You lived your life as a normal child. You weren't the kind to do too many rough and dangerous activities, but you did witness your classmates get a few scrapes and bruises at recess.

Through your awkward teen years, you were quite conservative-- nervous even-- so you never did anything crazy like ghost riding or jumping over the old man's fence (which gave many of your peers skinned knees and broken bones).

Now, as a young adult, you've finally moved out of mama and daddy's house.

Preparing your first meal in your very own apartment, you accidentally slice your finger clean off.

Though expecting blood and pain, you instead feel a minor surge of electricity.

Glancing down, you see sparking wires and metal armatures...

It starts with two best friends.

Let's call them A and B.

A loves puzzles, but found themselves at a loss for where to find new ones.

B stepped up, creating the most wonderful and fanatical games, fit to give A pause.

One day, A received a call. B had created their best game yet!

B was estatic, and couldn't wait to finish the drive there to tell A all about it.

And then- B screamed. The blaring noises threatened to shatter A's eardrums. The line cut off.

B was reported dead a few minutes later.

Cause: Car accident.

A was heartbroken.

But what they didn't realize

was that the game had already begun

and maybe B wasn't as dead as they had thought.

I have been having this idea for a little while now. My idea is to have a story about a female vampire whose life has become bleak after living centuries as a monster that people have feared. She meets an interesting human boy who rarely speaks and has been cast away by society. Both of them are societal outcasts and with that they slowly form a lasting friendship with the vampire learning many lessons about human empathy and friendship and the vampire helping the boy with the issues he has. She eventually will try to abstain from her vampiric nature in a pursuit to get closer to the boy and human kind. At some point the boy will disappear with which the vampire must look to find the boy. She will then be called by a mysterious figure who tells her that he could help find her friend. This begs the question, will she trust him or not.

I hope this sounds like a fun idea for someone to read.

An alternative world where everyone is defined by tangible words that appeared with them at birth (hovering over their heads, tattooed on their bodies, or in another way you can choose). These words, usually adjectives or nouns describing personality and lifestyle, are different depending on a person's spoken language(s) and dialect. Normally, people have no control over what their words say... until a breakthrough in science/magic changes this.

The story begins with an event (human-made plague, explosion, evil ritual, take your pick) causing people's words to disappear, turning them into mindless zombies. Can we rewrite what has already been erased and stop the world from going silent?

A Possible Concept By: DocBoom

It is cold.

It is dark.

I mustn’t be afrade.

I shouldent be.

But I am.

And I’m angry.

My rage is uncontroled.

Pounding on its weakening cage.

A heavy cage.

A cage so heavy it breaks my back every day.

Fear already excaped, and is filling my mind with sounds, and shadows, infecting my body, and makeing me tremble.

The cold seapes into my skin, not that there was enything stopping it in the first place.

The trees are towering over me.

Little do they know that they are just fuleing the beast.

It wants to eskape… to run… to kill… to eat.

I’m hungry.

How many days has it been? How many weeks? Months?

I don’t know.

Skrew it.

The cage is not enougph.

Fear was sopsed to stay.

The cage is not worth it.

Father makes me cage myself because he fears me.

He left me to die.

He is a liar. A cowerd.

The beasts in the cage are not so bad.

They are just bottled up unfairly.

I must set them free.

I just let them wash over me.

The fear, the rage, the regret, spreeding, letting that blasted cage just… fall.

As I am covered with the tangle of emotion, I don’t feel the groth.

But I see as the trees grow smaller.

The beasts aren’t tresspassers as father told me to beleve they were… they are a part of me, and I them.

I can feel as my body warms itself.

I can feel my power sore.

I.. am.. the shadows.

It is time to hunt.