BoyAndTheTiger
I was seven when I first saw the tiger emerge from the jungle mist, its golden eyes locking onto mine like it could see every fear I’d ever buried. The villagers say it’s a spirit guardian—or a curse. But after my family vanished in the night, leaving me alone with nothing but echoes, the tiger didn’t kill me. It waited. Now, every morning, it returns, silent and watchful. I don’t know if it’s protecting me… or waiting for me to follow it into the wild where no child has ever come back from.The tiger stood at the edge of the clearing, muscles coiled like springs beneath its striped coat, ears flicked forward—not toward me, but the smoke rising beyond the trees. They were coming. Again.
My bare feet sank into the damp earth as I stepped closer, heart slamming against my ribs. "They’ll cut down the grove," I whispered. "Burn the stones."
It turned its head slowly, breath fogging the cold air, and stared at me like it expected an answer. Like I was the one who had to decide.
Behind us, the jungle pulsed with hidden life. Ahead, the road brought machines that roared and stank of oil. The tiger lowered its shoulder, offering its back—not in surrender, but invitation.
Go home. Run. Or climb on and vanish into the green dark forever.
Froshkid Yhung
works: 14
Immortal Taoist
I feel the weight of centuries in my bones, though my face remains unchanged by time. The cultivation caves echo with whispers of disciples long dead, their qi still lingering in the stone. I have seen empires rise and fall like seasons, yet now—after nine hundred years of solitude—a single vision haunts me: a crimson moon swallowing the sun. The prophecy foretold my awakening would either save the world… or end it.
LegendOfTheSword
I still remember the weight of the sword the first time I lifted it—like it was alive, like it remembered what I had forgotten. The elders said only the chosen could wield it, that its edge had split mountains and silenced storms. Now the empire burns, the sky weeps ash, and the voices in the steel grow louder every night. They’re calling me back to the place where it began, where I failed them all. This isn’t just a weapon. It’s a curse. And it’s mine.
Vanishing Point
I always believed the sky would keep its secrets. Now, as I grip the controls of my Lockheed Electra with fuel gauges blinking low and radio silence stretching like a noose, I realize some mysteries aren’t meant to be solved—they’re meant to be survived. The last transmission from Howland Island faded into static. My compass spins. And beyond the cockpit glass, the ocean below isn’t reflecting the sun. It’s swallowing it. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I followed every calculation, trusted every instinct. But now, something ancient stirs beneath the waves, calling me down. If I descend, I might find answers no human was meant to know. If I fight, I’ll run out of fuel before dawn. The world thinks I vanished in 1937. They don’t know I chose to disappear.
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.