u/DachshundLover197

This ie my collection, there is quite a few there! All of them except the new series which I am saving up to buy. Don't mind the brave lands books also sitting there, I do have more warrior books, but am too lazy to find them, lol.

And he eats the whole thing, and still has room for pie... Is he a human, or a vacuum???😂😂😂

Who wants to name my sweet pupper? I will let you guys know the name I picked! They can be boy or girl names, I think it's a boy but it could be a girl too!

I drew this jack Russell for fun, what do you guys think? What should I name him?

​

I was bored, and I wanted to draw, so feel free to share your plushies and I will try my best to hand draw them, especially if you guys have any pups!!! please don't be upset if I don't have time to do yours, I will try my best to get as many as I can!!! Here is my plush Ranger and his drawing as reference.

Zion and Paisley: ages 12 and 10: It was a dreary afternoon, humid and sticky. As our family walked through the light rain, I pulled up my hood, trying to shield myself from the damp misery. My ten-year-old sister, Paisley, didn't mind it though. She was twirling through the satiny drops as though it wasn't raining at all, completely lost in her own little world.

When we finally reached the place where we would wait for the train—who knows what they actually call it; a train stop? a platform?—we sat down on a bench. The ground around our feet was littered with gross, dead mayflies. Why, oh why, couldn't they choose a better place to die? If you only live for a single day, you should spend it at an arcade or an amusement park, not a depressing train stop.

My father sat down heavily on the bench, his shoulders slumped. Our King Charles Spaniel, Chipper, was batting at the remaining mayflies, swatting them around with his stubby little paws. Paisley knelt down right into the damp grime, picked one up, and dangled the lifeless bug right above his wet little nose.

My dad's head snapped up instantly. "Paisley! Put that down!"

The sharp urgency in his voice made even me shudder. Paisley dropped the dead mayfly, scooped Chipper up into her arms, and sat back down on the bench, her chain bracelets clinking loudly from the sudden motion.

I poked her shoulder and muttered, "Why the freakin' heck would you pick up a dead bug?"

She glared at me, pulling her arm away from Chipper’s little white teeth as he tried to lick her fingers. "I was playing with Chipper."

I rolled my eyes. "I still think Chipper is a dumb name for a dog..."

She ignored me, aggressively nuzzling her face into his silky ears to shut me out.

A moment later, the train pulled up, screeching against the rails and splashing a puddle of thick mud right into my face. Grimacing, I wiped the sludge off my cheek, murmuring curses under my breath as we climbed up the metal steps.

"Great..." I muttered, keeping my voice low so my dad wouldn't hear me. "I have to sleep on a train. With... random people snoring."

Paisley bumped her shoulder against my side. "Shut up, Zion! It’s. A. TRAIN! It’s not, like, a cave with a bear!"

I walked away from her, marching down the narrow corridor and slamming open the cabin door that bore our family name. "Whatevs. I'd rather be eaten by a bear anyway."

Paisley followed me right in, lifting the spaniel up and holding him directly to my face. "Chipper would be glad to eat you. You're no fun; you just grouch around like the world owes you money."

I let out a heavy sigh. "Because it DOES!"

She stuck her tongue out at me. "If you didn't want to be here, why did you sneak into a casino in the first place?"

I whipped around, my face hot. "Shut up, little creep! It’s none of your business!"

She winced, feeling the sting of my words. I didn't care; I was too occupied processing my own spiraling emotions. Why, oh why, did I think it was a good idea to try and gamble? I was too young—six years too young to even step foot on that floor. But I had needed cash fast, and my father wouldn't loan me a single dime. And now, because I got caught, we were on a train to court. COURT. I was twelve, for crying out loud! Let it freakin' go! To make matters worse, my father wouldn't even look at me, let alone speak to me.

That night, the rhythm of the tracks didn't soothe me. I couldn't fall asleep, my mind busy pondering what the judge would say to me. Suddenly, the cabin door creaked. A slim shape squeezed through the narrow crack. I jerked upright, fully expecting my father to pop in and lecture me about responsibility.

Instead, I caught a flash of red hair in the dim light. Paisley. And... I sighed. Chipper. Just set the dog down, girl!

