We Dystopian

Everyone who lives will die, and nothing they do can stop it. That's the way things are. The circle of life. And a single undeniable truth. The minute we are born we start our journey of that cycle and we will continue down that path until we take our very last breath. However, not all life spans are the same. Some people live to an old age. Others die young. Some die of natural causes, and others die of accidents, murder, or disease. It's the sad truth of being human and death doesn’t discriminate. But what if someone could see their death coming? Would they do everything in their power to stop it from happening, or would they live their lives to the fullest since they knew it was coming to an end? Would they fight tooth and nail to be able to stay earthside for even a minute longer or would they succumb to the inevitable? This is the universal question and the only ones who can answer it are the people who saw their deaths, people like me. My name is Remi Woods. I'm eighteen years old, and for as long as I can remember, I've been able to see how a person will die with a single touch. At first, I wasn't quite sure what was happening and I was terrified that maybe I was going crazy, but after my visions kept coming to fruition no matter what I did, I knew I was different, and not in a good way.

“There was a fucking earthquake. It caused an avalanche on the mountain. Didn’t you feel it, you lazy piece of shit?” I yell at Kaleb. “No, I didn’t. I was fucking sleeping. Quit bitching at me.” he says. He’s wearing nothing but grey sweats that hang low on his waist. God, how can someone so fucking hot be so fucking annoying? “We are stuck here. There’s at least 25 feet of snow blocking us in this cabin. Lily and your parents can’t get back either.” I tell him. “Thanks for the observation. If we can’t get out, they obviously can’t get in.” “Can you not be a snarky asshole for 2 minutes?! We are literally fucking stuck in this cabin together for god knows how long!” I yell at Kaleb. He’s so infuriating sometimes. “Relax. I’m sure we’ll probably be out in a few hours.” “Oh you’re sure, are you? Well, guess what dipshit? The guy on the radio said they’re focusing on the surrounding areas first and then they’ll be working on the mountain. That could take fucking days, Kaleb.” Kaleb takes a step closer to me. “Don’t talk to me like I’m fucking stupid, Riley.” “Oh yeah? What are you doing to do?” “If you don’t stop with this bratty attitude, I’m going to fuck it out of you.”

Devin King was my first—well, everything. They say you never forget your first. Whoever said that was right because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him out of my head or my heart. I foolishly thought my heart wouldn’t miss what it couldn’t see, but I was wrong because I never forgot, not for one moment. You’re not supposed to kiss your best friend. You’re not supposed to give your virginities to one another, either—but we did. We were kids, teenagers, full of hormones and mixed emotions, but it felt right. He was the first boy to kiss me, the first boy to touch me and taste me in a way only a lover would. “Say you want to be mine….” He whispered while I shook in his arms. And I did. And then he wrecked me. After I trusted him and gave myself to him, he disappeared, left me in my , the scent of him still lingering on my skin, the taste of his kiss still fresh on my lips. He left me after the amazing night we shared after we became one another’s and disappeared without a word. Until one day ten years later he pops up like a rash as the newly appointed CEO of our firm. Was I shocked to see him standing in the office after a decade? Yes. Did I almost faint? Hell yes. My heart may have melted a little when he smiled right at me, but he wouldn’t ever know that—because I hated him. But here I am, the VP of an established publication firm standing in the CEO’s office handcuffed to the pompous face. Why are we handcuffed you ask? Well, that's a funny story...

A guy trying to find his place in the rough streets. will he make it? we're about to find out.

I nodded. "I guess the night was a success." "It was." I didn't realize it but he was in my face now, only a step away. His hand went for my waist, pulling me into him. "Let's keep it that way because my mother is right by the door trying to listen in on us. I guess we weren't very convincing." I took a slight peep and there was a shadow right at the door. "What should we do?" I mouthed His hand lifted my chin. "A kiss should do the trick."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm on my cheek. "I know a place where we can really forget about everything else," he murmured. I felt a thrill of anticipation run through me. It was reckless, and I knew I shouldn't, but something about this man made me want to throw caution to the wind. We left the bar together, walking through the quiet alleys until we came to a luxurious hotel. He led me inside, and we made our way to a suite with a breathtaking view of the city. The guy kissed me hungrily, and all my doubts faded away. For that night, I was able to forget about my heartbreak and just be in the moment. As we lay together, sated and content, he whispered to me, "I may be disguised, but I promise you, I'm not who you think I am." I looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?" He smiled enigmatically. "Let's just say that I'm not your average guy." And with that, he gathered his things and left, leaving me alone once again, but with a newfound sense of hope. Maybe there was something better waiting for me out there, after all. ★★★ Andrea Fernandez, an unpopular newspaper reporter from Cebu, had her life changed with one simple contract: to become "Carmen Dela Cruz" for the wealthy and influential Dela Cruz family. To get paid and fund an expensive surgery fee for her aunt's son, Andrea must complete five seemingly impossible tasks while living as Carmen Dela Cruz. Along this journey, she meets Miguel Rodriguez, whose presence could change everything in unexpected ways. Will Andrea fulfil her obligations or will something else take precedence? Read The Contracted Billionaire Heiress to find out!

