of iron and focused on getting to the herbology section of the library.In these times mankind forgot that the true power of surviving came from knowledge, no knowledge? No advantage. No advantage? Possibly a gruesome death would follow.My hands brushed the polished wood that kept the books in their place on the shelves, thinking of how many people had touched these books, read through them, and possibly never did something with the knowledge inside. It was a shame really. I wanted to perhaps become member of this society and yet here it was, crumbling away at these un-dead. It saddened me a little, and I was horrified for a while when I heard it. What was I gonna do now? My degree in art and drawing was pretty much useless now. At least I could scavenge for a cabin in the mountains and settle down there, far away from society, where no zombies or humans could reach so I could exist in peace.

I chuckled, a mid-tone raspy chuckle filled my throat and echo'd a little through the empty apocalyptic library as I stopped and continued thinking about what to do and where to go. But first order of business was to get knowledge from the books and find a place to escape to. Grabbing my black old school bag I ripped it open quickly, wanting to fill it with the necessary books and just get out of here, The sounds of the un-dead in the distance was off putting, and I wasn't taking a chance to be caught in the middle of a group of them. I might have not seen them. But I knew damn well that from the clips on TV that those fuckers were fast. And me without my bike? Not so much.

I grabbed the books by pairs, quickly turning them to their back side and skimming through what the book would hold.

Edible herbal plants... Seasonal plants... Look alike's and their dangers... Looked valid enough. It went like this for a few minutes until my bag was full with books about surviving in nature, herbs, and making shelters for the night. Although I doubted it would help against zombie apocalypses it was always good to know how to make something remotely sheltering and how to acquire food from its natural source.

I quickly flung my backpack over my back and quickly took in the noise around me, the hoard had gotten ever so closer, and it started to make me anxious. If I didn't get out of here soon and back home I would be in a LOT of trouble, perhaps more trouble than being chased down the streets by a hoard of zombies. So I speed-walked towards the exit, the broken doors were leaning against the framework that had red and black splotches all over it the doors pretty much being smashed in two pieces by something extraordinary big. A shiver ran down her spine, May did NOT want to know what was big enough to do that.

after leaving the library doors she quickly hid in the bushes, peeking in between the leaves to see there was any danger, the branches poked and prodded at her form, the twigs leaving nasty marks on her clothes and bare skin.

There! in the distance she spotted her bike, old and a bit rusty, but it did the job well, I looked around if there were any zombies walking around and about, the road was clear, and so was the road ahead. It was a bit strange considering I hear an entire group of them just a few minutes ago but that must have been the other side of the building, luckily not the way I needed to go in order to get home.

I got partially up and half crouched/ran towards my bike which was placed against the opposite building in an alleyway, the alleyway was filled with trashcans and bags that had been ripped open by rats and other critters that roamed the streets and needed some food. Not that it was of any use now, it was all rotten and left a horrid stench that made my nose scrunch up in disgust.

I got on my bike and quickly started to get home, it was then that I started to feel like I was being watched. I felt it crawling over my skin that there was something or someone watching me, maybe some of the other survivors? or perhaps a zombie? I didn't want to find out and started to bike a little faster.

And then it happened all so fast, an inhuman growl came from my left and I was flung off my bike, panic setting into my very bones as I felt the bike get out of my grip, my face looked upwards as I saw the dark sky with a few light rays from the sun. I felt the cold harsh ground on my back and the air flew from my lungs as I tumbled down the steep hill, the creature flung with me yelping in surprise at it's own actions, we both rolled harshly down the wall of the construction site that was never finished.

I felt whatever air I had in me leave my body as I harshly was flung onto ground and came to a stop on my back, I groaned in agony face twisting in pain. everything hurt, my shoulders were probably bruised beyond belief and my legs felt like they had been ripped off whilst still being attached to me. And don't even get me started on my head, it hurt like a bitch!

I continued to wallow in my own pain for a brief moment until I heard a scream that sounded like it came from the depth's of hell itself, and a squishing like sound like flesh had been impaled on high impact, until all that was left was sound of screams of pure agony.

