#short chapters

[nekokeiko]

I’m always amazed at writers who create fics with massive word counts.

1000 words and I’m already losing it. 🥹 Not including re-reading and editing. 😳

[skullszeyes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

5 short chapters, snippets from 5 drafts...

[chillingchronicles]

The Bridge Of Sorrows

Chapter 8 Sorrows

The fog thickened as we trudged through the brush, the twins following me, their footsteps uncertain.

“What the hell is this place, Vanessa? This is weird,” Susanne said, her voice uneasy.

“This is beyond sketchy,” Sara added, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting something to emerge from the mist.

“I know it feels strange,” I said, a tight smile on my lips. “But you’ll be amazed by what you’re about to see.”

We stepped onto the bridge, and the air seemed to grow colder.

“Where the hell are we?” Sara asked, looking around in confusion.

“What if I told you that this bridge could answer any question you had? That it knows everything?” I paused, letting the silence sink in. “Sara, wouldn’t you like to know if you’re going to make it to the WNBA?”

Her eyes lit up with sudden excitement. “Hell yeah! But what’s the catch?”

I glanced at both of them, my heart racing. “You have to offer something meaningful—something personal.”

“Like my pompoms?” Susanne asked, her brow furrowing.

“Exactly,” I replied, my voice calm, though inside I was trembling.

Sara laughed. “This is ridiculous! You can’t be serious.”

They both started laughing, but I couldn’t join them. The bridge’s power, the deity’s presence, weighed heavily on me. Should I tell them what I’ve already given up? Dorris… baby John? The price is always high, but I had no choice. I needed answers.

“I’ll do it,” Sara said, stepping toward the edge of the bridge, her basketball in hand.

“Wait!” Susanne lunged at her, slapping her hard across the face. Blood spurted from Sara’s nose, staining the basketball in her hands.

“Are you insane? You love that basketball! You scored 46 points with it, and now you want to give it up for a stupid answer? What if Vanessa’s just messing with us?”

Sara wiped the blood from her nose, glaring at her sister. “I need to know. You don’t understand. I’ve worked too hard to fail now.”

Their argument seemed distant, like echoes from a past life. Something darker was twisting inside me, warping my thoughts. This had to happen. I needed to know why the deity had chosen this form—why it had taken the shape of this cursed bridge.

Sara turned toward the ledge, gripping her bloodied basketball. “Will I make it to the WNBA?” she asked, her voice filled with desperation.

The air thickened, and from beneath the bridge, a red glow began to pulse, growing brighter. The voice from the depths of the bridge was deep, guttural.

“You will succeed… but not without pain. Your ambition will cost you friendships, and not all those who stand with you are loyal.”

Sara’s face paled, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Holy shit, Vanessa was right…”

Susanne stood frozen, staring at the bridge in horror. “What the hell is this?” she whispered, backing away. “What did you do, Vanessa?”

I stepped closer to them, my mind racing. This was the moment. I had to act.

I couldn’t risk them leaving, not before I had my answer.

“You’ve always been the smart one, Susanne,” I said softly. “But there’s something you don’t know.”

Both twins turned to me, their eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What?” Sara asked.

I stepped between them, my voice barely a whisper. “I still haven’t asked the bridge my question.”

They glanced at each other, confusion etched on their faces.

“What do you need to know?” Susanne asked.

I looked past them, into the pulsing red light, and spoke aloud, “Deity, why did you take the form of this bridge?”

Before they could react, I shoved both twins forward with all my strength. They screamed as they tumbled over the ledge, disappearing into the crimson glow.

For a brief, breathless moment, there was only silence. Then, the voice of the deity rumbled up from the depths.

“I took this form to blend into the mortal world. My sisters sought to destroy me, but I survived by hiding. I needed blood to regain my strength. Thanks to you, Vanessa, I now have enough to take my true form. And I will have my vengeance.”

My body trembled as the realization hit me. I had fed it—Dorris, baby John, now the twins. I was its pawn all along, and now, I’d given it what it wanted.