"What do you want???" I snapped, bracing myself for more annoying little-sister crap.

Instead of snapping back, she brushed her long bangs out of her face. Her green eyes practically glowed in the moonlight filtering through the window. "It's too dark to sleep," she whispered.

I knew she was lying. Whenever Paisley lies, her foot starts tapping a rhythm on the floor and she frantically fiddles with her red hair.

"What is it ACTUALLY?" I demanded, awaiting an answer that felt like an eternity to come.

Finally, she stopped fidgeting. "It felt wrong. The air, the sky, the smoke billowing from the engine..."

I sat up completely, throwing the ratty brown blankets off my legs and swinging my feet onto the cold floor. "SMOKE? That's bad, that's bad..." I started pacing back and forth in the tiny cabin, my brain freezing up, unable to recall what we were supposed to do in an emergency.

Paisley stood up straighter, a flush of red creeping up her cheeks. "That's why I told you! If you can sneak into a casino, you can figure out how to put out a fire!"

I glared at her. "WHY? Those two things are COMPLETELY unrelated! And just stop bringing that up!"

We rushed out of the cabin into the dark hallway, Chipper trotting right behind us, his long, silky ears flowing like capes. Suddenly, he threw his head back. "Awoo! Awoo!"

Paisley looked back quickly, holding a single finger to her lips. The dog cut his howl short, dropping into absolute silence.

At least, it was silent until we reached the heavy door of the engine room. I pushed it open and gasped. "It's... empty," I wheezed, already out of breath and coughing violently from the thick, dark cloud pouring out of the control panel.

Paisley whispered, her voice trembling with a terrifying certainty, "No, no, no! It’s going to crash... and this train will blow up in flames in less than ten seconds after it hits..."

I stared at her for a moment, ignoring my burning lungs, looking at my little sister in pure, unadulterated awe. How did she know that?

She glared back at me through the haze. "What are you DOING? Put out the fire!"

I lunged forward, reaching my hands out for the red fire extinguisher mounted on the wall, but my breath fell completely short. A heavy, sweet weight filled my chest. I collapsed to the metal floor, clawing frantically at my throat as air utterly failed to go into my lungs.

Paisley’s face turned bright red as she gasped beside me. "Toxic... gas..." she spluttered, spinning around and reaching for the door handle we had just come through.

It was locked. The automatic security system had engaged.

I wish I could say I helped. I wish I could say I acted like the older brother, but I was flat on the floor, completely helpless, watching the ceiling spin.

Paisley didn't panic. She yanked a sturdy bobby pin right out of her red hair and jiggled it into the keyhole with furious speed. Click. The heavy door swung open. Fresh air rushed in, but I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do anything but watch the dark edges of my vision close in.

With the last of her strength, Paisley threw Chipper out into the safe corridor. Then, she turned back, grabbed my wrist with both hands, and began coughing violently as she dragged my heavy, twelve-year-old body across the threshold. But that didn’t stop her from muttering, “why am i doing all the work? You’re older, and YOU are the reason we’re on an exploding train!”

I don't remember anything else after crossing that line. I only know that somehow, we made it off the train just before the engine exploded into a massive fireball.

What exactly happened to the controls? I couldn't say. I only knew that my little sister, and that little dog I thought had a dumb name—who had been trying to warn us the entire time—were the only reason I was still around to face the mudic.

Golden retriever plushies stacked together! (There's quite a few still hiding somewhere!😅)

Eloise and Ashton: ages 16 and 12: The sun was shining, lighting up the car as I drove my new car up the old dirt path. My younger brother was clutching his seat, like he was about to fly out. He glared at me as I hit a bump in the road.

"Elly! Why did I ever agree to this?!!!"

I rolled my eyes, but winced myself as I hit another rock. "ELLY! PLEASE stop hitting literally everything!"

"I'd like to see YOU try to drive a car… especially up a mountain" I muttered, steering it up the trail.

"Na, I’d rather not!" I scoffed.

"This is not a mountain. This is just a plateau." He said.

"I... don't know what that is." He put his hands up, satisfied from winning the argument. I reached the highest spot I was planning to go, and he swung open the door.

"Eloise! Are you planning to come breathe the mountain air?"