I didn't want to look at what had happened, I was in so much pain and the adrenaline was so high in my system that I made a run for the hill and grabbed what was left of my bike and just went, the howls of pain in the background growing fainter and fainter as the black concrete enveloped my mind, the scent of iron in the air was even more noticeable than before, and the distant sound of zombies screaming left me in even more panic than before as I skidded to a stop in front of my house, put my bike back in its place and threw myself over the fence to climb in the tree, and get inside of my room.

I did not come down that day for food or anything else.

That night I laid in bed curled up in fear and confusion, what had attacked me? what was it even? was that a zombie?! panic and fear had settled itself deep into my mind, I did not want to go back to the library in fear of coming across whatever that was, but fear soon turned into a guilty sympathetic feeling as I remembered what had happened to it, it had gotten pierced by metal rods and maybe was there, slowly dying, starving to death. If it even was alive that is.

I shut my eyes, letting my dark room filled with plants and comfortable blankets fall from my vision as I let a restless sleep take over me, for the next up coming week I did not sleep well, only thinking about the creature that might still be stuck there. Waiting for whatever was next to come.

[nekoannie-chan]

Fix it

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 1254 words. 

Summary:  Steve doesn’t wanna lose you, he would do anything to save you.

Warnings: Death of a character, sad. 

A/N: This is my entry to the @candy-and-writing​’s 1000 Followers Writing Challenge with the prompt #17:

“Why the fuck did you do that?”

Also my entry to @justagirlinafandomworld​’s Time Travel Challenge with the prompt #20:

“So…I died. I’m dead”.

And my entry to @cap-n-stuff​’s Vic’s 500 Followers Writing Celebration with the dialogue prompt #14:

“It wasn’t supposed to end this way”.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don’t steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other’s people. The only exception is the ones I gifted ‘cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Marvel’s characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog. 

Tags: @sinceimetyou​ @navybrat817​ @angrythingstarlight​ @shield-agent78​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @charmed-asylum​ @pandaxnienke​ @real-fbi​ @smokeandnailz​

 You knew the opportunity was unique, any mistake and Doom would win, you ran as fast as you could, it was the only option, and there was no one closer. You thought you heard screaming behind you, you ignored it, you weren't even sure if they followed you, there was no time to waste, you felt you were short of air, but at last you had reached your goal, you took out the tools and started disabling the equipment... a few minutes later you knew what to do. 

You turned to see Steve, it would be the last time, your sacrifice would save the world, and for a few seconds you closed your eyes to avoid the tears from coming out, you gave one last look at your boyfriend. 

"I love you... goodbye Steve, "you whispered as you took off the bracelet you used to contain your powers.

A blinding light illuminated the place, Steve was stunned, he could not believe it, he knew perfectly well what that light meant; the plan did not contemplate any sacrifice, he could not conceive that there was any way in which it failed. 

Immediately Steve ran to where the light had originated, began to remove the debris desperately looking for you. It took the rest of them several minutes to understand what had happened. 

As soon as Steve found your body, he hugged it, he was trying to make you react in some way, but it wasn't possible anymore. The rest began to approach, Lorna stopped when she was already very close. 

"No, no... Y/N... Doll... please open your eyes," he asked between sobs. 

“Is Y/N...?” 

"Lorna, don't you dare say it, that's not possible," Wanda interrupted her by sizing to the side of her. 

Gert turned to see Nico, she shook her head, she knew it wasn't something the Staff of One could do, she tried when Gert died in the fight against Morgan and it didn't work.

"Do something! Steve cried desperately at Nico without letting go of your body. 

"I-I'm sorry... I can't revive someone," Nico apologised. 

Steve lost track time that happened since you die, a very fixed idea had appeared in his head, and he had heard what the Runaways had done several years earlier, even remembering the déjà vu feeling. 

