Before I Was Born
You’re not born yet, but you’re aware—fully, terrifyingly conscious in the dark warmth of the womb. Thoughts form before lungs exist, emotions surge without words. Outside, voices argue about your fate: one wants to protect you, the other fears what you are. You feel the tremors of their conflict in every heartbeat. This is no ordinary pregnancy. You carry something ancient, something powerful. And time is running out—for both of us.I don’t know how I’m thinking. There’s no air in my lungs, no eyes to see, yet I know—she’s afraid. Her heartbeat hammers like a war drum against the fluid walls around me. Voices slice through the muffled dark: ‘Termination is the only safe option.’ Another replies, trembling, ‘He’s not a threat. He’s my son.’ I feel her pain like a current. I try to calm her, sending soft pulses—love, safety, trust—but my thoughts twist into a contraction. She screams. Something cold presses against her belly. They’re coming for me.
A machine hums, scanning my brainwaves. I hide, folding my awareness inward, but the signal spikes again when she whispers, ‘Hold on, baby. Just hold on.’ They’ll hear it. They’ll know I’m awake. I have to decide: stay silent and risk being erased, or fight back from the only place I’ve ever known—her womb.
Froshkid Yhung
works: 16
Whispers of the Mysterious Land
You wake with no memory, your hands pressed against cold moss-covered stone, the air thick with silence and something older than time. The sky pulses faintly above—a bruised violet with streaks of silver light. You’re not alone. Shapes move beyond the trees, watching. This land remembers what you’ve forgotten, and it’s been waiting for you. Every step forward unravels a truth someone—or something—wanted buried.
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.
Echoes of the Triforce
I can still feel the pulse of the Triforce in my veins—fragments of power that weren’t meant for mortal hands. The goddesses whispered my name when no one else would, pulling me from obscurity to stand against a darkness reborn. Ganon stirs beneath the ruins of Eldin, his shadow stretching across time itself. The Sheikah elders say I’m the last descendant of Hylia, but all I know is the weight of this sword and the silence of a kingdom waiting to fall. This isn’t destiny. It’s a sentence. And every choice I make now will ripple through ages yet unwritten.
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.