Christopher White
Stories
7
Chapters
3,796
Words
352.2 K
Comments
0
Reading
1 d, 5 h
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It had come just like a playful challenge but at the end, Kan found himself taking off his clothes one after the other. Kan pulled off his large baggy shift first, revealing his body. Nora's eyes ran a full course around his head down to his abdomen and then her hands subtly scratched the bag of her neck as her gaze fell on Kan's defined abdominal muscles. Kan noticed how she had glared at him and the suddenly, a thought came into his mind, an idea rather and he acted on it. .. "Huh,…-
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There were a bunch of things Kan found quite interesting about Nora. For one, her dress sense was quite peculiar for a world he thought at first was quite distant from his. However, he soon found that they shared a lot of similarities. However, none of that seemed to matter at the moment. The atmosphere had immediately changed the minute the speaker was turned on and Nora channelled her inner dance freak. She gesticulated wildly and at some point, Kan felt it was all rather too much. Well, that was…
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"Oh wow, that's quite a lot," Kan said, scratching his head a bit, not knowing what next to say. As far as anything went, Nora had given quite a good argument as to why she does what she does. Her paintings were all actual naked images of herself. What Kan found interesting though was the dynamics with which each one had. No two were the same in terms of appearance or even texture by mere looking at it. It was obvious this wasn't just a hobby, Kan felt she might have had some practice or lessons…
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"Soo Nora, what are you doing here?!" Kan asked, his voice carrying a playful lilt, enjoying the intrigue of their unexpected meeting. "Oh nothing, just went to get some supplies and on my way back up, I saw you trying to break the door with your head. What's up with that?" Nora inquired, her smile sly and her eyes alight with mischief. "Hehehe..don't mind me. So you said supplies huh? What kind? You...you want to cook?" Kan interjected, steering the conversation away from his peculiar door-opening…
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Kan emerged from the hospital room, clad in a black cargo pants and a slightly oversized black t-shirt. Despite the loose fit, he felt comfortable, appreciating the extra room the shirt provided. He strolled through the hallway, a silent observer to the ebb and flow of activity around him. Among the scenes he passed, a stretcher bore a man with a conspicuously enlarged left arm, bearing the hallmarks of a werewolf. Kan's curiosity was piqued. Why was this patient being rushed in? He continued to…
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or "Err... yes," Kan answered in his mind, and then the box opened right in front of him. The experience felt as though it was unfolding in real time, yet the seamless integration of the system interface with his mind created this illusion. ?First touch - What's that thing you'd like to say? What's that feeling you'd like to convey but can't? Well, it ends here. You might as well have unlocked the most broken skill in your arsenal. With First touch, it's not on you anymore but them. Touch any…
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Kan woke up to find a note by his side. Ellie had stated that she needed to go home and freshen up, change into something different. This made sense considering she was always with Kan all day and although he may not have the nose of a werewolf, any more persistence and he would have picked up on her fish breath. The others, Jessica and co had come over to his room to see him. They had given him an update as well that Kane was recovering just fine. Kan was relieved even though he couldn't exactly…
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Opening his eyes, sounds of machines beeping caught kan's attention. He could hear footsteps past the door closing him from the outside world. He looked around to see he was on a bed surrounded by multiple equipments which quickly gave away his location. He was in a hospital room. The hospital room was a blend of sterility and comfort. Stark white walls surrounded him, illuminated gently by the soft glow of overhead lights. The air held a faint scent of antiseptic, mingling with a subtle undertone…
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In the midst of this urban battleground, Kan and Silo clashed relentlessly. Buildings bore the marks of their fierce combat, their frames now pocked with holes akin to the size of a grown man. From one of these damaged structures emerged Silo, unexpected and bloodied, now finding himself on the wrong end of the fight. Grunting, he heaved a hefty chunk of concrete from his back, evidence of the punishing exchange. Before him stood Kan, unwavering, ready to resume the onslaught. With a resolute charge,…
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In the crucible of night, Silo loomed larger than life, an embodiment of raw power pulsating through him, courtesy of the enigmatic G-viagra. For humans, lacking any magical prowess or supernatural trait, it was a level playing field. It was a potent concoction meant to tip the scales, for humans were bereft of the magical essence that elves and werewolves wielded with ease. They were, in essence, the embodiment of 'normalcy'. But in that moment, none of that mattered to Silo. Before him stood the…
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