Sighing, I opened the door, forcing myself to follow his long strides the rest of the way up. Ashton touched the top of the... plateau or whatever, and pulled his blue backpack off his shoulder, where it was slung. I squinted. "So... what are we doing here?"

He ignored me, taking a small plastic bag with a piece of red meat out of the bag. "I saw some silver fox kits up here yesterday. Why not try to get a closer look?" He shrugged, dumping it out on a patch of land next to a couple of bushes on the side.

"I don't know, something called rabies?" I muttered, annoyed I wasted my time so Ashton could socialize with foxes. He tucked the now-empty bag back into his backpack, and plopped down on the opposite side of the bushes. I looked at my blue car. "Ash, you better pay me back for the gas I wasted."

He shrugged for the 100th time. "Sure... Fine... Whatever. I just want to see the magic happen."

This is why he's so annoying. He doesn't care what anyone says. Then, a small silver muzzle poked out of the green bush, followed by a sleek body, and a bushy tail. Ashton's eyes glowed. "A silver fox... super rare. It's silver, 'cause the melanin in its fur is greater than that of a regular Vulpes vulpes."

"Excuse me, WHAT? It'd be nice if you spoke English."

He ignored me AGAIN, and stared intently at the small fox pup in front of him. I have to admit it was cute, but what is melanin? AND why can't he call a fox, a fox. WHY Vulpes vulpes? After the baby fox retreated into the bushes, he stood up, brushed off his khaki shorts. "We can go now, if you like."

I rolled my eyes, muttering, "Finally. You're 12, why can't you go up here alone? You'd rather hike up anyways."

He padded down the path, his green sneakers brushing up dust. " 'Cause mom prefers her kids not to die..."

"No one is going to die."

We got back in the car, and I drove back down the dust path. Maybe halfway through, I saw a couple of people waving their arms. As we got closer, I realized it was a girl and a boy, maybe around 13 and 9. They both had black eyes. Not normal black, a bit too pungent. Maybe it had something to do with melanin or whatever. I stopped the car, and rolled down the window. Ashton shook his head violently.

"This is a bad idea..."

"Just because you don't care about humans, doesn't mean I don't. And it's my car; what I say goes."

The older of the two, the girl spoke. "Hi, I'm Audrey. We were riding our bikes down here, and they broke. We need a ride back down, please?"

The boy nodded. "I'm Gavin. And we really need one. Our mom will kill us if we're not home soon."

I opened the back car door, and let them in. We then drove farther down the path. They were pretty chatty, asking random questions. Then, Gavin asked, "What're your names?"

I responded quickly, not taking my eyes off the road. "Eloise Hitman."

His eyes lit up. "And you?" he asked, pointing at Ashton.

Ashton muttered without looking up, "I don't give my name to strangers."

I poked him, and he rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm Oliver Peterson." Fine. He can say what he likes.

Audrey sat back in the seat. "Are you siblings?"

Ashton responded before I could. "No, I'm her brother's friend. She's driving me to their house."

The pair of siblings seemed content. I did notice Gavin writing something in a little notebook though. Maybe a mile later, after we were back on the road, Audrey spotted a dirt path. She leaned forward, her charming voice gone. She snarled, "Turn onto the dirt path. Now."

I didn't respond, and kept driving, my throat clenching. She put her hand right next to my neck. "NOW."

I screeched the car onto the path, and the two siblings howled with uncanny laughter. Ashton was shaking his head, his messy sandy blonde hair flying all over. I kept driving down the dirt path, too scared to stop. Then, we reached a clearing. The boy slammed the door open, and jumped out. His notebook was hanging limply from his hand. The page clearly read:

Layla Hunter

Carson Rheener

Max Olivers

Lucy Belle

Eloise Hitman

Oliver Peterson

Audrey slammed open the front door, and pulled my hands behind my back. Her grip was strong. Gavin did the same with Ashton. I struggled wildly, screaming at them to let us go. Ashton grew still, his eyes glinting with a dull light I knew too well—he was calculating, checking his surroundings, completely frozen.

A giant, shady man emerged from the trees with identical pitch-black eyes, with no whites, and ashy black skin. He boomed, "Who do we have here?"

Gavin's voice was eerily confident. "Oliver Peterson, and Eloise Hitman."