I collapsed to my knees, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. “What have I done?” The words barely escaped my lips, the weight of my guilt pressing down like a suffocating fog. The crimson glow beneath the bridge began to fade, but its haunting presence remained, forever imprinted in my mind. The deity’s laughter still echoed, a cruel reminder of the irreversible choices I had made.

I stood, every step heavy with the burden of my actions. I approached the bridge’s ledge, peering down into the dark void that had swallowed Susanne and Sara. Their laughter, their faces—everything about them—was now just a fading memory, consumed by the abyss.

I climbed onto the ledge, the wind tugging at my hair, but it didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like the end of everything. I thought of Dorris. I thought of baby John. I thought of the twins. All the people I had sacrificed, gone because of my greed, my desperation, my inability to resist the whispers that had twisted my mind.

The sky above was vast and empty, but even in its expanse, I felt no release, no solace.

“I can never follow them,” I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of sorrow. “Wherever they’ve gone… I can never be with them.”

I had crossed a line—too far, too deep into the darkness. I had betrayed everything good, and now I stood alone, forever severed from the world I once knew. This was my punishment, my exile from everything I had loved and lost.

With one final breath, I closed my eyes, letting go. But as I fell backward into the abyss, it wasn’t the deity’s laughter that followed me.

It was the silence.

[chillingchronicles]

The Bridge Of Sorrows

I need to think of another victim. I dashed off the bridge to return to the car, realizing I had left the stroller behind. It doesn’t matter now—it won’t be needed anymore. I got into the car and drove fiercely to the Johnsons’ house. I parked in front and rushed toward the door, my heart racing as I gasped for breath. Pressing my hand on the front door, I extracted my key and placed it into the lock. It seemed like an eternity to open, but finally, I heard the clinking noise of the deadbolt releasing. When I stepped inside, I collapsed flat onto the floor.

Through the kitchen window, I saw the sun setting, trailing burnt orange and scarlet across the sky. These were the days I used to sit on the neighborhood playground bench, watching the sunset, its colors stretching across the horizon. Part of me wishes I could go back, but I’m growing numb to the harm I’ve caused. Something is taking over my mind, and I can feel it.

“Hey, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

I heard footsteps approaching from behind me. I tried to stand, but I didn’t have the energy. The voice was kind, with a high-pitched, lyrical tone that told me it was a woman. Her hands gently helped me sit up, but I couldn’t bring myself to look up at her.

“Vanessa, is that you?”

My pupils dilated as I slowly lifted my head. It was Susanne, one of the twins from the neighborhood.

“What are you doing here, Susanne?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Is this the Johnsons’ house? They must’ve remodeled. Wait... are you still watching their house on weekends like in high school?”

“I am. But...”

“Anyway,” Susanne continued, “I was running around the neighborhood and saw what looked like a lifeless body inside the house, so I came to check.”

“You always liked staying in shape with your runs.”

“Well, not everyone has good genes like you, Vanessa.”

“Can you help me up?”

Before Susanne could respond, another voice interrupted.

“Hey, Susanne! You started without me, you bitch!”

“Who’s that?” I asked, startled.

“That’s my sister, Sara.”

I looked up. “Wow, she’s grown!”

“She’s a basketball player at Washington State University now.”

Susanne helped me up. Looking at both of them, I realized they hadn’t changed much since high school. Susanne still had her slim, athletic cheerleader’s build and straight brunette hair, and Sara, though taller and more muscular, had the same brunette hair with a beauty mark on her temple.

As Susanne helped me walk toward her car, Sara grabbed her basketball.

“Why are you bringing your basketball?” Susanne asked, rolling her eyes.

“I want to,” Sara replied stubbornly.

“Hey, Susanne, why don’t you bring your pompoms?” I suggested.

“Why?”

“Remember how you used to cheer for Sara when she practiced outside?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Susanne said, smiling.

As we got into the car, I saw Susanne’s high school cheerleader pompoms in the backseat, next to Sara’s basketball from her championship win.

My mind was spinning. My plan was falling into place, and I knew exactly how to use these two to my advantage to get the answers I needed from the bridge.

[chillingchronicles]

Chapter 6 No Remorse

Something was compelling me to return to Lilith Blvd. I felt a deep curiosity about the bridge—its origins, its powers, and the ominous warning that I would regret crossing it. There had to be more to this bridge than met the eye.

