Story cover for untitled thing by sage-04
untitled thing
  • WpView
    Reads 12
  • WpVote
    Votes 9
  • WpPart
    Parts 8
  • WpHistory
    Time 45m
  • WpView
    Reads 12
  • WpVote
    Votes 9
  • WpPart
    Parts 8
  • WpHistory
    Time 45m
Ongoing, First published Oct 25
i'm a beginner writer. I've tried doing this same story before, but it was really cringe. this is just some of the best parts/parts i'm currently working on, so try and keep up I guess? there's NO link between scenes because that's boring, and i'm only writing stuff I like until I have enough scenes for it to be novel-worthy, and then I'll make it readable. now it's just basically one-shots.

thank you.

plot - there's a whole bunch of kids who've been kidnapped and put on an island. on the island, they compete in challenges (eg. tag) where the losers die, so it gets really intense. people will kill and sacrifice others to win these challenges.
the story follows Rose and her friends, Sage, Rowan, and Silas. the relationship between them is probably confusing because I haven't done it yet. hah. sorry.
they have only one source of food, and it gets really addictive so people will kill for that too. the food is also made of humans so they're all cannibals.
there are four houses. people live with their house members somewhere on the island. kids have been sent to the island for years, so their living spaces are quite good (like people inhabiting/carving out caves, building wooden houses, etc.)
the antagonist is the only adult on the island, Gretel, who forces children to do this for her own entertainment. she also eats them. yay! cannibalism!

if you have any questions, just ask. it's probably easier if you treat these all like random one-shots.

i'm publishing this so hopefully I get more motivated to write. I don't know. I might delete this soon.
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In a quiet, misty district of Himachal Pradesh, in a small orphanage called Sparsh Ashram, lived a fragile, gentle girl named Ishara. Her eyes held a quiet innocence, untouched by the harshness of the world, yet shadowed with a deep, unspoken sorrow. When she was only four, her stepfather-the one who had once called her his life-had left her. He discovered she was the product of her mother's betrayal, and in his heartbreak, he turned away. Since then, Ishara had grown up in the soft, lonely halls of the orphanage, her heart tender, her spirit delicate, carrying a pain that even time could not erase. At fifteen, she was still small, almost like a fragile bird in a vast, unkind sky-beautiful, innocent, and quietly brave. .................................................................................................... ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