Bucky walked into the room that you and Steve used to share, during all those days he was trying to cheer up and support her friend, but nothing seemed to work. 

"S-Steve, it's about time," Bucky announced, taking his friend off his shoulder. 

Steve didn't answer, he let Bucky direct him to the place where your funeral ceremony would be. After that he locked himself back in the room, he waited for him to go out again, walked to Chase's lab, would come out of doubt once and for all. He rang the bell outside the place. Chase immediately opened. 

"Cap, do you need something?” 

"I wanna talk," Steve replied.

"Sure, come in, I was making some repairs to the Fistigons, I like that they're always ready... you know, in case I need them,” Chase walked over the door to let it go. “What do you want to talk about?” 

"I know you travelled back in time to save Gert, I need you to help me, and I have to prevent Y/N... sacrifices. 

Chase swallowed, he had no idea how Steve had found it out, and as far as he knew they wouldn't tell anyone how they brought Gert back. 

"I don't know what you're talking about.” 

"You know, now that I think about it, maybe I dreamed it," Steve left the lab, realizing where Chase had his time machines stored. 

He spent the next few hours planning how to get one, he was going to do whatever it took to avoid your fateful end, but he wouldn't go to that moment, but a few days earlier, what he wanted was to prevent you from going on that mission.

"Has anyone seen Steve?” Sam asked. No one knew where he was, Chase immediately realized what was going on, when he went to his lab, and he noticed the machine that was missing. 

"Oh no...” 

 Steve went into the Compound’s kitchen, you were looking for the piece of cake you kept in the fridge to eat later. 

"Steve, did you eat my cake?" You asked him when you saw him come in, seeing that he wasn't responding, you knew he did it. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

"I-I'm sorry, I was hungry.” 

You closed the refrigerator door, saw the clock on the wall, you hadn't even heard the Quinjet arrive, you came up to Steve and looked at him carefully; he did not remember that a few days earlier they had a mission. 

"You're not Steve. Loki, I don't have time for jokes," you said. 

"Y/N, it's me, Steve, seriously...”Steve realized that for the first time he didn't have a plan and didn't know what to do. You were going to call the others who were at the Compound when he stopped you. ”Please listen to me, I can't lose you again.”

 "I beg you pardon?” 

 "I have something very important to tell you.” 

You went to your office where he explained everything, you listened to dumbfounded everything Steve told you. 

"Why should I believe you?" You asked. 

"Because I've done all this to avoid losing you, they lost Gert and figured to get her back, I just can't imagine a world without you.

“So…I died. I’m dead”

Before Steve could answer anything, Nico came into your office. 

“Y/N... Am I interrupting something? Have you returned from the mission yet?”

 "No, is...what happened?” 

"I detected some alterations in the Dark Dimension... if that continues Tandy and Ty will come to investigate, last time they argued with Stark," Nico explained. 

You and Steve looked at each other, there was no choice but to explain what happened. 

"Then the Captain stole one of the machines we used when Gert... how did you know?” 

"I heard one of your conversations one day, you guys should understand me, I lost the person I love, and I just want it back.” 

The most difficult part was to convince everyone that you would not go on the mission, Chase had finally explained what would happen to Steve, however, he should avoid having contact with his past self, when they arrived at the same time Steve had travelled, and those versions would be replaced, resulting in a new timeline. 

"Steve," you called him. He looked up. “Thanks for saving me.” 

"I love you.” 

"I love you too.” 

Four months had passed since that mission, a call alerted them, Thanos went for the Infinity stones you had, but it wasn't the only thing, his appearance wreaked great havoc on the Dark Dimension, while Tina, Nico, Tandy, and Tyrone tried to contain everything he wanted to get out of the Loa, the rest was fighting Thanos' army. 

Thanos had got all the stones, after snapping his fingers, disappeared. You felt something weird inside you, it was different than when the force inside you wanted to get out of control, the fear took hold of you, were you dying?  

"Steve?" You called him, you wanted me to tell you that everything was going to be okay, but when he turned around, there were only ashes. 

