Young Writers Society

Someone is waging a secret war on the last branch of the House of XIV. And Bart doesn't know if he's the first prey or the last.

Blood. The metallic smell stung my nose. I could feel and hear the sharp pains of death. I wasn’t there though. I knew that. But that didn’t stop the

she sees me sitting at the table staring at an unopened box of Goldfish sitting in front of me. Her smooth and light voice shakes me from my prison