Creative fun in
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by Xayide
Rated: 13+ · Preface · Fanfiction · #1919993
ch 1 and base of the tree. Follow the branches!
A note from me to you:

I am trying something out.

Since I cant do interactive stories bc I am not a member, lets see if this works...lol

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything, but I do borrow. SM made the original and others have created AU (Alternate Universe) branching from her words. Nothing is original anymore, so if something looks similar to your fictional piece, please let me know. I will add credit to you for inspiration and quotes. Wicked? Kewl.

And now that Credit has been given/offered to those who deserve it. On with the show!

Pack love & Wolfy Licks!



He returns after so long.

He parked by the garage, got out, then leaning on The door of his rebuilt ‘69 Dodge Challenger, he looks up to the dilapidated building. Walks up the steps and opens the door to its interior. The place smells musty and the cobwebs prove of its long inhabited state.

The peeling paint and creaking floorboards make it look menacing to the roaming children, who tell stories of it being hunted and dare each other to go inside but cower at the front steps.

Still, this is home.

It has been far too long.

Inside, he stops to glance at his childhood home, taking in the sight as ghostly shapes form old memories of his long forgotten past; then heads tiredly towards his old room.

He knows he must announce his arrival, but he can do that tomorrow. They all know he’s back anyways, he saw them all watching him stunned as he drove by towards his destination.


It will be better that he lets it simmer till then.

He stopped at his doorway glancing down the hall, The other two doors shutting the memories of the once residents from his eyes. Closing his eyes he let out a heavy sight.

Yeah. There will be time for that tomorrow too.

He doesn't want to think of all he’s missed; births, birthdays, graduations, weddings….funerals.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts.

No, not today.

He looked at his bed and for the first time he noticed that though the house smelled old, the house smelled clean and it struck him as strange that when he sat on the bed the sheets were not dusty. He shrugged it off to one of his siblings or one of the ladies in town must have been close to his family and kept up the place.

He’ll have to find out whom and personally thank them, rewards them with monetary retribution for the favor.

He pulled the familiar comforter back and chucked off his shirt, boots and pants then dropped on the lumpy bed and shut his eyes begging for rest thinking of buying a new bed as soon as he was able to.

After three days of straight driving, though, it feels like heaven.


Who walks in to the house first?





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