Steve approached, he was supposed to save you, not to lose you again, he dropped to his knees.

 “It wasn’t supposed to end this way” 

[josiebelladonna]

what it’s like to write 1 million words

so as part of a celebration of fever in, fever out hitting the 600k mark yesterday and my 1 mil goal is officially within reach now, i’ve taken the liberty to write about what it’s like seeing as it’s such a daunting number and a grueling task. there are a couple of works on ao3 that are bandfic related that have reached that number, but i’ve only seen a couple, though: one of them is actually a genuine story, a queen story (drawing a blank on the name of it, though). the other one is a compilation of mostly zeppelin one shots. it’s a very humbling experience, too: you learn a lot about yourself as well as the way in which people react to you, especially with a story like fever.

first off, it royally messes with your storytelling ability. if you’ve followed me on ao3 or wattpad or even on here for any length of time, chances are you’ve read some of my writing. and you know that i’m a storyteller. i’ve always seen fanfic as a way of telling a story rather than a straight up genre: you play around with what and who you love and you tell the story that’s within you at the same time. when i hit souls of black/book four (even volume two is also called that), i decided to challenge myself and write longer chapters: at that point, i was averaging out about 4000 words a chapter which is a good amount, especially since most other writers in the metal tags are putting out 1000 to 2000 words a chapter on their works. but i had come to point in my writing, after sitting down most days since september 2017 to write something, where i had gotten so tight: writing that amount in a couple of hours rather than a couple of days, and now i have to do 5 or 6 or 7k otherwise i’m gonna lose it. i’m at a point now that i have to catch myself when i go long anymore on my other works in progress, and my past works almost feel like they’re missing something as a result.

second, it’s isolating, especially if you’re in the bandom/rockfic-related tags. you feel people watching you, even judging you and making fun of you. it’s kind of nerve-racking actually, especially since most people in those tags have a discord and they all seem to be speaking a language that you don’t understand. you can’t see them but you sure can feel it, especially if you’re rather infamous like me. i’ve noticed this feeling in works that are upwards of 100k: people look at you funny and they aren’t sure whether they love you, hate you, feel sorry for you, or copy the ever loving fuck out of you (which is happening... quite a bit in the metallica tag especially: every time i check, people are posting one shots that are kind of slice of life-ish). this feeling got extra pronounced after i hit half a million, too. it also feels like... people are pushing back against me. it’s hard to describe but there are times it almost feels as though everyone wants to see me fail. (you know that “up and down glance” people would give you when in school if you dressed different? it’s kind of like that). it doesn’t help matters that i already think i’m a shit writer, too, because i get hardly any reads and i feel like people are just here to read their precious porn than get lost in something lovely like a genuine story, so i don’t feel at all sexy or like i’m some sort of goddess (just writing a story like that in fandom notorious for that sort of thing just in concept alone is hard enough).

third, it really is like climbing a mountain. you have off days where all you want is to rest and do nothing. i know i do: by the time i got to the meat and potatoes of the fic with souls of black/book four, there have been a few times, especially right now near the end where i thought, “fucking hell, i don’t know if i can do this” (it also didn’t help matters that i have the inktober drawings to tend to and the artist and the writer in me are pretty much fist-fighting each other). but at the same time, it’s one of those things where it’s like... if you call it a draw and turn back now, you’ll regret it forever.

fourth, ratings almost become a moot point, especially if it’s a coming of age type story and you have themes like... exploring sexuality. the same can be said for the tags. you have a bit more leeway if it’s rated “t” or “m” because most people on ao3 are old enough to understand these things but i kind of wonder about those with an explicit rating or a “g” rating because... there has to be something to bring it up or down a bit.

fifth (this is arguably a corollary of the second point), you get the absolute weirdest comments. at least i have anyways. you get people asking you when it’s going to end or when you’re going to have something else on deck. you also actually get people laughing at you. “i can’t believe how long this thing is, holy shit”, said one person.

