Why do we always hide from the unknown? We're humans - the top of the food chain, yet we're all scared of the unknown and each other. Curiosity is a scarce treasure, one that not many have. It can be a good and bad thing, leading one to phenomenon or his or her own demise. It can be a strange thing. So many don't like it though; they opt to conceal themselves in the shadows and don't like curious ones crawling into their business. They are the reason why curiosity is uncommon; they are the reason why curious people and even unknowing people tend to disappear. I guess that's why I'm here - to drag those hiding criminals by their legs into the light and make them burn. That is why I am here. Luke Brant is a top detective, who has made a reputation of taking down top gangs and high guilty powers. He is a man determined to bring those who are criminals to get what they deserve. When he discovers that his mother's dying wish is connected a case, Brant steps up to the assignment. However, what he delves into, is a supernatural case which is impossible to dismantle.

A doll's awakening. Airship pirate raids. A lonely steam powered robot. A frustrated inventor. A kraken discovery. This is my first Steampunk story, and my second attempt at writing poetry.

Elle Quinn is driven home by her friend's father at night. But something is off about him. When they're stopped by the police, she gets in the squad car, but he suddenly disappears. A detective questions her about her relationship to him, and where he went. The truth is, she has no idea. But the detective informs Elle about what really happened to Violet's father. Questions arise in her mind. How did he find her, and where did he go?

"Flitt! You're distracting me!" Arlen swiped at the air, as the tiny winged creature zipped and dodged, holding one of her precious paintbrushes just out of reach. Little Flitt was supposed to be her Muse. Like her father before her, and countless ancestors before him, Arlen had been given the (supposedly) humbling honor of being a Dragon Scribe. It was her duty to bring to life the wordless, shapeless language of the dragons by painting their messages for all to see. A hatchling chooses a Scribe on the day it turns one year old. When it does, they're bound to each other for life from that day forward. Arlen was the youngest of five sisters and four brothers. That made her number ten. Each of them was an "accomplished" artist in one way or another, and there was a good deal of talk in the town as to which one of them the bright-eyed hatchling would choose to be his voice in the world. Surely it would be Kayla; her mastery of the human language would transform the dragon's speech into clear and beautiful poetry like the world had never seen. Though, some would argue that the twins, Daniel and Draco, would be a wiser choice. With the dragon inspiring the design of their wonderful machines, surely it would revolutionize the kingdom! If Hilda were chosen, she and the dragon could have crafted the most beautiful armor and weaponry to be bestowed upon the royal knights. That would surely have brought the kingdom's favor upon the little town. Then again, it would also have been amusing for the "Full House", as they'd been affectionately nicknamed, to have been given the honor. The group of five, Mira, Aura, Flayva, Oks, and Tak, could have been inspired to produce such clever plays! Alas, none of it was to be. Instead, Arlen got him. The little brat who'd been nearly caught twice (and got away clean dozens of times more) gracing the walls of shops, and the sides of wagons with her unsolicited artistic talents. The town gave a collective groan.

~How terrible it is to love something that death can touch~ A story of friendship, love and loss told by Sirius Black. One sided Sirius/ James. Highest Rank: #222 in Short Stories

~She has lived for a thousand year and she will live for a thousand more. But she will fall in love with the same person over and over again~

He scoured the night sky, black-tipped wings wide as a dark shadow, haloing the world beneath. The city's rooftops glared silently back, all stone-grey and immaculate. He smiled, like death, as he could feel it in the air. The wind shifted like ice, cool beneath his wings. Deep within his loins, burned a fiery hunger. It was time to feed. WELCOME BACK. TO WOLVENPRAIRE. In order to escape the tyranny of the vampires raiding their town, Ayora-Peyton's biological mother calls elder woodruff in order to take her back to the safe haven that is-Wolvenpraire; for mysterious reasons however she refuses to join her daughter. However the vampires-namely Dimitri-is somehow still alive and he wants revenge on Raphael for the murder of his sister Victoria. Their aim is to take Wolvenpraire for themselves-along with all the unblossomed. The only way to do that is through the creation of a new kind of shapeshifter-the Ravenfolk...and Peyton Clarke.

A society which created order through chaos now finds chaos throughout its order. Loyalty is not determined by the same blood but those who have shed blood and forged bonds in darkness and despair. They may be hesitant to betray but everyone has a price and in the end some pay the ultimate cost.