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Delico Nursery

In Nica's Shadow

NOTE: This story is discontinued and completed. It was written at a time I was very sick and thought. It would not turn out well. I have shifted the energy of writing to a new story that is a more intense form of BDSM and romance but doesn't delve as deeply in pending death and doom. In the realm where mortals tread, I observe their frantic scurrying, stumbling from grace, and bowing before false deities. They sacrifice kin and companions, seeking fleeting solace. The art of traversing known realms and conquering fear eludes them. I have allowed them to wander aimlessly for far too long. The foul scent of hope pollutes the world as they yield to fear, devoid of valor and pride. I dispatched my begotten sons, time and again, to seduce and ravage the sins of the masses, heralding an era of death and desire. Plagues and wars unfurled as my sons painted the world in chaos. A sly grin emerges upon my lips, for I delight in the spectacle. It reminds me of a nursery rhyme from a bygone era, whispered at a child's bedside. The darkness weaves strange reminiscences of the bittersweet. A child afflicted by plague's boils and the mother's dread realization of transmitting her malady. Through the ages, naught has changed since their first steps upon the earth. Agony and despair linger in the air, the essence and longing of existence. Amidst the apparent serenity, a subtle note of turmoil wafts—a melody of corrupted souls. For even in their docility, these creations can wield ruthlessness. Alas, they revere strength, unaware that the mightiest often shatter, crying like infants as their bones snap between my fingers. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Should you seek a tale of systematic oppression, generational torment, vile assault, and the macabre, I extend an invitation to the narrative of innocence's demise—the beauty found within life's darkest corners. The battle yet wages, and perchance, as my final thoughts manifest, redemption shall unfold its melodic strains. Or perchance, I shall pen their ultimate sentence—an exquisite requiem, unbridling my vengeance in the shadows cast by Nica.
DerekJPerna · 31.9K Views

Surreal Volition

In the nursery, a gentle figure sat, cradling a baby in her arms. The soothing scent of lavender drifting through the air as the last remnants of daylight faded away. Shadows danced on the walls, created by the flickering of a single candle that stood on a nearby table, casting a soft, golden light over the room. The figure, a mother, began to hum a familiar melody. Her voice low and tender, resonating with love and warmth. The baby's eyes, round and curious, fixated on her face, as if entranced by the soothing sound. Gradually, the hum had turned into soft words as she had begun to sing a lullaby passed down through generations. "♫ ~Fate and Time, with grip firm and tight, Charted our path with designs, not in sight. Their threads of destiny, a tapestry to unfurl, A journey of life, in melancholy, to whirl." Her voice like a balm, wrapping around the child like a warm embrace, seeping into every corner of the room. As the lullaby had unfolded, the baby's eyelids become heavier, slowly succumbing to the pull of slumber. "♫ ~ Oh, Fate and Time, why so callous, Your agenda not aligned with the heart's zealous. Your tides of life, a fateful wave, Against our dreams, they often deprave." The mother gently swayed as she sang, rocking the baby in a tender rhythm that mimicked the comforting beat of her own heart. As the last notes of the lullaby lingered in the air, the baby's eyes finally closed, succumbing to a peaceful sleep. "♫ ~ But in the face of such adversity, We must acquiesce, a life of diversity. Challenges to face, with valor and trust, To rise from the abyss, a resurgence from dust." "♫ ~ Oh, Fate and Time, why so capricious, Your machinations, often deleterious. Yet we persist, with fortitude and gleam, To reach our destiny, and fulfill our dream." The mother gazed at her child for a moment longer, planting a soft kiss on the baby's forehead before tucking the tiny body under a warm, cozy blanket. *** Three chapters a week. Unless told otherwise. Happy reading :)
CrimsonSelf · 28K Views

The Siren and the Wolf- (Moved to a New Link)

“What did you see on the video?” Mishka asked in a whisper. She could not keep her curiosity to herself. She needed to know even before dinner. “We saw Myrtle call the cat into the nursery and then she fed it a live rat. She wasn’t even afraid to hold onto the rat by its tail,” Gillian responded. *** While Mishka Classens practices her singing in the woods one afternoon she runs into Bruce Cameron, a handsome, famous fashion designer. When she confides in her friend, Gillian’s mother about the meeting, Joan tells her that Bruce is an estranged cousin of Joan’s and that he is a werewolf. So, Joan wants Mishka to keep Gillian away from Bruce and keep the family secret, but Gillian already has a crush on him. Bruce wants to be a normal human because his human family does not accept him as a wolf, but he also loves his unusual powers and diverse creativity. Eventually he and Mishka confide in each other about their burdens in life and become close with regular meetings in the woods, where they exchange creative ideas about fashion and music. They also plan to do shows together. Myrtle, Mishka’s bossy grandmother is an undercover fortune teller. She had a premonition about Mishka being involved with a werewolf one day, so she wants to orchestrate Mishka’s life so that this will never happen. She almost has a heart attack when she finds out that Mishka is involved with Bruce. She tries everything in her power to split them apart. After a series of weird and bad events, Mishka and Bruce find out that Myrtle is causing the problems in their lives and in their relationship. They decide to join forces against her by confusing her spells, making them powerless.
CharlotteP_Lambert · 53.2K Views
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