The Benton Country Club was a handsome brick building that had been built on top of a hill. The Country club was the playground for the bourgeoisie of the town. A nine hole golf course surrounded the building and attached to the building was a deep, oval-shaped swimming pool and beside the swimming pool was a tennis court. To become a member, one had to vote in. It was also clannish, with just one vote against you being enough to black ball you from ever joining the club again. 

Sammie's story an incident of magic and Fae

I am adding this character in to flesh out my stories with more characters I can control fully and not barrow too many of others laying around the Whateley school

Lets see how you all like it and PLEASE PLEASE comment or I don't know what to do next or if you even like this plot?

It was too short notice to make a birthday cake, Mrs. Ramsey said, but they had a couple of boxes of Girl Scout cookies that they’d bought from the scouts at church the previous Sunday, and we nibbled on those and they sang “Happy Birthday” for me, and I cried, and everybody hugged me.

I took a deep breath as I peered toward the full floor length mirror that was hung on the other side of the small changing room. The reflection that greeted me was totally alien to me. The reflection showed a girl, who appeared to be around sixteen. She had long, flowing brunette hair that reached down to her shoulders. A modest chest that was just starting to fill out. Her hips were just starting to come in. This girl also wore a strapless coral pink ball gown that reached all the way to the ground.

Jamie's case of mistaken identity as a girl is getting too out of hand. He wants to let his friends in on the secret, but will that make things even worse?

After what I guessed to be 30 seconds of feeling sorry for myself and weeping Aunt Heather pulled back the curtain to the dressing room cubicle and asked, “you ok JoJo?”

Trying to hold back my tears my voice trembled as I looked up at Heather as she pulled the curtain across to give us some privacy

According to the Book of Genesis, the first recorded murder in human history was committed  by Cain who murdered his brother Abel. Setting the stage for men to murder each other for years to come. A foreshadowing to man's own bloody history of conflict with his fellow man. Now, the next story was told to me, by my cousin, Daisy. Who claims the story is true. And there was something in the manner of his speech, something the way he seemed to look over his shoulder, something in the way he held himself as he recounted this story that filled me with a sense of dread.

“Wake up! It’s Christmas morning! You just missed Santa Claus!” Mrs. Ramsey called out from the hallway.

Have you ever asked yourself the following question? What causes a place to become haunted? Or to become infested with demons? That is the million dollar question that is often debated among theologians and paranormal scholars alike. I'm not here to answer that question. I'm here to tell you a story of a building that is haunted. Haunted by the lost soul of a wayward teenage girl who tragically took her own life in a fit of religious fever and my personal encounter with her. But first a brief history lesson.

“I can’t believe it but I did it. I helped my team come together and we took out a Royal! He was terrifying, his name was Fluorescon, and his ability scared me. He could upgrade his Luminescent generals giving them the ability to fire bolts of light. I thought we were all going to be purified, then I took a deep breath like Fluffy told me to do, and focused. Once I did I was able to take command. I had Dragon lead in the front to take the brunt of the hits with his Brute trait.

The next morning, I was once again forced to sit still as my friends taught me how to put on makeup. “Why do I need to do this again? I don't look that bad,” I said.

I really did look good. I'd gotten a good nights sleep, and I was learning how to comb my hair so it wasn't tangled, or looked like I'd slept in it. And with my new, unwanted, assets, most people wouldn't be looking at my face.

“I still miss them, though, even though I’m worried about how they’ll react. Does that make sense?”

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Three: Learning the Curve

“Okay Haddy.” Gwendoline said to me. “Before we go shopping I want you to get a good shower, I want you to deep condition your hair. I want you to shave under your arms, and to shave your legs too. Don't worry about your nether. I'll make an appointment in town with the stylist to handle that when prom and other major events come around.”

I blinked and blinked again.

Caution: This story contains references to prostitution, murder, and suicide, but there are no graphic depictions of any of them..

I’m George Walda. Shortly after I turned 17, some strange things started happening to me. First it was this recurring dream that I had turned into a pile of goo.

After the near-disaster of the previous day, senior guildsmen arrive to investigate the steam engine and to rebuild it if possible. They are naturally surprised by Milsy's abilities as she and Senidet demonstrate what they can do.

What Milsy Did

by Penny Lane

34 - The Missing Link

Mischief Night Magic
Sequel to 
Cemetery Shenanigans
Part Two: Making Plans

The English language is full of idioms. One of the simpler ones is “Time flies when you're having fun.” I'm not sure how true that is, but it seemed I soon lost myself in my work. The simple act of bending down, picking up a weather worn trinket and tossing it into the trashcan before moving on to the next one was like a simple form of meditation to me.

I thought about what Sophia and Savannah had talked about last night, about their fathers and their long estrangement and how they were trying to be friends again now. Would it be like that between me and Nathan when I made contact again after I turned eighteen?

“So... Petra, will you be keeping the new body?” Clarice asked, looking a tad envious.

Slumped in my seat, I was busy stuffing food into my face. Being killed and resurrected over twenty times had made me work up an appetite. The new proportions probably didn't help matters either. It felt like I was sitting on balloons, and I missed being able to see my feet.

By

Gwen Brown

This Short Story has been laying in one of my SSDs, neglected and unfinished for years. It seems that my protagonist is deeply confused about their gender. That’s not the half of it. What can we do to fix that? This is a story of secrets, deception, abuse, and war.