That's awesome! I loved reading those growing up.

A great knight is expected to battle many dangers in life. From dangerous terrain to monsters larger than life, there’s no rest for the weary. My days are often faced with trials and tribulations only befitting a hero of legend.

Today was no different.

I conquered the darkness underneath my bed, undeterred by the monsters lurking within. I wrangled a furry four-legged beast into submission and even dared to confront the green demons that plagued my evening meal. Despite these obstacles, I made it through the day relatively unscathed. Or so I thought.

When subduing Max, our four-legged beast of legend, I was wounded in the most pitiful of ways. Max’s altercation with a squirrel led to chaos, and despite my super-strength, the leash I tethered to my furry friend dragged me to the ground. While I was able to control the beast in the end, the scrapes on my knees and elbows bore wounds so horrific, I may never walk again.

But I’m a hero.

I remained strong.

Well, until my evening bath.

That woman that cares for me attempted to remove my pants despite my protests that no fair maiden should witness wounds as bad as mine. But her words were kind, and my dissent soon withered under her persistence. Her eyes widened as she took in my body's trauma, but she claimed to have just the medication to fix it.

Her lips soon puckered, and she planted the softest kisses on each knee.

How dare she kiss me?

The great knight of legend does not require such treatment.

…

But my wounds did feel better.

I asked her to kiss them again, just to make sure they were okay.

After all, I, the great knight of legend, had to be ready for the battles of the next day.

I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

Thanks! I hope you gave the characters different voices!

Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick

“Babe! It’s starting!” I plopped down on the couch as my wife rushed into the room. It was Sunday, and our weekly tradition was about to begin.

“Good evening,” a sweet baritone voice rang out from the TV. “I’m Bill Owens, and tonight we have a special historical edition of 60 Minutes.”

“A historical edition?!” my wife giggled with glee.

“Shhh! I can’t hear Bill.” I shot back.

Bill Owens took a seat in that famous chair and stared directly into the camera, “Murder. A secret society. War. Sex. Cake…” He paused for dramatic effect. “The Cake Wars of the 1700s plunged Europe into chaos…”

My wife interjected, “Did he say cake?”

“Shh!”

“… A young queen, torn down in her prime; the architect. Despite her impending death, her words activated the Red Velvets. A secret society of bakers, sworn to overthrow the stability of Europe. Their sweet tidings were anything but, as Europe was plunged into a new dark age.”

Bill took a deep breath and shuddered, “That’s right. Marie Antoinette, the infamous Queen of France, was responsible for the deaths of millions. The Red Velvets activated by her words many loathe to repeat…”

Bill stood up from the chair and looked into the camera, “… Let them eat cake. Tonight, on 60 minutes.”

My wife’s eyes widened, “Woah.”

I nodded, “Crazy right? I told you it would be a good one. Pass the popcorn.”

Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick Tick

I'm glad you enjoyed it!

“Absolutely not, I refuse. I will not be entertaining such frivolity, it’s beneath me.” He sneered as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

The man was the picture of snobbery. His nose twitched in defiance as his white pressed shirt was tucked within his grey slacks. His feet sported the latest loafers, some foreign leather I probably couldn’t pronounce. His face had one of those fake tans you had to pay for, and it highlighted the point on his nose.

I bent over to stretch the back of my hamstrings before giving my shoelaces a quick tug. They needed to be snug, we’d be running after all. “Now, now Jeffrey, no need to get all uppity.”

Jeffrey’s face went a shade of red. I could tell he was in a stiff debate internally, deciding whether to tell me to shove my challenge someplace unpleasant.

“You know the law, Jeffrey. If you decline, I don’t just get a small piece of your fortune, I get the whole thing.” I flashed him a smug smile knowing he was trapped.

Out of all the rich jerks to challenge, Jeffrey was my guy. He was a bit different from the others. Despite being born into money, I remembered Jeffrey as a child filled with laughter and eyes that lacked any form of prejudice.

My friend.

He was in there, and I was going to get him out.

Jeffrey gave a resigned sigh, “Very well. I accept your challenge.”

“Excellent.” One last tug on my laces and I was ready to go.

“But before I begin…” he gestured around him. “…what are we doing here?”

I slapped my friend on the shoulder. “Jeffrey my good man, this is where the game is.”

His dubious eyes took in the rundown street. Trash littered the sides, and the houses that still stood were rundown and synonymous with the poverty that plagued the area. The street had several large potholes and cracks. It lacked sidewalks and streetlights, but thankfully the sun had a few hours left.

I glanced down at Jeffrey’s loafers before raising my eyebrows, “You sure you want to play in those?”

“Yes, yes. Let’s just get on with it.” He waved me off.

We stared at each other in silence, eyes locked. We both seemed afraid that if we should blink, the other would gain an insurmountable advantage. The silence stretched on and I felt a smile tug at my lips.

Then, the rest of the players arrived.

“Tag!” a small girl giggled. “You're it, Mr. Jeffrey!”

The crowd of kids and I bolted, and laughter rang through the empty streets.

I looked back at my friend and saw his smile, the same childlike one from long ago, and I knew I had won.