and lastly, you get into a league all of your own, especially if it’s like fever and it’s a slice of life type story (and the two guys at the center of it all cannot be summed up in a single sentence). you become known as the person who’s onto a million words. even if you hit half a million words, it puts you in a league all of your own. people are afraid of you or they think you’re crazy or better than them and you start to wonder if you’re at all respected - at least this is in my experience. i will say this, though: someone recently called me the “pantera of fanfic writing” because i’m kind of here by myself with this big beastie (much like how pantera were kind of by themselves in the midst of every rock and metal trend of the 90s, and anyone alive at the time will tell you that people didn’t know what to do with them).

here i am, at a bit over 600k (603490 to be exact) and with souls of black about to drift into veritas (or sam, joey, and alex all hanging out together in the 90s and watching the world they had watched rise from the ground up come unraveled). i think with veritas, this next one here, i’ll be updating every other day. make the chapters as long as i can possibly stand it because alex and joey both went through a lot in the 90s as we’ll see.

do i recommend going for the million? if you really genuinely feel it in your bones, like you have something inside of you that you feel requires that amount, yes, definitely. go for it. even with the caveats, it’s more than worth it. you see the scenes in your head come to life. you make inside jokes with yourself (like this is easily one of the most quotable things i’ve written: i quote stuff from it all the time!). even with the caveats, you’ll also get people thanking you. i’ve had a couple of people message me on instagram for it (i’ve actually had joey and alex show their love to me more because of it!).

it is hard work, and it takes a lot out of you, especially if you’re writing long chapters like that, and i know the whole meme going around about how writers should actually write if they want their story to come out in the open, but the door is open. if no one else will, then you should, and i believe in you. i’ll say this, too: once you clear 500k, it gets kind of liberating. like, okay: the gloves are off now. time to go forth.

[londonisinmyheart]

Carter

Okay fellow tumblr people, here is the first part to my story that I’ve been working on for a few months. This is my first attempt at writing a story, so go easy on me! I have also published it on Wattpad, so if you’d like to follow me on there, I’m @cheymarie12. :) Thanks for any and all feedback!

He couldn't seem to catch his breath. Spots were starting to appear in his eyes and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep running. His legs were going numb and he had feeling his lungs were going to give out at any moment. But if Carter stopped now, he knew they'd catch him. And he couldn't go back. He wouldn't go back. He was still haunted by what they had done to him. He wasn't going to let that happen to him again.

_______________________________________________________

Carter Davis was an average looking guy. About 5'10", dark brown hair that stuck up slightly, and was only neat when he decided to actually style it. He had hazel eyes and an athletic build from working every day after school with his dad to build pens for the chickens, haul hay in the horses' pen and train with his sister. But he didn't act like he knew he was attractive, in fact he hadn't really dated much. He spent his days helping his family out on the farm, going to school and preparing to go on hunts.

Carter was 18 and only a few months away from graduating. His younger sister Isabella, or Belle, was almost 17, and had earned enough credits to place her in the same grade as her older brother, so soon they would both be walking across the same stage. Carter and Belle attended Winchester Academy, the finest school in the country. Not only did the academy give them the education they needed to go to college and get a job, they also got an education in learning how to hunt the supernatural. Ghosts, demons, vampires, werewolves, witches, the list goes on and on.

"How was school today, Carter?" Charles asked.

"Same old stuff, calculus, biology and weapons class," Carter mumbled. He was in a foul mood. His sister beat him in hand to hand combat during weapons class earlier that day.

"You seem upset son, did you get a bad grade?" his father asked, as he shoveled hay into the horses stall.

Carter tried to look lost in his thoughts while he poured feed into the horses' bucket. But it didn't seem to keep his father from asking again.

"Well, Carter? You gonna talk to me, or keep acting like you are concentrated on feeding 'dem horses?" Charles said.

"I really don't want to talk about it Dad," Carter said, sounding exhausted. Not only was he mad he lost to his sister, he'd lost to her in front of the whole class and his instructor.