The booming voice started again. "Excellent. Collection begins tomorrow. Don't try to escape, we know where to find you."

Audrey and Gavin pulled us both back into the car, shoved us into the front seats, and used the GPS to our house that I'd had preset before any of this happened. They disappeared into the shadows of the trail as I frantically hit the gas, speeding all the way back to the safety of our neighborhood.

That night, the house felt entirely cold. I couldn't sleep, staring at the ceiling as the word echoed in my mind. Collection. What did that even mean?

As I passed by Ashton's room to get a glass of water, the door was cracked just an inch. I heard him pacing around, his green sneakers long gone, replaced by the soft padding of his socks on the floor. He said one thing only that night, his voice dropping to a low, trembling whisper.

"Sorry to whoever Oliver Peterson is. You really saved my skin."

Piper and Kieran: ages 9 and 10: My heart beat with anticipation as I waited for the last spelling word. It was the final spelling bee, the one the best junior speller from each state in the US competed in. I was representing all of Maine. There were only two of us left, me and an 11-year-old girl from Illinois named Wistaria. As I glanced at the sea of faces in New York, my older brother Kieran winked, and whistled before my mother turned around and told him to sit down.

The judge took a breath. "The championship word is... pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Wistaria, can you spell that?"

The girl winced, brushed her black hair from her face and said into the microphone, "I think I better be on my way." The crowd laughed, and Kieran stood up again, yelling, "Off with you!" I bit my lip, trying not to laugh as the crowd collectively turned to stare while my mom forced him back down into his seat again.

Then, the judge turned to me. "Piper? Can you spell the word?"

I stepped up to the microphone, my hands shaking slightly. "Um... pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis... p-n-e-u-m-o-n-o-u-l-t-r-a-m-i-c-r-o-s-c-o-p-i-c-s-i-l-i-c-o-v-o-l-c-a-n-o-c-o-n-i-o-s-i-s."

The judge stared at me in disbelief. "Correct???" She handed me a large, heavy trophy with a picture of a golden queen bee sitting right on the top.

Later that night, I was laying on the crisp white sheets of our hotel bed, halfway asleep, the golden trophy still clutched tightly in my hand. Our parents were in the next-door room, probably already fast asleep. Kieran was standing right next to the bed, but I didn't see him because my eyes were glued shut.

Suddenly, he knelt down, put his fingers in his mouth, and whistled right next to my ear.

TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I woke straight up, my heart racing, thinking the fire alarm was going off or something. He was just standing there with the biggest, most mischievous smile on his face. "Boo," he whispered.

I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes. "It's a bit too late to be quiet..."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever! We've got the hotel to ourselves, what should we do? Raid the kitchen? Spy on mom and dad while they're sleeping? Set off the fire alarm?"

I stood up now, completely awake. "Are you crazy? It's the middle of the night!"

He stared at me as though I was the crazy one. "That's... literally the point."

I sighed, knowing there was no convincing him to go back to sleep. "I guess we could just walk through the hallways..."

He opened the heavy hotel door carefully, barely remembering to grab the key card so we could get back in. We just walked through the quiet, carpeted halls for a while, and after we'd circled the entire floor without seeing anyone, we headed back to the room.

As we unlocked the door, I noticed a piece of paper drifting slowly to the floor. It looked slightly sticky, but there was handwriting scrawled across it. Kieran picked it up and squinted at it under the dim hallway light. "The heck?" he muttered, handing it over to me.

"It's the middle of the night? Who could have sent us a scavenger hunt?" I whispered, my amber eyes darting back and forth across the paper.

He shrugged, his eyes lighting up. "Who cares? Let's do it!"

"Ok!" I said, my voice wavering with a sudden mix of nerves and excitement.

He read the rest of the note out loud:

Bring the one with the trophy, on this scavenger hunt,let all know who's queen bee, before it's too late for the stunt,first thing to do is find the tree, the one growing right by the pond,look high in the branches and you will see, quickly now while we're still fond...

"Who wrote this? What kind of scavenger hunt is this?" Kieran questioned, shaking his head. "And whoever did has terrible handwriting!"

I grabbed the note from him. "Come ON, Kieran!"