Arriving at Lilith Blvd, I got out of the car, took John out of his car seat, and placed him in his stroller. As I approached the bridge with him, I remembered Dorris’s account of discovering it. The wind picked up, the clouds thickened, and the scent of rain was heavy in the air. A chill ran through me as the wind whipped my hair. A profound sense of dread washed over me, and I gripped John’s stroller tightly, sensing an unseen force tugging at it, as if trying to pull him away from me.

I quickly lifted John out of the stroller. He was unnervingly calm, not a single cry escaped his lips. I held him close, studying his solemn face. He wasn’t smiling, and something about him felt disturbingly off. I carried him toward the spot where Dorris had fallen from the bridge. I wanted answers about this bridge and its true nature.

Holding John high, he looked at me with an expression of sadness, as if he knew something terrible was about to happen. I held him over the edge of the bridge, our eyes locked, and tears streamed down his face. He kicked his legs frantically, and my heart ached. “John, I’m so sorry. I love you with all my heart,” I whispered, struggling with the impulse to let him go.

Suddenly, my arms were pulled back, forcefully preventing me from dropping him. It felt as if Dorris was intervening, stopping me from harming John. I was horrified by the thought. This wasn’t like me at all—I felt controlled by some external force. I would never intentionally hurt John.

I slowly walked toward the end of the bridge, a cold gust of wind brushing past my ears. A soothing, melodic voice echoed, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, give me an offering.”

I looked down at John in my arms, kissed his forehead, and saw him smile. The tears had stopped. With a heavy heart, I threw him over the ledge. The bridge erupted in a wicked laugh that sent shivers down my spine and raised goosebumps on my skin.

“What would you like to know?” the voice inquired.

“Well, what are you? And where did you come from?”

“I am a deity, the death goddess and a warrior. I sought to rise through the ranks to compete with the other top warrior goddesses, but a battlefield injury halted my progress. That’s more than you need to know for now.”

“Others? Are there more like you?”

“That’s all I have for now. If you wish to know more, you know where to find me.”

I now feel a consuming urge to find my next victim. Greed has taken over my body, and I no longer recognize myself. I feel no remorse for what I did to baby John.

[chillingchronicles]

Chapter 5 A Woman's Scorn

It was 10:00 a.m. I had to hurry to Mr. Johnson’s house to babysit. My heart warmed at the thought of seeing baby John and his sweet, ocean-blue eyes. With my key to the Johnsons' back door, I let myself in, eager to see John’s big smile. As I inserted the key, the door swung open unexpectedly. Mr. Johnson stood there, his face flushed and eyes darting.

“Hey, Vanessa, I’m in a rush. I left extra cash on the counter. I’ll be gone for the weekend. Can you stay?” he asked urgently.

“I don’t mind. I could stay with baby John,” I assured him.

Relief washed over his face. “Wonderful. John adores you. If anything happens, call me or Sophia.” Without looking back, he called, “Bye, John. I adore you, son.”

Mr. Johnson dashed out. I picked up John and walked to the window. I watched as he hurriedly stuffed a bag into a red car. The way he moved, trying to avoid something, was frantic. When the car backed out, I strained to see who was driving. My heart stopped—it was Mrs. Delagarza. What the hell?

John jumped in my arms. “Oops, sorry, John,” I murmured.

Five minutes later, Sophia pulled up, her car screeching to a halt. She stormed through the door, her face a mask of fury and her eyes red and puffy from crying. I had never seen her like this before—usually so composed, now unraveling before me.

“Vanessa,” she panted, “where is he?”

“Mr. Johnson?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Yes, of course!” she snapped, her voice sharp and barely contained.

“He said he was going on a weekend trip,” I replied softly, the tension in the room palpable.

Sophia’s eyes darted around the room, her hands trembling. “His phone’s going to voicemail,” she said, her voice breaking. “Did you see what kind of car he left in?”

“A red one,” I managed to say.

Sophia’s face twisted into a bitter smile. “I just know he’s cheating on me,” she hissed. “A woman knows. The signs are always there—the late nights, the secretive calls. It starts with fewer conversations, then he becomes distant, like you’re a stranger in your own home.”

