What you think does matter

The Hidden Monster Wars Chapter Four The sanctuary had fallen quiet, but the silence felt heavy, like the moments after a thunderstorm when the air is still charged. The soft hum of the repaired barrier echoed faintly, the glowing runes on the trees shining steadily now. It was almost peaceful, but the smell of burnt ash lingered in the air, a grim reminder of what had just happened. I stared down at the sword in my hand. Its glow had dimmed to a faint shimmer, and it felt oddly warm, like it had its own heartbeat. My arms trembled under its weight, though I couldn’t tell if it was the sword or the adrenaline crash. “Sam?” Mia’s voice broke through my thoughts, soft and tentative. She knelt beside me, her hand brushing my shoulder. “Are you okay?” I looked at her, my vision blurry from unshed tears. “I—I think so. But that…that was insane. I didn’t even know I could do that.” Her face was pale, smudged with dirt and streaked with sweat, but her eyes held something I hadn’t seen before:...

The howl grew louder, a bone-rattling sound that seemed to vibrate through the ground. It wasn’t just one howl now but many, rising into an eerie chorus that made the air feel heavier, like a storm pressing down on us. Around us, the sanctuary pulsed faintly with its protective energy, but cracks had started to spiderweb through the glowing runes on the trees. The soft hum of magic had shifted into a faint, discordant whine. Evelyn’s face tightened, her jaw set like iron. “This is it. They’re coming.” Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a sharpness that made the hair on my arms stand up. She tossed Brady a crossbow, its worn wood gleaming in the dim light, then turned to me and Mia. “Stick together. Watch each other’s backs,” Evelyn ordered, her green eyes locking with mine. “And remember what I taught you.” “What about you?” Mia’s voice cracked as she spoke, her hands trembling slightly on the hilt of her sword. “I’ll hold the line,” Evelyn said without hesitation, pullin...

I couldn’t sleep. Not that I didn’t try—I buried myself in the threadbare blankets Evelyn handed us, curled up on the creaky couch, and squeezed my eyes shut. But every time I did, I saw glowing eyes, claws, and teeth. I kept hearing that horrible howl. Mia was on the other end of the couch, just as restless. Every few minutes, she shifted or sighed. Finally, she sat up, her face pale in the dim light of the fireplace. "Sam, are you awake?" she whispered. "Yeah." My voice cracked, betraying how freaked out I was. Mia hugged her knees. "Do you think it’s true? What Evelyn said? That this...weapon...is connected to us?" I shrugged, though she probably couldn’t see it. "I don’t know. None of this makes any sense. Maybe it’s all some big mistake." "Does it feel like a mistake to you?" she asked, her voice quiet but sharp. I didn’t answer. By morning, Evelyn had transformed the cabin into a battlefield prep zone. Weapons were laid out on the...

My name is Samantha Blake, and my high school just became ground zero for a war no one else seems to notice. Vampires, werewolves, and monsters—yeah, the kind from scary movies—are real. And they go to   my school . It started during third-period biology. I was dissecting a frog, trying not to gag, when Jayden, the guy who sat in the back, bolted out of his seat. "Mr. Dyer, can I go to the nurse? I feel sick," he said, clutching his stomach. Jayden was one of those quiet, keeps-to-himself guys. But something about the way he moved felt...off. His steps were too smooth, like he was gliding. "Go ahead," Mr. Dyer replied, barely looking up. Jayden shot a glance at Vanessa, who was sitting two rows over. She stiffened, her blue eyes narrowing into slits. They stared at each other for a long moment, like they were talking without words. Weird. At lunch, I sat at my usual table with Mia, my best friend, and Eric, who always stole fries off my tray. Today, though, neither ...

I stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the creaks and groans of our old house. I wasn’t scared—no, not scared—because monsters weren’t real. That’s what my dad always said. “Big boys aren’t afraid of the dark, Simon. There’s nothing there.” But tonight, the shadows seemed different, deeper somehow. My bed felt smaller, like the darkness was closing in around me. My parents had gone to an important dinner, leaving me with Sarah, a quiet girl who barely said two words since they’d left. She sat glued to the TV downstairs while I was stuck up here, alone. The clock on my nightstand blinked 9:47 PM in glowing red numbers. I rolled over, squeezing my eyes shut, when I heard it. Eeee-creeeeak. The door. My door. Slowly opening. I sat up, my heart hammering in my chest. The hallway outside was empty—at least, that’s what it looked like. “Sarah?” I called, my voice shaking. No answer. The door, which I had closed tightly, now hung ajar, its hinges whining like something had pushed it open....

 Hi, I’m Ellie, and this is the story of how I almost helped an alien take over my neighborhood. It all started with a tiny yellow stone I found in my backyard. I was digging around in the garden, looking for interesting rocks to add to my collection, when I saw it: a smooth, round stone that seemed to glow faintly, even in the shade. It was bright yellow, almost like a drop of liquid sunlight. “This would be perfect for Mom’s necklace,” I thought. My mom’s a jeweler, and she’s always restoring old pieces of jewelry. She had this one necklace—a delicate silver chain with a missing center stone—that she could never finish because she hadn’t found the right gem. I decided to surprise her. Over the next few days, I worked on the stone in secret. It wasn’t easy. The stone was much harder than it looked, and no matter how much I chipped away, it always stayed smooth and shiny, like it was polishing itself. Weird, right? But I didn’t think too much about it at the time. When I finally f...

Hi, I’m Ellie, and last weekend I got tangled up in the weirdest mystery of my life. It all started with Mr. Whiskers—Mrs. Thornton’s grumpy, fat, gray tabby who lives two houses down. Everyone in the neighborhood knows Mr. Whiskers. He’s famous for hissing at kids and stealing hot dogs off backyard grills. But last week, Mr. Whiskers vanished. Mrs. Thornton knocked on every door on our street, asking if anyone had seen him. “He’s never wandered off like this before!” she cried. “He always comes home for dinner!” I wanted to help, mostly because I felt bad for Mrs. Thornton. So I decided to search for Mr. Whiskers. At first, I didn’t find much. A paw print here, a tuft of fur there. Then I saw something strange . In the yard next door, Tyler—the kid I barely talked to because he was so quiet—was sitting on his porch, petting Mr. Whiskers . The thing was, Mr. Whiskers didn’t look grumpy or annoyed, like he usually did around humans. He was sitting perfectly still, staring up at Tyler l...