PDF Big Bob: A Horror Short Story

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Except for Big Bob. There is nothing like having a friend, a big friend, during the end of days. *Big Bob is a short story. It is not a full-sized novel.*. Goodreads.
Table of contents

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  • 7th Edition Hollywood’s Most Horrible People, Stars, Times, and Scandals. From the stars who slept with Kennedy to Sex Pests & the Casting Couch. (Hollywood Erotica and Scandals Book 1).
  • Big Wheels: A Tale of the Laundry Game (Milkman No. 2).
  • Letting Go?
  • The haunted house.
  • Venus and Adonis.

Sometimes a plot twist comes out of nowhere, without warning or many clues. Did we say that there were only 55 examples in this list? Well, how about THIS twist: here are 15 more! Now that you have an idea of what plot twists look like, you might find it easier to write your own. If you're looking for even more inspiration, you can try out Reedsy's plot generator tool , which will create plot twists out of thin air Are you writing your own plot twists?

How is it going? If you'd like to share your experiences or bounce ideas off of us, just comment below. The end became really confusing - not sure which one is which from the contents at the beginning. This is stupid I wanted plot twist for my book I aint using some sort of plot twist from a movie all my fellow dweeb readers wont like that. Hi this was really good and helpful, I was blown away by how insightful and inexplicably beautiful and shocking the plot twists were!

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Most of the time I had my mouth hanging open in awe as I read. It turns out that you are not a real person but an AI whose purpose is to solicit plot twists from humans that will be used against them in their bid to wipe out the human race. The AIs are super logical and knowledgeable but have no creativity. This article is strictly for those who wish to write fantasy and science fiction.

And he had remembered her.

Night Crawlers by Robert R. McCammon

How about it? He looked at her. He took off the sunglasses and she saw how pale the skin around his eyes was, like holes that were not in shadow but instead in light. His eyes were like chips of broken glass that catch the light in an amiable way.

He smiled. It was as if the idea of going for a ride somewhere, to someplace, was a new idea to him. I know your name and all about you, lots of things," Arnold Friend said. He had not moved yet but stood still leaning back against the side of his jalopy. He spoke in a simple lilting voice, exactly as if he were reciting the words to a song. His smile assured her that everything was fine. In the car Ellie turned up the volume on his radio and did not bother to look around at them. He indicated his friend with a casual jerk of his chin, as if Ellie did not count and she should not bother with him.

You're not from around here. He looked down at his boots, as if he were a little offended. He was pleased. He began to mark time with the music from Ellie's radio, tapping his fists lightly together. Connie looked away from his smile to the car, which was painted so bright it almost hurt her eyes to look at it. It was an expression kids had used the year before but didn't use this year.

She looked at it for a while as if the words meant something to her that she did not yet know. How come? Didn't you see me put my sign in the air when you walked by? They were maybe ten feet apart.

R.L. Stine

After his hand fell back to his side the X was still in the air, almost visible. Connie let the screen door close and stood perfectly still inside it, listening to the music from her radio and the boy's blend together. She stared at Arnold Friend. He stood there so stiffly relaxed, pretending to be relaxed, with one hand idly on the door handle as if he were keeping himself up that way and had no intention of ever moving again. She recognized most things about him, the tight jeans that showed his thighs and buttocks and the greasy leather boots and the tight shirt, and even that slippery friendly smile of his, that sleepy dreamy smile that all the boys used to get across ideas they didn't want to put into words.

She recognized all this and also the singsong way he talked, slightly mocking, kidding, but serious and a little melancholy, and she recognized the way he tapped one fist against the other in homage to the perpetual music behind him.

But all these things did not come together. His smiled faded. She could see then that he wasn't a kid, he was much older—thirty, maybe more. At this knowledge her heart began to pound faster.

Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?

Can'tcha see I'm your own age? He grinned to reassure her and lines appeared at the corners of his mouth. His teeth were big and white. He grinned so broadly his eyes became slits and she saw how thick the lashes were, thick and black as if painted with a black tarlike material.

Then, abruptly, he seemed to become embarrassed and looked over his shoulder at Ellie. He's a nut, a real character. His sunglasses told nothing about what he was thinking. He wore a bright orange shirt unbuttoned halfway to show his chest, which was a pale, bluish chest and not muscular like Arnold Friend's. His shirt collar was turned up all around and the very tips of the collar pointed out past his chin as if they were protecting him. He was pressing the transistor radio up against his ear and sat there in a kind of daze, right in the sun. Kinda strange! He pounded on the car to get Ellie's attention.

Ellie turned for the first time and Connie saw with shock that he wasn't a kid either—he had a fair, hairless face, cheeks reddened slightly as if the veins grew too close to the surface of his skin, the face of a forty-year-old baby. Connie felt a wave of dizziness rise in her at this sight and she stared at him as if waiting for something to change the shock of the moment, make it all right again.

Ellie's lips kept shaping words, mumbling along with the words blasting in his ear. I cut this here to show you the progression from uncertainty and the possibly welcoming behavior of Connie to her feeling like maybe these guys were really creeps, and should go. This could be fun right? She likes being called cute. She laughs at his car, with the weird stuff drawn on it. But something is wrong. And yet, back and forth we go. He does know her name, and in fact, rattles off the names of all of her friends.

This is brilliant. Why not? She notices little things, his eyes, the eyelashes, almost painted on.

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His big white teeth, back to the wolf, right? His friend, Ellie, old as well, a baby-faced forty, maybe a baby-faced killer, yeah? Maybe they'd better go away. This is where it gets interesting. But really, all she needs to do is send them away—do it Connie. But will she? It's Sunday. It was the same voice, Connie thought. And honey, no matter who you were with last night, today you're with Arnold Friend and don't you forget it! Maybe you better step out here," he said, and this last was in a different voice.

It was a little flatter, as if the heat was finally getting to him. I mean—I mean, don't fool around," he said, shaking his head.