Charles sighed, "You know you can tell me anything. And it's not good to hold your frustrations in. It makes you more likely to snap in the field and hurt yourself or your partner."

"I know Dad," Carter said as he gritted his teeth, "I'm going to practice with Belle later."

"Well don't knock her flat on the floor or anything. She might be tough, but she's still your sister."

"Okay, I won't." But Carter wasn't so sure he could keep that promise. He wasn't going to let his anger go that easily.

_______________________________________________________

The next day Carter put his truck in park in the school parking lot. He breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled. He wasn't so sure if he was ready to face everyone after what had happened in weapons class yesterday. But he definitely wasn't going to skip and let everyone think he was a wimp who couldn't take a loss to his own flesh and blood.

Just as he was preparing himself for the day a sharp knock on his window startled him. He looked up and saw his best friend Becca Hoechlin sticking her tongue out at him.

"Come on loser, stop meditating and let's get going. I want to grab a soda from the vending machine before we have sit and listen to Johnson drone on and on about subjunctives and adjectives and blah blah blah," Becca said as she rolled her eyes.

Becca was average height, about 5'6", with brunette hair that fell just below her shoulders with a hint of curl. She had piercing brown eyes and an athletic, yet slim build. When you first meet her she looks short and non-threatening, but get her angry and she would have you in a choke hold quicker than you'd think. Carter had known her since they were kids, she was always hanging out with him and Belle. They were neighbors, and their parents had known each other back in the day at the academy. Becca was always picking on Carter, but she could never seem to beat him in weapons class, no matter how hard she tried. And boy did she kick and punch her hardest.

"Alright, alright. Calm yourself down, I was just mentally preparing myself," Carter said.

"Mentally preparing yourself? Who are you, Ghandi?" Becca asked.

"It's been a rough week and I stayed up late working on that paper Johnson assigned. I couldn't find the info I needed so I ended up doing some research for a job my parents are working on." Carter got out of his truck and he and Becca began walking toward the entrance to the academy.

"Dude that paper isn't even due for like three weeks. Why are you working on it now? You have all the time in the world to finish it."

"I'm hoping Mom and Dad will let me help them on their hunt, and if I get another bad grade in Johnson's class, he's gonna call my parents. So I'm trying to be a "proactive student"," Carter said sarcastically.

Carter wasn't a straight A student, but he wasn't exactly failing either. He was smart, but didn't see the point in doing well in school when he knew there was no way he was going to college. As far as Carter was concerned, he knew what his future was. He was going to do just what his Dad had done. Working on the farm and going on hunts. So he did the bare minimum when it came to his school work. He studied for his tests, he did his homework, but he didn't "strive to be excellent" as his teachers would say. Carter put in effort where it counted, such as his weapons or folklore classes. That's where he needed to pay attention. Math, science, history, none of that mattered if it didn't help him when he was hunting.

Becca laughed, "proactive my ass, I don't care if Johnson did call my parents, there is no way I would put that much effort into a stupid paper. '1000 words on what the "A" Scarlett wore on her clothes metaphorically stood for'," she mimicked their teacher. "'Due before your spring break.' I swear he's just testing how much patience we have. I don't care about school anymore. I just want to graduate and get out of this stupid town. Go on real hunts, kick ass and take names that a real hunter."

"A real hunter, huh? You don't think our parents are real hunters? They've kept us safe since we were born, saved people numerous times and made sure we know what's really out there," Carter argued as they walked into the break room at the school.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down there killer, I was just saying I want to get out of this town. There's nothing here. Only small annoying spirits and the occasional odd supernatural creature that folklore can't explain. Nothing too dangerous. I want to go up against something challenging. This place is just predictable and boring." Becca put two quarters into the vending machine and punched the numbers for a coke.

"Whatever, let's go." Carter turned around before Becca could grab her drink. She chased after him and when she caught up to him she softly punched him in the arm.

"Cheer up buttercup, at least it's Friday." She said smiling.