Ever since we were kids, I'd always known how to make use of my gentle childhood friend for things like sending him on errands, and borrowing his allowance. He never complained. Just silently indulged me. Things continued the same way until the day we got engaged. That's when everything snapped into place. That was the day we both woke up. I was just a throwaway character in a novel. He was the male lead—fated to fall in love and end up with the novel's heroine. I was stunned. Ready to walk away. But he was furious. Jaw clenched, eyes wild. He grabbed my hand and dragged me straight to City Hall. "Screw the novel. Screw the plot. The only thing I know is that I love you, and I want forever with you." After we got married, he treated me like I was made of glass. Gentle. Meticulous. We worked side by side, building a reputation as a power couple in the business world. The events of the novel faded into the background. I fell deeper in love with him. Three years later, the youngest daughter of a real estate tycoon started her internship at our company. That day, there was a fire in the office. In the chaos, the girl stumbled into a shelving unit. It came crashing down, headed straight for my husband. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of him. Pain exploded in my skull. Blood poured down my face. The girl, in her panic, had fallen to the ground, crying out, "Aaron, help me!" My husband's face went pale. His expression—pure terror—as he ran toward her without a second thought. "Grace!" he cried. Lightning split through me. My face drained of color. The heroine in the novel—her name was Grace.

The things we want are so very rarely the things we need. Clifton Heights, a modest Adirondack town, offers many unique attractions. Arcane Delights sells both paperbacks and hard-to-find limited editions. The Skylark Diner serves the best home-cooked meals around, with friendly service and a smile. Every August, Mr. Jingo’s County Fair visits, to the delight of children and adults. In essence, Clifton Heights is the quintessential small American town. Everyone knows everyone else, and everyone is treated like family. It is quiet, simple, and peaceful. But shadows linger here. Flitting in dark corners, from the corner of the eye. If you walk down Main Street after dark, the slight scrape of shoes on asphalt whispers you're not alone, but when you look over your shoulder, no one is there. The moon shines high and bright in the night sky, but instead of throwing light, it only seems to make the shadows lengthen. Children disappear. Teens run away. Hunters get lost in the woods with frightening regularity. Husbands go mad, and wives vanish in the dead of night. And still, when the sun rises in the morning, you are greeted by townspeople with warm waves and friendly smiles, and the shivers pass as everything seems fresh and new... Until night falls once more. Handy's Pawn and Thrift sits several blocks down from Arcane Delights. Like any thrift store, its wares range from the mundane to the bizarre. By daylight, it seems just another slice of small town Americana. But in its window hangs a sign which reads: We Have Things You Need. And when a lonely traveling salesman comes looking for something he desperately wants, after normal visiting hours, after night has fallen, he will face a harsh truth among the shelves of Handy’s Pawn and Thrift: the things we want are rarely the things we need. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

“I don't want to go back there…” I shuffled back on my feet, my leg catching against a root making me stumble and fall while the three men loomed over me, something akin to interest in their eyes. “Be calm. We do not seek to harm you. Let us help you. You are a member of Silver hollow pack, right? We'll get you back in and in return…” One of them paused, crouching down to my level, a smirk on his handsome face. “You can help us princess”

Eight years after I married that award-winning actor, he publicly declared he was dating the top starlet, Celine James. He even posted a picture of the two of them celebrating their adopted “baby’s” birthday. I did not call him to interrogate him as usual. Instead, he hurriedly explained, “It’s just a pet we adopted. As its ‘dad’, I have to be there for its birthday.” I said calmly, “Rather than adopting a furbaby, why don’t we get a divorce? Then you can have an actual baby with her.”