Very polished! Nice work.

Well done!

My body felt a chill as I attempted to wiggle my fingers and toes. They didn’t respond. I groaned as I felt the cold ground beneath me.

I was in trouble.

I knew better than to try and outrun that last shot, but its aim was true, and it struck the center of my back. Now, face down, I wondered if this was the end.

My face was numb, and I’m pretty sure if I could see them, my lips would sport a deep blue. Everything was so cold. I was listless, sprawled out to die on this accursed field. Despair overtook me, the odds were overwhelming. What could a man do against such reckless hate? Was there any hope left?

No.

But I had to try anyway.

I dragged my hands down towards my chest in a feeble attempt to prop my body up, only able to make it to my knees. The soft crunching of footsteps grew louder as my adversary advanced, only to stop right in front of me. Mud splattered his dark brown boots, but the quality was still much better than my own. Typical. Even his equipment far outstripped my own.

As I looked up, the sun loomed behind his head, blurring his facial features to me. I squinted my eyes, trying to decipher the blurry mess.

“Any last words?” he sneered.

I felt the air catch in my chest, as the cold seemed to have seeped into every fiber of my being. The chill made me rasp back my response, “I will win this war.” I allowed myself a small smile. Ever defiant till the end.

The man’s big belly shook in mirth as he let out a raucous laugh. “War? You do not yet know war. You are a child who tasted their first autumn frost and called it winter.”

He bent down and scooped up his weapon, before holding it over my head.

“Goodbye… son.”

He dropped his weapon, a gargantuan snowball, and it sent me crashing back to the ground covered in white powder.

I laid there, defeated.

The silence that followed was pierced by the shrill scream of a woman.

“Boys! It's cocoa time!” mom shouted. “Oh, and don’t you dare bring that mud into my house!”

Thanks, you are too kind! I would recommend checking out the mob story and Artemis one I did yesterday, I wrote them similarly and felt I did a better job on them.

That's clever! You should write one about that. I struggled to tie it all together if I'm being honest, your idea would have helped!

Thank you :)

I plucked the marshmallow from the bag and gave it several firm squeezes, as I felt its springy texture roll between my thumb and fingers. Satisfied with the moment of sensory bliss, I attached it to the end of my poker and extended it over the coals.

The fire was at the perfect temperature. I was always fussy about how the coals were spread before roasting. It could be an arduous process, for sure. But it was essential to making the perfect s’more.

Tens of meticulous rotations later, the marshmallow bore a crunchy gold crust, just how I like it. After slapping it on my chocolate and securing it between two graham crackers, I moved to throw away the empty bag. To my surprise, I discovered a lone marshmallow firmly lodged in the corner.

A deft flick later, it soared landing in the bed of coals, releasing a few sparks.

“For the Gods,” I muttered sarcastically.

“You know,” a soft feminine voice rang out. “I much prefer my offerings, unburnt.”

I yelped in shock as my chair tipped over backward, leaving me sprawled face up in the dirt. Thankfully, I was able to lift my arm and keep my s’more safe and dirt free. A woman strolled into the dying firelight as I scrambled to my feet.

She bore a wry smile, but not unkind eyes as she motioned for me to hand her the poker that lay by my side. An awkward handoff later, she began to agitate the coals sending up a shower of sparks to the heavens.

The woman wore a stunning white dress that clung to her figure; it seemed to illuminate the dreary night. As the fire roared to life, she tucked her long, jet-black hair behind her ears and gave a satisfied nod.

“Ahh, much better.” She gave me a divine smile and extended the poker back to me.

As I grabbed the poker I cleared my throat, “Erm, I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“Ah I forgot!” the woman giggled. “Introductions and all that. Very well then, I am the Goddess Hestia.” She gave a mock bow.

“G-Goddess?” I spluttered as she nodded as if she was encouraging me. “N-nice to meet you.” I finally spit out.

Hestia walked closer to me and extended her pale hands, palm up. Confused, I shifted my eyes between her hand and eyes. Several pointed looks from her later, I realized she wanted my s’more, to which I reluctantly forfeited.

A satisfied smile later, Goddess Hestia sat firmly in my chair and crunched away in bliss.

I wasn’t sure if I should break her happy munching, but curiosity won out in the end.

“Uh, Goddess? Can I ask what you are doing here?”

Hestia plopped the last bite of the s’more in her mouth and closed her eyes as if she was savoring it.

A few licks of her fingers later, “Well, I get first offering of course!”

I was perplexed. “Erm, first offering?”

She nodded and continued, “Yep! Any time one of you mortals performs an offering I get first dibs!” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Perks of being the Goddess of the Hearth and all that.”

She stood up from my chair and dusted off the few specks of graham cracker sprinkled on her dress, several steps later she stood in front of me.

“Oh, and while I’m here. We need to talk.” She accentuated each word with a firm poke in my chest.

I felt the air change as if all the light in the world vanished. The beautiful Goddess transformed in front of me into something out of my worst nightmares. Her dark hair began to float, and her eyes narrowed in what could only be described as malice.

When she spoke again, her voice boomed and I felt the reverberation in my chest. “Stop burning my food!”

