Fantasy Stories

I was the luckiest guy in school. Paula Jenson, the prettiest girl in school, asked me out. Me, Brendan Jasper, the overweight nerd with a shirt pocket full of pens, out on a date. Well, it wasn't a date.

There was never a boy who lived in a situation like Jeremiah. Every kid since the dawn of time had been taken care of by another human at some point in their lives. Most were blessed enough to have at least one loving person in their life. Jeremiah was fortunate enough to have two guardians who loved him very much. What made his situation unique was they weren't humans at all.

It's been a month since I canceled that stupid subscription my sister ordered for me. If I had known my life would turn out like this, I would've happily let the pile of beauty magazines live in my bathroom.

Nothing in life is perfect, even my girlfriend. Don't get me wrong, she is amazing, not to mention: beautiful, intelligent, witty, caring, and eagerly accepts any opportunity to be with me. By all metrics, I have one great gal. There is one problem, her hair hates me. Now you might be asking yourself, her hair? How? Let me explain.

"Honey, I'm home!" Alfred announced from the doorway.

"Alright, which one of you motherfuckers did it?" Carver said, barging through the doors of the conference room. Around the elongated oval table were several men and a woman. They all wore the same generic black business suits, but had different colored ties. Their heads turned away from the TV at the back concrete wall and gave Carver the attention he demanded.

The wind howled outside, twirling the wind chimes hanging by the window. A frail woman laid on the worn couch, pale as milk. Her blue eyes were transfixed on the metal chimes that were barely hanging on to life, much like her own situation. The only difference was she wasn't alone and the wind was her own doing.

“But Mom! There’s a monster under my bed!” Timmy begged, hearing something scurry underneath.

“Yes, I know. You may play with him in the morning dear, but now it’s bedtime.”

Timmy shook under his blue covers. How was he supposed to sleep if there was a monster under his bed? Didn't she understand the whole concept of a monster?

A man in a black sweater stood alone in a white room that seemed to go on forever in any direction. His boots crunched under him from the chunks of dirt still stuck in his soles. He only took a few steps and looked around, unsure how he got here.

"Where am I?" he said to the white void, not really expecting an answer.

“Oh, crap! I fold you I am a princess, right?” my girlfriend, Mitzy, asked and squeezed my arm.

I grabbed her pale little wrist. "You know normal couples save role play for the bedroom or Halloween, but I guess I'm down for it."

"I'm serious, Jason."

"That's Prince Jason to you!" I said, raising my hand. I didn't get to look at her expression since I was driving, but I'm sure she was smiling.

Maddie brushed her teeth, making sure her pearly whites sparkled in the mirror. This was the night she had been waiting for. The first night with her husband, Nick. Her black hair was as pristine as her toned body in her nightgown that had little black wings on it. She wanted to make it special. After all, you only get to turn your husband into a vampire once.

A bushy haired man named Branson was sitting up on his faded couch that proudly wore the scars of a glorified scratching post. Sitting on the other side of his smoke glass end table were two detectives donning drab grey suits. Their badges were the only colorful part of their attire, perched on their belts next to the spare magazine.

"Death!" Satan yelled at the top of his lungs, storming up the spiral cobblestone staircase. Soot coated the hot steps and grey ash filled the crevices.

He got to the top of the keep that overlooked the fiery hellscape of...well...Hell. Death stood in his normal business attire, a midnight black cloak, gazing over the tortured souls in the lake of fire. Their screams moved like a breeze, whispering their pain to anyone that would hear it.

"What up, Lucy?" Death said, still entranced by the horrific scene below.

The turbine chugged and coughed black smoke as Pete wrenched on the propeller. Another failed attempt. Pete wiped the sweat from his brow and walked around the silver plane.

"David, how many times do I have to do this?" Pete asked, looking up at the masked pilot.

“Dead men tell no tales? Wrong, Your Honor. As a necromancer, I summon the soul of my first witness, the victim.”

In an instant, the silent courtroom was abuzz with chatter from the people in the back. The mother of the victim wailed at the mere thought of her son coming back from the dead.