Her voice cracked, and for a moment, she seemed on the verge of collapse under the weight of her emotions. Her breath came in shuddering gasps, her face etched with pain. I could see the storm inside her—hurt, anger, betrayal, all fighting for dominance. Her eyes brimmed with tears, her jaw clenched tight.

“Vanessa, I’m going out,” she said, her voice trembling but firm. “I need to clear my head. Can you stay with John?”

“Yes, of course. When will you be back?” I asked, trying to offer some semblance of calm.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was distant, as if she was already somewhere else. She turned and walked out, her shoulders stiff and her movements sharp, like each step was a struggle. I could feel her rage lingering in the room, heavy and suffocating.

I looked at John, who was laughing and reaching into the air. His eyes sparkled with innocence. Was it Dorris playing with him? She always enjoyed making him laugh. But then John started to cry. I grabbed the keys, put him in the stroller, and headed to the car. It might be best to get out of the house.

As I opened the car door, a wave of nostalgia hit me. I remembered Dorris, Susane, and Sara—the mischievous twins. We had so many wild times, from partying without permission to running from cops. I should visit Susane and Sara after the weekend. I could tell them about the bridge. But first, I need to find my next offering.

[chillingchronicles]

The Bridge Of Sorrows

Chapter 4 Dearly Departed

I woke up around 8:00 a.m., the empty walls of my room staring back at me. The dread of what I had to do settled in—I’d have to tell Dorris’s mom what happened. Flashes of Dorris’s face as she fell over the bridge haunted me as I got ready, my guilt growing heavier with every step.

On the kitchen counter, I found a note:

“Vanessa, you left your car on and your keys in the ignition, so the battery died. I had a mechanic come pick it up. You can borrow my car. I got a ride from Sarah next door. Have a good day at work. I’ll call you when I get a chance.”

The drive to Mrs. Delagarza’s house was filled with childhood memories of Dorris and me, but they only tightened the knot in my chest. As I pulled into the driveway, my hands trembled slightly. I knocked on the door, bracing myself.

“Hey, Vanessa, how are you?” Mrs. Delagarza greeted me warmly.

“I... I need to tell you something,” I stammered. “Something bad happened yesterday.”

“Okay…” she said, concern knitting her brow.

“Dorris and I went to a bridge... to find out if Mr. Johnson was having an affair. This guy told us we could get answers if we offered something meaningful. Dorris tried to take off my shoe, but she... she fell over the edge. Mrs. Delagarza, I’m so sorry. Dorris is dead.”

There was a long pause before she responded, her voice calm, almost too calm. “Vanessa, who is Dorris? I don’t have a daughter named Dorris.”

“What? No, Mrs. Delagarza, you do. Dorris! You have pictures of her everywhere in the living room!”

She looked at me with concern. “Vanessa, there are no pictures of Dorris. Are you feeling okay?”

“Can I get a glass of water, please?”

“Sure, come on in.”

I walked into the house, heart pounding, and looked around. The walls were bare—no trace of Dorris anywhere. My stomach dropped.

“Vanessa, as you can see, there aren’t any photos of this Dorris person you speak of.”

“I see that now…”

“Well, I’m heading out for the weekend with a friend. Take care, okay?”

“Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Delagarza. I’ll be on my way now.”

“Drive safe, Vanessa.”

[crossrole-undertaleau]

Artfall chapter 2 PT 1: Helping hand

As the creations started their own lives, Kayla headed out in search of Gaster. How far down he had fallen, she did not know.

"Gaster? Hellooooo? You around here...?" She called out into a seemingly empty space.

Nothing but the echo of her voice is heard.

She searches for days, weeks, and so so very long.

Nothing.

Her first lost creation.

Sadly, she had to return back to where her other creations were, and she was horrified.

Beings, who had lost all colorful spirit, were attacking, most of which were her human creations. It seems like an infectious virus of hatred and darkness.

"The puny guardian can never stop the shadow beings!" One called out as it attempted to kill a nearby monster.

As of now, Kayla believed them. She didn't want to fight.