He rolled his eyes, but he was already running. We rushed down the service stairs and opened the heavy back door of the hotel. Standing outside in the cool night air, Kieran pointed straight toward a tall pine tree sitting next to a moonlit pond on the hotel grounds. We ran over as fast as our legs could carry us.

Without hesitating, Kieran scrambled up the rough bark of the tree to reach another sheet of paper tucked into the branches. While he climbed, I looked down into the dark water of the pond. The moonlight hit the surface just right, and I could swear I saw a shimmering picture of a bee reflecting back at me.

Kieran jumped down with a thud, holding a sticky, sappy hand out. "Gross," he muttered. He reached down and splashed his hand right through the strange picture I was looking at in the water, breaking the reflection.

I took the new clue from him and read it aloud:

You're getting closer to the form, next to the maze awaits the clue,to unlock the final swarm, just one thing this time there will be two.

Kieran looked annoyed, crossing his arms. "Two clues? That's not how a scavenger hunt goes."

Either way, we ran straight toward the tall bush maze next to the hotel gardens. The first clue was incredibly easy to find—it was just sitting right at the entrance. It read:

You found the first, there will be more,collect some water to quench our thirst, this is your quest like in days of yore.

Right next to the note was an empty glass jug. I grabbed it, ran back to the pond, and filled it to the brim with water. As the ripples settled, I saw that creepy little bee image form out of the water's surface yet again.

By the time I dashed back to the entrance of the maze, Kieran had successfully found the other clue. He handed it to me silently, setting down a heavy-looking glass plate he had discovered hidden in the bushes.

I read the final clue out loud, my heart thumping:

This is the last thing you'll need, finish the job and make it clean,pour atop the water it's the feed, onto the trophy and make it glean,the trophy should be on the plate, if not place it there now,for the quest to be finished is the fate, don't stop to ask why or how...

"Kieran! Quickly!" I urged.

He set my golden queen bee trophy right in the center of the glass plate, but his face had gone completely tense and uncertain. "This is feeling wrong, Piper. Like it isn't just a game anymore."

I frowned, trying to stay brave. "'Course it's a game."

Holding my breath, I tipped the jug and poured the pond water straight over the top of the trophy, completely drenching the golden queen bee.

The metal instantly started to hiss and crackle. Kieran's eyes widened and he grabbed my arm, backing away rapidly. "Piper! Move away from it right now!"

I bolted backward with him, still not understanding why he was panicking. Moments later, the trophy completely combusted. It didn't just melt or crack—it violently exploded.

Through the smoke, a thick, buzzing swarm of massive wasps with angry, glowing stingers poured out of the broken metal. One of them made a sharp, horrific clicking sound, and the entire swarm instantly whipped around in mid-air, pointing their stingers straight at us.

Kieran instinctively shoved me behind his back, shielding me, and shoved his hand deep into his jacket pocket. He pulled out the one thing I had been making fun of him for carrying around for years: a can of heavy-duty bug spray.

'You don't need it!' I used to tease him whenever we went hiking. 'Bugs are just a part of nature!' But the second he pressed the nozzle, unleashing a thick cloud of spray that caused the surging wasps to hesitate and stall in mid-air—even if it was just for a split second—I realized I had never regretted a tease more in my life.

"RUN!" Kieran yelled.

We turned and sprinted blindly through the dark, heading straight back toward the hotel doors. I could hear the terrifying, high-pitched buzz of the swarm right on our heels, and I just prayed we could slam the heavy glass doors shut before they caught up to us.

Laiker and Kai: ages 9 and 16: I loved writing—any kind of story. I would write in the middle of class, on napkins at restaurants, and I even once wrote on my bedsheets in the middle of the night. I went through paper so fast that I had to get a new stack every couple of days.

Today, I completely ran out, and Mom and Dad were gone getting groceries. Kai was in his room, talking to his girlfriend, Alice, on the phone. I detest his girlfriend. She always calls me "little girl" or "Kai's little sister." She refuses to call me by my name.

I thought there might be some paper in the attic, where my parents had banned us from going. I walked past Kai's room to make sure he wasn't listening. He was on his bed, leaning to one side with a dopey expression on his face. Then, BOOM. He fell right off the side. I snickered, and he looked toward the doorway.

