《Story ideas (would like input)》


 comedy/light hearted story - Idea 1

    "Where do i begin?" I say. So many things had happened, so much shit.


    "i don''t know what you mean man," Mike says innocently from across the room, a chicken in his lap. I just stare at him, honestly just speechless at how he even thought trying to play guiltless in all this was an option.


    "I swear to god dude," i take a deep breath trying to calm down. I look around in the room, three chickens in all. The room was totalled. Gone. The sofa was half way out the smashed window, the table had been flipped, and the vase broken with a puddle of water and flowers around it. A fairly expensive painting i had bought at auction for really cheap was ripped through the middle, and "someone" had drawn a big fat cock on it, which was honestly WAY too well drawn. The door out of the room was blocked with a chair, and Cheryl. She lay awkwardly across it, and somehow slept, snoring a whole storm.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I looked back at Mike. I took another deep breath, closed my eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again.


    "You massive fucking IDIOT!" I yell it so loud Cheryl grunted from her seat at the door, but she doesn''t wake up. Mike squints at me. The chicken on his lap seem just as scared, and as if from some stupid sitcom, it lays an egg, right there, on Mike''s lap. He stares incredulously at the egg. He looks up at me with an amazed expression.


    "yo, do you see this? the chicken just..."


    "... I SAW WHAT THE CHICKEN DID!" I yell at him, and my head hurts with exhaustion. Cheryl moves from over on her chair once again, and seems to actually wake up. She looks over at us, and shortly around the room.


    "Would you guys shut up? I''m trying to sleep." I stare at her with a mixed feeling of hatred and equal parts amazement. How, just how the hell do you give so little shits about... anything. Mike is still busy with the egg, holding it up in the light from the window, and the chicken is circling him to make sure he isn''t up to anything funny. "keep an eye on him," i think to myself as i get up from the corner of the room.

 Something in the middle (maybe fantasy further along) - Idea 2

    Chad whistles as he trudges along the road. There are trees on both sides of the road, thickly packed forests filled with the sound of birds singing their heart out in the hopes of finding a mate. The sun is visible just above the trees and the morning mist is dissipating as the sun heats up the ground and creatures from a cold night. A layer of dew lays on the grass and leafs of the trees. It''s mid spring and the days are still short and nights too cold to sleep under the blue sky. The road is busy to and from Chad''s destination, Rane. It''s the capital town of the eastern most kingdom, Dintis, a region far bigger than it''s neighbor kingdom, Shuterra.


    People on the road push and shove past each other as the town and the gate grows closer and the road, busier. Chad walks without trouble past to traders who are in a rush to get out of town, one of them bumps into him, and stumbles a few feet before quickly getting back to his partner. Chad''s a big guy, muscular, a little above average height and intimidating. He has black hair and irises, wearing simple but new clothes in a boring brown color. After a little bit more walking, the traffic stops, and a line appears. Chad looks around a big caravan, and sees a guard checking everybody before letting them in. Chad sighs, seeing as how there are two caravans and a dozen more people, waiting to get access to the town in front of him.


    After just under one hour Chad finally gets to stand face to face with the guard. He''s taller than Chad, but less broad, even with his armor on. He looks up and down Chad, holding a pen to a piece of paper in his hand.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Any weapons or other equipment we should know of?" The guard keeps checking Chad. Chad smiles disarmingly and reaches a hand back grabbing a big pole made of wood strapped to his backpack. The backpack is almost empty, safe from some rations and some rope. Chad holds the pole out in front of him towards the guard who eyes it, confused.


    "not unless you would call this oversized stick a weapon," Chad says with a smile. The guard stares it a while longer before shaking his head, he looks down at his papers and writes something down.


    "Name?" the guard asks next. Chad thinks about the question for a second.


    "Chad," he says then, content with his answer. The guard looks up at him, anticipating more. When he realises chad isn''t going to say anymore he just sighs, and writes something more on his piece of paper, already filled with a bunch of other names and information. Without looking up he waves Chad along, as he keeps writing something. Chad is about to continue when he decides to ask:


    "say, why is the security so high?" The guard looks up from his paperwork once again, looking at Chad. He looks positively baffled. He stares at chad for another few seconds before talking.


    "Are you serious? you don''t know?" He just stares at Chad. Chad makes no move to answer and the guard sighs for the third time through their short conversation.


    "There is a big festival, a party to celebrate the marriage between the princess and the prince of our neighbor kingdoms and soon to be king." Chad nods understanding, and is honestly surprised how he missed that himself. Seemed like a big deal, and festivals would probably be held in all the semi big towns around the kingdom. Guess Chad had just been on the go for so long he hadn''t really heard any news of any such thing.

 More dark story - idea 3 (has gore)

    I Slowly pull the dagger from the just under the shoulder blade. The sound is almost unbearable, if not for the fact that i had heard it many times before. The sound of steel cutting flesh, the sound of blood spouting out as arteries and veins are slit open. I kick the body so it topples over. The face of a man unaware that he was killed look up at me. The man is fat, and has a poorly kept grey beard. His hair is still slightly brown though the sides seem to be mostly grey. He is wearing only some old, worn pants, bare-chested. I''m standing in a small room, with no decorations or anything but the necessities. To some degree it reminds me of my own room, but more filthy. There is a small fire on my right and a concoction of some sort brewing on it, possibly dinner. the only other thing in the room is a table and a single chair. The table is stacked with leftovers from other nights. Mostly empty cups with an unmistakable stank of beer.


    "what a scum," I mumble as I place two fingers on the man''s neck. Sure enough, the man is dead. Never that I doubted it, the knife had gone straight through his heart. Only thing left to do was make sure this was the right person. It seemed almost silly checking for proof since the man had been here, in his very own house, but you never knew, maybe just a thief who visited at the wrong time and place. I started by searching the table, since it was the only likely place for there to be any identification other then on the man himself. Beneath a stack of plates that were all cracked or completely broken in half or more pieces, I found what all I needed. A picture frame with the man who now lay dead on the ground, and a beautiful lady I instantly recognised. My contractor. I looked back at the dead man, he had gained a lot of weight since this picture was taken. In the picture he looked like a very respectable man, his beard, opposed to now, was well groomed and his hair set back. Something had happened between the two partners, something significant enough for the wife to want this man dead. Whatever it was, I wasn''t getting mixed up in it.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.