"Order!" the judge demanded, smashing his gavel into splinters that showered both attorneys. 

"I can't believe it." Billy scrolled through the never ending pictures of himself on his crush's phone. "She's...obsessed with me.”

"BS,” Devin said, trying to grab the phone away from him.

Billy moved down a seat at the cafeteria table. "I'm serious."

"May I ask why you think my love potion will save your marriage?" the witch asked, walking behind the counter to face a wall of shelves with different color jars.

"Because I see no other way to get past what happened," Timothy said, looking down at the counter.

Donavan hung up the corded phone on the wall. "Do you mind if I make another call?"

The guard pushed off the wall he was leaning against. "No more calls. Back to your cell."

Donavan sighed. "I thought so."

"What is the count at now?" Benny asked, adjusting his top hat.

The other men and one woman said nothing, sitting around the circular oak table. They all stared at Hitchcock, the resident communication leader for the City of Aloran. Hitchcock took a deep breath before pressing the button on his radio.

"City of Bloran. This is City of Aloran. What is your current count?" Hitchcock said and held his breath.

Matthew stood at the altar of his problems. Before him two women were torn to shreds, blood splattered everywhere in his hotel room. The carpet was crimson and the walls were like abstract paintings if they only used different shades of red. This was the consequence of making anyone he pointed to fall in love with him.

“I think I misheard you. You want to send bread into space?” Mr. Banaszkiewicz said.

“No Mr. Banaszkiewicz, I want to send a rocket made of bread to space. It is completely different,” Barry said, adjusting his spectacles.

Quiet conversations blended together with the soothing sound of the piano that played in the middle of the dimly lit room. A waiter weaved between the tables in his darker than black suit and bow tie, arriving at a table of two who were lost in each other’s eyes.

“Lobster Thermidor and Lamb Shank,” the waiter said, placing their meals in front of them.

Glass rained from the sky, while men in tactical gear descended upon me like black angels of death. There was nothing I could do in the dark complex filled with giant silver vats. My team had abandoned me and so too had my rivals. As I floated in a glowing vat of smooth, pure white yogurt sprinkled with orangutan piss and bad choices, I dwelled upon everything that led up to this moment. It all started with a job.

The sun was high in the sky and white cloud floated above, smiling down upon the land. The land, however, did not smile back. Dust and blood was all that laid on the barren land. My people were almost done loading the bodies into the trucks while I lit another cigar with a magnifying glass.

A pale man in a grey suit walked backwards down a dark floor made of coffin lids facing his tour group, a bunch of school children dressed in capes and fake fangs. At the children's side was a chaperone who had been giving him “the look” the entire tour. They came up to a large clear window on their right, framed with wooden stakes and polar bears were playing in the snow.

“On your right, you will see our prized attraction here at the Vampirical Zoo, our Polar Bears,” the pale man said.

“Honey, get the bat,” Eve whispered, shaking her husband awake in their bed.

“Huh, what’s going on.” Jake rubbed his eyes.

“There is someone downstairs.”

Jake threw the blanket off and rolled out of bed. He grabbed the Louisville Slugger that was leaning against the window sill and left the room. Jake peeked downstairs to see a red butt sticking out his fireplace, legs trying to push his fat body up.

The dew of the early morning swept across the field, sparkling from the moonlight. Evan dug his feet into the soft ground, lifting his sword at the ready. His opponent was stoic, unconcerned with Evan’s sword.

“Take this!” Evan yelled, charging his opponent.

I want to start by saying I love my girlfriend. She is the best. Heedy is thoughtful and a very giving person. But her timing is terrible. This is the tale of how I wound up living with her parents in the Magic Realm instead of Iowa.

A frail old man held up an oversized card with a picture of someone on it and a name scribbled below.

"Not him," The Chooser said, giving it a cursory glance.

The old man tossed the card amongst the sea of cards that covered the floor and reached up to grab another card from the stack next to him. The Chooser paced back and forth, parting the sea of unchosen cards with his feet. The old man shook, reaching for the next card.