I ran into the entryway, pulled aside the ladder leading to the attic, and climbed up. It was dusty, as though no one had been there for years. All that was up there was a few boxes of old clothes and school projects. Then, an old book caught my eye. It was a brown leather diary, big and with enough pages to write all sorts of things in. I grabbed it, climbed down the ladder, and ran to my room.

When I blew the dust off the cover, I saw a name engraved: Lucy Moore. I swear I’ve heard that name before, but maybe not.

I sat down and wrote a story about a lost kitten named Misty. That night, before bed, I heard a meow by the window and saw a white tail flick. Maybe it was just a stray; California was full of them. But things like this kept happening. Maybe it was my imagination, maybe it wasn't.

Today, Mom and Dad left on a two-day trip to Los Angeles, leaving Kai in charge. He immediately called over Alice. She was even worse than ever. She kept telling me to do things for her and to leave them alone.

I stormed up to my room and grabbed the diary. I threw it on my bed with a heavy thud, picked up my best pencil, and began to write. My hand flew across the page as I wrote a story about Kai and Alice. In my version, Alice turned into a monster. She grew tall, her skin turned paper-white, and her features became twisted and frightening, with shadows pooling around her eyes.

When I closed the book, satisfied with myself, I suddenly heard Kai scream.

I rushed down the stairs and into the living room. Kai stood there, holding a TV remote like a sword as Alice, looking exactly like the creature in my story, advanced on him. Her form was tall and distorted, her long blonde hair disheveled and hanging in knotted clumps, matted with sticky blood, her eyes dark and hollow. Kai was stepping back, his hand wavering.

"Get back!" he yelled.

I stood there, frozen. I had an idea. It was a long shot, but it might work. In my story, the creature was obsessed with her belongings. I picked up her phone from the counter and threw it into the fireplace.

Her face turned. She lunged toward the hearth after the phone, but the moment she touched the flames, her monstrous form began to dissolve, crumbling away into nothing but a pile of ash and soot on the hearth.

Kai dropped the remote and turned toward me, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What was that?!"

I twisted my hands together and ran upstairs, my heart pounding. I grabbed the diary, brought it down, and flipped it open to my story. As Kai read the words I had just penned, his eyes widened—not in anger, but in fear and understanding.

After a moment, he slammed it closed. "Laiker. NEVER touch this book again. NEVER, do you hear me?"

I nodded, my eyes wide with fear. I wasn't planning to. I could still feel my heart beating, my pulse skyrocketing from the pure, terrifying adrenaline.

He pointed to the engraved name on the cover. "Laiker... you've heard this name before."

I knew I had, and just then, I remembered exactly where. It was from an old newspaper archive I’d found and read. 12-year-old girl kidnapped by mysterious figure. Body found mangled with wounds no human could make. That was years ago, when I was six. That mysterious local legend was what had made me want to start writing mysteries in the first place.

I flipped to the very first page of the diary. I hadn't seen it before because it had been stuck to the inside cover. There, in scrawled, messy black ink, was printed a frantic message:

Do not write in this book. It is a curse. By the time you see this, I'll be gone. Save yourselves. Burn this book before He comes looking for you.

It looked rushed, as though someone had written it as fast as they possibly could.

"Oh my god..." I whispered. I'd written ten different stories in this... this curse of a diary.

Kai snatched it from my hand and threw the heavy leather book straight into the fireplace. The flames licked at the cover, and it began to burn. But before the fire could consume it entirely, the draft from the chimney caught one single page, tearing it loose. The charred paper floated out of the hearth and landed at my feet.

I picked it up. Written across the scorched paper in a strange, shifting handwriting was a new sentence:

You may have stopped me for now, but I have tricks left to go. You can't stop me, not once I set out to finish what you've started.

Kai looked toward the front door, his gaze hardset. I followed his eyes to the heavy wood, the shadows outside the window seeming to deepen.

"Kai... I don't know how, or when..." I swallowed hard, the reality of my ten other stories crashing down on me. "But He's going to find us. He's going to find me."​

How'd I do???

I don't know! She just REALLY likes that hose!!!

She is NOT letting anyone up- unless they have a treat! 😂