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Hi! Welcome to Short-Stories

:bulletblue: Kindly submit your stories to their designated folders.

:bulletblack: Submissions to Featured are not allowed. Submissions to this category will be ignored!

:bulletyellow: If a new folder needs to be created, please, let us know!

:bulletred: Mature content is allowed. However, it must be appropriately marked as per deviantART's rules.

:bulletgreen: There is no limit for submissions per artists! Feel free to share as many of your works with us as you wish!

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:bulletpurple: Don't forget to check out our bi-weekly journals to keep up with any important updates and features!

:bulletred::bulletred::bulletred: REMINDER: Keep your eyes peeled for the Monthly Prompt for this December!:bulletred::bulletred::bulletred:

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Thank you!
Hello all!

I just wanted to say, before getting started, how your submissions were one of the few things I had to look forward to this past month! I've been working tirelessly between my job and school. But at least I've gotten a sort of promotion...! So at least there's that, but again; the focus here is your lovely stories are what kept me going...!

So sincerely, a big, big thank you to everyone who submitted deviations lately :)  

Without further ado,

Let's FAW!

F e a t u r e d   A r t i s t s   o f   t h e   W e e k !

I'm not at all surprised to see a lot of fantasy lately! I'm guessing (and could be wrong) that with The Hobbit coming out, everyone is getting inspired...! Let me know if I'm on the mark, or completely seeing connections where there aren't any ^^;

Why?He says I'm not possible.
I shouldn't exist.
I was and forever will be a mistake.
A mistake he will always be burdened with.
He acts like it's my fault.
Is it?
I've come to believe it is.
Everyday I remind myself,
  "You don't deserve to be here, yet you don't deserve to go to a  better place. You will never be part of this world, but you will be forever. This is your punishment. Everything that has happened, it is all your doing. You don't live under him like everything else does. You are free, but not really. You mustn't love, you mustn't make friends. If you do, he will punish you. A monster cannot do such things, they hurt others and do bad things. Which is exactly what you've done."
If I don't remind myself he wil remind me for me.
It's easier to hear it from myself.
I'm only human though, humans need love, to be loved.
He says I'm not human, but I've lived as one for so long.
I must be a little human right?
I wish he woul
A New WorldA blinding streak of light and a deafening crack of thunder was all the warning Braden had before he raised his kite shield in mock defense against the oncoming bolt of sheer energy that snaked towards him. His shield hummed with power as a bubble-like ward manifested around him, catching the bolt and harmlessly tossing the energy away to explode further down the arena. Braden’s teeth cringed as his bones rattled and the hair on his neck bristled. The sheer force of the attack collapsed his left arm, sending his kite shield slamming into his chest and his legs faltering beneath his own weight.
His brow furrowed as he painfully regained his composure and stared down the training yard at his Draoll partner. The black vixen stared back, hunched and panting heavily from the strain that the magical attack placed on her. Despite her obvious fatigue the edges of her black lips stretched into a smile and her ruby eyes gleamed with what Braden could only assume was a gloating taunt.
The Girl and StarsOnce upon a night, there was a little girl. Her hair was neither chestnut nor gold, her eyes were emerald, and her skin a shade of olive. She was not particularly elegant, eloquent, or charming, however much she tried. She lived in a large vast desert in some land too far away to be worth describing. Oh it was lovely there, but so dreadfully empty. She would speak to the sun, but all too soon the sun would fade away into the darkness. She would speak to the moon, but day after day less and less of the moon would shine and visit. She would speak to the sand, but the desert breeze would blow the grains away; and so the girl remained silent, for it is dreadfully difficult to talk when there is no one to listen.
In her long silence grew loneliness, and sadness sprouted from her bosom. No matter where she would turn, it would be the same emptiness. She was tolerant however, it was her nature. So she endured. Some nights she would smile and forget…others she would roll her head into he
I Speak to Everyone.As dusk fell, there was a knock at the door. Clara opened it with a mixture of fear and hope.
Superimposed upon an icy backdrop, with pink-tinged sky and trees groaning under the weight of ever increasing snowfall, stood a small lad, still clinging to the knocker as if his hand was frozen to it. He looked surreal, pale and fragile, also somewhat poorly clad for the weather conditions. And yet he had a vibrancy and urgency about him.
He released his hand from the knocker and tugged Clara’s arm.
“Please come with me,” he urged. “The man is calling for you and he cannot move.”
Man? Frank? Her husband had been missing for six days. Her hopes raised! Quickly, without speaking further, she grabbed her coat and followed the boy as he led her to the edge of the woods and onto a small path she had never noticed before. It was untrodden and the virgin snow upon it, yielded helplessly to their footfall.
Questions surged in her mind but they remained unspoken; the urg
GiantsJanuary 21st 1994 - A group of reclusive giants live behind my house. I caught a glimpse of them strolling by my window. Like us, but much more hairy, and much bigger. I was scared at the first sighting, and didn't know who to tell. My parents wouldn't believe me, and if they didn't believe me then no one would. 
May 1st 1994 - A couple months go by, and eventually I see the tall hairy man once again. This time his brow is furrowed, or at least what I can see through all the hair surrounding his face. He looks angry; he comes into our back yard and stands, staring up at my window. A few of his compatriots stand along the road leading into the forest, with a sickening pleasure on their faces.
July 5th 1994 - The thought has been eating away at me; I need to tell someone what I saw out there. I decide to tell my parents; to my surprise they believe my far fetched story. They call the mayor, who subsequently calls in a slew of police. We scour the back road of our
The moor was lined with thin, shallow rows of neatly cut pasture. The grass was short and demure, like texture on canvas, almost as if it were deliberately etched into the rolling expense of meadow. Bright, pale light filtered through from the tops of mile-high trees, illuminating splotches of land while leaving others cast in shadow. High up above, a light mist spread conformably over the vast fields, trickling into the forest behind and giving a dusty edge to the sunlight that spilled over acres of great moorland.
The tree would have been like any other, if it had not been standing solely in the middle of the moor. It was not a particularly tall tree, nor an exceptionally large one. In fact, it was utterly dwarfed by the looming forest that towered at the rear. But it stood, curiously, alone. Its branches reached upward, lacing and entangling one another in interlocking webs of timber. The ones at the bottom drooped with the weight of thousands of tiny leaves.
A dry, harsh wind swept
Color to a Blind Man by Rayen-V-Storme ConsiderThe demons are back; I can see them hiding from the light, behind objects and myself. I can hear them, they are the silence in the enclosing walls, the suffocating fear outside my window--they whisper things of loneliness.
Across the grey carpet, lacking in colorful emotion, there is a ghost, lingering about my necessities of coexisting with the living. A decapitated blade glints against the light bulb as if it were the sun, the universe. I've drowned it a thousand times before. Its stained a red hue--the color of hate, sadness, emptiness. Beside it, there is bleached plastic with a lid covering its caping mouth; it holds pink oval dellusions in its belly. I catch myself staring, longing to be filled with something, anything that will allow me to dissolve into a much more vivid reality and fall into an endless sleep or synthetic happiness, just one more time. One last time... Yet I turn my gaze elsewhere.
I finally crawl out from under the sheets, and cross the room, walls expanding in

