📚 Short Stories From The Immortal Quill – Issue #3
The Immortal Quill Studio - starring Red, the Lycan Queen with a killer cloak and zero patience. Let the quill fly!
Blood, Cloaks & Interruptions
Told from the Writers' Den of The Immortal Quill
The velvet-draped chamber pulsed with enchantment, the Quill of Immortal Ink hovering once again over its obsidian pedestal like it knew it was the crown jewel of the drama. Scrolls swirled lazily overhead, already half-filled with sass and scandal. Somewhere in the rafters, enchanted candles flickered nervously.
The co-hosts of The Immortal Quill were - shocker -arguing. Again.
“I’m next,” Snow declared, her bone-white curls gleaming like freshly-fallen frost. “I have fans, and they want to know about me. Not some backwoods cloak model with an anger issue.”
“Excuse me?” Red raised one brow and set down her obsidian teacup with the kind of controlled calm that screamed I will eat you. “Say that again, Snowflake. I dare you.”
Cinderella, leaning back in a cursed velvet chair, glanced between them with the kind of serenity only the chronically unbothered possessed. “Snow, you did die in your original story. Red just went feral in hers. Big difference.”
Snow scowled. “I was poisoned, not dead-dead. That’s called drama.”
“And mine was called containment,” Red growled, pushing back her hood to reveal a mane of deep crimson curls, wild and regal.
Meanwhile, Rapunzel was already doodling “Vote Rapunzel 4 Quill Queen” in sparkling ink across the margins of someone else’s scroll, and Goldi was mid-snack with a bowl of enchanted popcorn that never emptied.
But before anyone could decide who was next, before even the Quill could twitch a decision—
Red. Just. Started. Talking.
Didn’t wait. Didn’t flinch. Just launched into it like the queen she damn well was.
“Fine. Sit down, shut up, and listen.”
“I’m Red. Yes, that Red. Red Riding Hood if you’re still clinging to fairy tale propaganda from five centuries ago. But let me give you the real tea.”
She leaned forward, eyes glowing faintly gold in the candlelight. Somewhere in the background, thunder cracked for dramatic effect. Or maybe that was Tink exploding something. Again.
“I was born Lycan. Always have been. That whole story about the poor little girl in the hood, skipping through the woods with a basket of muffins? A cover story. Something the old guard cooked up when I started shifting too young to hide it.”
Goldi let out a slow gasp. “Ooooohhhhh nooo she didn't.”
Red shot her a smirk. “Oh, yes I did. I couldn’t control it then. Every full moon? Boom. Claws, fur, the whole blood-and-biscuits routine. That ‘Big Bad Wolf’ you all heard about? That was me, baby. Just… untrained. Unleashed. Unapologetic.”
Snow looked positively scandalized. “You’re saying they wrote your actual identity into a horror story to protect you from being found out?”
Red nodded. “To protect themselves. Can’t have an immortal Lycan child rampaging through enchanted hamlets. Spoils the aesthetic.”
Tink dropped from the ceiling with an indignant flutter of wings, heels clicking against the floor as she stomped over, glitter raining off her like fury in powder form.
“Oh, please, you shapeshift, what, twice a month and suddenly you’re the main character? Nobody’s here for a furry flex, darling. They want a fae queen. They want glamour, illusion, sparkles with consequences!”
Red stood slowly, her voice velvet-wrapped steel. “Say one more thing, Tinkerbitch. Say one more glowing, wing-flapping thing.”
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Even the floating scrolls edged away.
Snow, as usual, attempted diplomacy through sarcasm. “Oh dear. Red’s in a mood. Should we all leave and let her and her husband redecorate this entire tower in claw marks?”
Goldi snorted. “Y’all better stop. She lives in a freaking castle in the Enchanted Forest with her daywalker hottie. He literally brews stormclouds when she’s mad. I vote we don’t poke the werewolf.”
Tink threw her hands up, sending a burst of irritated magic into the ceiling. “UGH. Whatever! I’m so over the Lycan drama. Call me when you want a real scandal.”
Red, unbothered, flicked her crimson cloak over one shoulder like a mic drop. “I am the scandal.”
She walked past the glowing Quill, which etched her words onto a scroll already pulsing with moonlight, bloodstains, and a faint growl. She paused at the door.
“Oh - and my husband says hi. He’ll be reading the comments.”
Tink muttered something in Fae that likely translated to “unfiltered mutt energy,” and vanished in a poof of glam-dust and spite.
The others sat in stunned silence.
Until Goldi whispered, “Okay but like… what do we call her story? Because that was kind of amazing.”
World of 4EverMore | Bloodthorn Publishing | Short Stories
🩸✨ A Bloodthorn Publishing™ Original
From the twistedly magical minds of the Immortal Quill™ Storytellers, welcome to the World of 4EverMore™ - where fractured fairytales wear combat boots, myths misbehave, tea spills itself, and chaos is couture. ☕️
Featuring your immortally iconic favorites:
• Goldilocks (paranoid and perfect)
• CindaSpy™ (that’s Cinderella with a security clearance)
• Red (badass in boots)
• Snow (soft goth apple queen)
• Dorothy (click it and rip it)
• Beauty (rose-stem sharp)
• Wendy (shadow-slick rebel)
• Alice – Queen of Ink & Lore™ herself
• Loki (divine trickster snack, taken 😘)
• Ivy (Rumple’s sister, lethal in Louboutins)
• and Rumplestiltskin (unhinged, unmatched, unstoppable)
✨ Guest appearances may include sentient teacups, tragic ballgowns, questionable prophecy scrolls, and one flirty, possibly dangerous Elven stranger...
🪄 Storytime just got a whole lot more immortal.
Bloodthorn Publishing™ • The Immortal Quill™ • World of 4EverMore™ Universe 💋🔥
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