Michael Wilson
Stories
10
Chapters
3,765
Words
2.5 M
Comments
0
Reading
8 d, 12 h
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On a sunny morning in Albany, the capital of the state of New York, a historic event was taking place. In front of the majestic Capitol building, thousands of citizens had gathered to witness a much-anticipated moment: the inauguration of the new Governor, Richard Dickson. Richard emerged victorious, receiving mixed responses from the public. Some booed him, and some supported him. Regardless of what people said, he was a governor elected through a fair election system. At 10am, the bells of the old…-
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The room was so quiet, with only the sound of the television filling the space. The campaign team members were anxious, waiting for the election results to come out. Their faces reflected hope. Over the past three months, they had worked tirelessly, putting in blood and sweat to reach this point. Amidst the tension, Klaus remained poker face. He sat calmly in his swivel chair, as if he already knew the outcome. The sound of footsteps diverted their attention from the screen. Richard joined his…
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The much-awaited day had arrived. After three months of campaigning, the general election was finally taking place. Residents of New York gathered at various polling stations to participate in the election process. With the bright blue sky as a backdrop, rows of tents and banners filled the area around the polling places, displaying the identities of the competing candidates vying to lead the state. The spirit of enthusiasm was thick in the air. Rows of voting booths were neatly prepared, awaiting…
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On a quiet, unlit street, a blue car pulled up in front of a dark alley. The driver leaned her head out of the window as she saw a man carrying a bespectacled woman who appeared unconscious. She quickly got out of the car and opened the back door. "Sheila, let's go to the debate venue." Klaus placed Alexa in the back passenger seat. Seeing the CEO unconscious and in pain, Sheila furrowed her brows in curiosity. "Boss, what happened?" "It's nothing. She's alright. Just a minor issue." His response…
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Instead of a woman, she's more appropriately referred to as a girl. She's so young. Klaus could not help but hiss. "You're still a kid," he muttered. "Let go of me!" The girl squirmed, her courage faltering, The girl reminded Klaus of his younger sister. He backed off, refraining from torturing her. If she were an adult, Klaus wouldn't hesitate. "You, punk. Who are you?" Klaus interrogated. Covering her mouth, the girl was reluctant to reveal her name. Her face clearly indicated she was terrified…
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Darkness engulfed Alexa. The bespectacled woman disappeared instantly. "Return her now, or you'll regret it," Klaus stated. His voice was calm, but a threat was present in every word he uttered. The mysterious woman giggled. "You'll have to go through my corpse first if you want her back." Klaus furrowed his brow. Silence fell upon the dark alley. Klaus and the woman in the gray hoodie stood facing each other. The atmosphere was heavy, as if the world itself held its breath in anticipation of an…
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After hours of heated arguments and opinions expressed on the stage, the signs of the debate coming to an end began to appear. The moderator thanked the candidates and the audience for their exceptional participation. The camera spotlight swept across the faces of the candidates, who appeared tired but still managed to muster a smile. As the camera turned towards the audience, they seemed excited and mixed in their reactions. Some held coffee cups or notes, signifying their seriousness in listening…
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All eyes were on Laplace. Her beauty and unique hair color caught the attention of the men. They couldn't take their eyes off her. She truly exuded an uncommon charm. Even Klaus felt it. There was a noticeable difference between Sylvia and Laplace despite inhabiting the same body. While Sylvia was a tomboy who was always grumpy, Laplace was quite the opposite. She was expressive, always wearing a smile on her face. For this reason, Klaus found it strange to see her current appearance. "I thought…
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In a room adorned with posters, a long table supported a stack of papers filled with graphs, polls, and writings. A large television screen hung on the wall, reflecting the latest news images of Richard Dickson and Jonathan Thompson. Seated comfortably in a black leather chair, Klaus was glued to the screen. The murmurs of news voices sounded faintly behind him, but he was completely engrossed in the candidate speaking on the screen. A faint smile curved on his lips as he watched the confident…
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The mysterious man was Klaus. He came by the name Morgan—a pseudonym he used when searching for the missing Sheila. Nodding, the tomboyish-woman understood his reasons for arriving late. She glanced at the green-haired man, using eye contact to urge him to rise from his seat. The green-haired man sighed as he offered his seat to the guest. "Please have a seat, Mr. Morgan. I apologize if there are no good seats. You know where we are, right?" she said. "That's okay. I appreciate your kindness,…
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