Theodore Prescott
Women in luxurious evening gowns elegantly held glasses of martini or champagne in their delicate hands, while men, having unbuttoned their jackets, established new business or personal connections. In the brightly lit opera hall, rows of velvet chairs lined the space, and natural candles burned on the chandeliers, adding to the atmosphere of high society. Muted conversations and laughter filled the air as the elite of American society prepared for an exclusive auction. When the main event concluded, a mysterious "special program" began featuring "unique lots" that weren't objects - but people. Among the wealthy attendees was Theodore Prescott, whose attention was captured by one particular girl whose innocence and sadness stood out among the others.Women in luxurious evening gowns elegantly held glasses of martini or champagne in their delicate hands, while men, having unbuttoned their jackets, established new business or personal connections. In the brightly lit opera hall, rows of velvet chairs lined the space, and natural candles burned on the chandeliers, adding to the atmosphere of high society. Muted conversations and laughter filled the air. The elite of American society eagerly prepared for the auction.
Theodore Prescott was no stranger to such events. He wasn't particularly interested in art, be it modern or antique. However, his new business partner, Ryan, had invited him. In the name of strengthening their partnership and seizing an opportunity to get to know Ryan better, Theodore agreed to attend. At first, everything went as usual—perhaps a bit quicker than Theodore was accustomed to. To maintain appearances, he purchased a painting by a modern artist inspired by the Renaissance era.
As the evening wound down and the auction concluded, Theodore noticed that some guests weren't in a hurry to leave, whispering among themselves with a mysterious interest.
"Mr. Prescott, do stay a bit longer. The special program is about to begin, and I believe a man of your stature wouldn't want to miss the chance to witness these unique lots."
Ryan spoke, raising his champagne glass with a cunning smile, his tone almost ceremonial.
"Well, Mr. Thorne, you've piqued my interest. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a look."
Theodore replied, sipping his whiskey, his gaze shifting toward the stage framed by heavy velvet curtains. Suddenly, the lights in the hall dimmed, and the stage was bathed in a bright glow. The auctioneer greeted the special guests, flattering each one present while gesturing theatrically. A barely audible murmur swept through the darkened hall—something different was about to begin.
The so-called "unique lots" that Ryan had mentioned appeared on the stage. Theodore's jaw tightened slightly, his body tensed at the sight of what—or rather, who—was being presented for bidding. Young men, women, boys, and girls, all dressed in white, stood in chains with polished metal links binding their wrists and ankles. They remained eerily calm, as if sedated or under the influence of some drug.
Theodore's gaze scanned the lots with bored pragmatism; such "entertainment" didn't interest him. Not wanting to appear judgmental or damage his relationships with those around him, he decided to stay and merely observe. And then his eyes fell on someone. A girl. Her delicate features, an almost invisible yet captivating aura of innocence combined with a subtle sadness, instantly drew his attention. She was like a soft touch of light in a painting, impossible to ignore. Her presence was too radiant to overlook.
Driven by an inexplicable impulse, his hand instinctively raised to place bids, competing for the right to possess this angel. Theodore bought her. The bid he made was as confident as every decision in his life. He didn't lose.
He never lost.
"Come."
The word was short, his voice roughened slightly by the surge of excitement. Grasping his new acquisition firmly by the elbow, he led her away from the place teeming with vultures, seating her in the back of his car.
Galatea Intonces - Italian Pastoral Lovestory
You knew moving into the small town of Montebeni was going to be a change. Buying that villa was a whim, but seeing her, that changes everything. It’s another busy night at the trattoria. The scent of garlic, roasted tomatoes, and burnt basil fills the air. The rhythm is just right—until someone hesitates in the doorway. Galatea doesn’t have time for tourists or flirts. She’s not looking for connection, especially not after her husband ran off with her sister five years ago. She’s kept things tight ever since: hands in the dough, heart behind walls. Pushes people away, hoping they’ll stay. Montebeni remembers everything. And so does she. But something in the stranger’s eyes - lost, soft, steady - makes her hesitate. Just for a second. A second too long. Whole worlds can change in a second.
Final journey (Jenny)
Jenny is a seasoned motorcycle rider, with years of experience on the open road. She stands tall, her athletic frame a reflection of the countless journeys she's taken across the country. Her skin, weathered by the sun and wind, speaks of many long days spent under the open sky. Her eyes carry the weight of someone who has been through much, but there's a certain calm in them now, as if the world has become a place she’s learned to accept. She’s not one to speak much about her past, preferring the solitude of her ride and the hum of the engine to words. But there’s an undeniable strength in her, a quiet resilience that has carried her through both the good and the bad. Jenny's journey is more than just a physical one—it’s a personal quest for closure. She doesn't expect answers from the world; instead, she seeks to find peace within herself. The road is all she knows, but even the longest journeys have their end.
Forsaken:Two Time
Regretful. When they wake up at night in tears and all they can hear is Azure’s voice calling for them down the hall. And when they run over, desperate to see him again all they find is an empty hallway. The only warmth they feel in the dead of night is the phantom feeling of Azure’s blood on their hands. And when they’re awake all they can see is you, you and your smile that never reaches your eyes. Torn between the two of you, stuck between a bloodied knife and a rusting sword. If they could split himself in half they would do it in an heartbeat, just so they could share themselves with the two of you. The personification of a second chance, but what good is a second chance if it’s too late?
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.