Several furious meek nods later from me later, she reverted to the beautiful kind woman and flashed me another divine smile. “Sound good?”

“Y-yes Goddess.” I all but whimpered.

One last smile and she strode away from the firelight, before turning to look over her shoulder quickly like she forgot something.

“Oh! By the way, that s’more was really good, what did you do to it?”

“Oh, um, well you put a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg on it before you squish it together.”

“Nutmeg huh? Hmm,” she hummed and stroked her chin. “I’ll have to try that.”

With that, she vanished into the night. Several furious blinks later, a pop of the logs and a shower of sparks brought me back to my senses. S’moreless.

Gio took one more drag on his cigar as the car lurched to a stop. Looking up into the rearview mirror his eyes connected with Vinny.

Vinny cleared his throat, “Erm… Boss? Are you sure this is such a good idea? I mean she *is* a detective.”

Gio popped open his door and flicked his cigar out. “Ah shaddap Vinny. Just take a spin around the block would ya.”

Gio slammed the door and faced the modest house at the end of the walkway. It was a cute home, standard for the suburbs, but it had a bit of charm to it. Her charm. There was a bright red door and potted plants everywhere. An old tabby darted through the ferns, its tail flicking in joy.

Gio twitched and began to rehearse lines in his head. Again. He was only up-all-night practicing. Letting out a big sigh, he knocked on the red door.

The sound of someone stumbling inside was followed by the fumbling of locks. The door lurched open revealing the source of his angst.

“Er… Hi Jenny” he fumbled.

“GIO! What are you doing here? She all but shouted. She leaned her head out of the frame and quickly looked around before she grabbed his arm and drug him inside.

“Gio why are you here? What would happen to you if the Mob knew you were leaking information!” She groaned and began to drag him toward another room. “Gio, I know we talked about what it means to be an informant. Were you not listening?” she chided.

Despite the irate lecture, Gio couldn’t help the flutters in his stomach. The way she had a firm grip on his hand was making him shake almost as much as when he whacked Old Marco.

Pushing those thoughts out of his head he continued, “Jenny we need to talk…”

“You’re damn right we do Gio! I’m so close to solving this damn thing. I just need you to give me one more hint to tie it together. If I can take down the Infantino Crime Family that would be the biggest bust this century!”

“No, Jenny it’s not that I…” he froze. Jenny had led him into a dark room and flicked on the lights. Gio’s eyes widened in disbelief. The wall was covered in blurry photos. Red string intersected the room connecting the photos in an undecipherable mess. The floor was even worse. Papers were cluttered on the floor, each containing what appeared to be the ramblings of a mad woman.

Gio refocused on Jenny. She was a mess, to say the least. Her normally stunning brown hair lay tangled and greasy, her glasses were smudged, and her white shirt sported a yellowish stain. Gio was pretty sure that was her favorite spicy brown mustard he gave her last Christmas.

Even worse, her eyes darted back as if she was desperately looking for an escape. Gio placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Jenny you're twitching. When’s the last time ya got some sleep?”

She shrugged him off and collected some papers on the floor before pinning them against the others.

Gio sighed and started to clean up some of the mess. Papers, old plates, and clothes were shoved in a pile. On the desk were 7 empty cans of the latest energy drink.

He held one up and shook it, “Jenny don’t tell me ya drank all of these. You know how bad those are for ya.”

Jenny ignored him and began to gesture at the wall, “Look Gio, this is that café. The first clue.”

“Our first date.” He mumbled.

“I wasn’t sure how to tie that one in yet. But if you look over here this one is when you showed me that pier! I know you can’t say why, but I’m pretty sure that’s where the bodies would be right…” she continued rambling.

“…the fireworks” Gio groaned.

“… and over here! When we went to the top of that Ferris wheel! That one was a real stumper, but I figured it wasn’t about the wheel at all!”

Gio’s eyes perked up in hope.

“It’s the carnies! They must be on it. I always thought those clowns seemed extra shifty and come on what type of woman can even grow a beard? She’s in the mob I tell you!” Jenny raised her hands in triumph.

Gio rubbed his eyes in despair, “Or it was the romantic view.”

Jenny continued to ignore Gio as her ramblings increased until Gio clapped his hands together in frustration.

“All right Jenny, what’s it gonna take? Do I need to take you to a jewelry store and just put a ring on it?” he flustered.

Jenny’s eyes perked up.

“Oh, Gio that’s it!” she grabbed a piece of paper and slapped a crude drawing of a ring on it before taping it to the wall. “It all makes sense now; the jewelry store is a front! That’s where they're cleaning all their money!”

Gio’s quiet sobs of despair filled the room as he collapsed on Jenny’s bed.

Jenny hummed, “Wait.”

For a split second, hope poured into Gio’s soul as he lifted his tear-filled eyes from the pillow.

“Gio with this new connection… I don’t believe it Gio! Gio it’s a pentagram!” she sounded amazed as she traced the lines with her hands. “Gio do you think they are working with Satan too? My my…” she stroked her chin. “… this might be above my pay grade after all.”

Soon the room was filled with only frantic scribbles and Gio’s muffled sobs.