Thank you for the submissions! All were very good pieces, and deserve the mention :)

I hope I haven't ruffled any feathers by not featuring some of you, but take this with a grain of salt; keep writing and maybe you will be! There's always room for us to improve, myself included.

I know I've spoken about it before, but I still have the intention of writing up some constructive criticism and "review" the features. Would any of you be interested in this? That is to say, would you read the reviews, or simply shrug them off thinking "If it's not my work, why bother?"

P r o m p t  o f   t h e   M o n t h

Since we're already halfway done with November, might as well list December's choices instead...! I know everyone's busy with the Holidays coming up, so I guess it's for the best this way.

1) Memories; lost and found.
2) Duty always comes first.
3) The light at the end of the tunnel.
4) His serrated grin.
5) Tears that rippled through time.

If you're unsure on how the Prompt of the Month works... the rules are as follows:

Every month a sequence of words will be suggested for writers to play around with. You are allowed complete freedom with these, the sentence offered need not even be explicitly mentioned in the story it inspired. All I would ask is for you to mention which suggested sentence you took for the story, and then submit it to the Prompt folder (e.g "For the Short-Stories's Monthly Prompt 'Duty always comes first' "  is enough :))

There are no other restrictions...!

Much like the FAW, winners will be selected and featured along with their stories...!

Also, if ever you have any ideas to suggest for the next prompt monthly, feel free to leave a comment/send me a note about it...!

N e w   M e m b e r s !

Lots of new people this time! Welcome to all :D


Again, welcome to our group! :D

Also, I noticed a few people added us to their watchlist, so thank you to these merry fellows too!


N a m e  I T

XxravecookiexX. The best kind of cookie :nod:

F o o d  f o r  T h o u g h t

Listen! Question: why do we talk out loud when we know... we're alone?

Conjecture: because we know we're not.

Evolution, perfects survival skills... there are perfect hunters. There is perfect defense.

Question: why is there no such thing as perfect hiding?

Answer: how would you know? Logically, if evolution were to perfect a creature whose primary skill were to hide from view, how could you know it existed? It could be with us every second and we would never know. How would you detect it? Even sense it?

Except, in those moments, when for no clear reason... you choose to speak aloud. What would such a creature want? What would it do? Well? What would you do!?


By far my favourite episode of the whole series :D

On another note, however... what have you all been up to? Watching any shows? Reading any books? Anticipating anything?

Do let me know! :D

Now then, take care everyone,

See you in two weeks :)
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Add a Comment:
Doc-Dragon Featured By Owner Nov 15, 2014  New member
I'm not too familiar with the literature world and what is what except for obvious things, but I'd like to submit something. I don't know what this would fall under. --->… Do I have to be a member to submit too?
The-Archaeon Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You can submit it to Fantasy :)

And actually, you don't have to be one to submit. Part of the "door's open to all" policy :)

It was very interesting by the way, I liked it a lot! Hope to see more ;)
Doc-Dragon Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2014  New member
Ooh okay. Thank you for the help.

Thank you! I'm not really a writer ^^; I might consider writing more though.
The-Archaeon Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're very welcome..!

You should, and the title will grow on you eventually ;)
(1 Reply)
MarsCam Featured By Owner Oct 11, 2014  Student General Artist
Almost done with the new Glitch story. 69/7ths done so far. It's random weird suspenseful full of death and of course VERY Glitchy.
The-Archaeon Featured By Owner Oct 15, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Can't wait...! :D
MarsCam Featured By Owner Oct 16, 2014  Student General Artist
It's done but my sis is doing a Grammar check. If I get arrested by the grammar police one more time I'm going away for a long time. Grammar jail is worse than school. .C
The-Archaeon Featured By Owner Oct 20, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Haha! Indeed, indeed! Be wary! :giggle:
MarsCam Featured By Owner Oct 11, 2014  Student General Artist
* 69/77ths .P
GameInnovator Featured By Owner Oct 6, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Nice group, can you submit short stories separated into multiple chapters?
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