Addison Horner
Bio
I love fantasy epics, action thrillers, and those blurbs about farmers on boxes of organic mac and cheese. I live in Orlando, FL with my wife, two temperamental avocado trees, and the World Record Holder for Cutest Puppy.
Stories (17/0)
Eleison
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But Mother swore by the songs of the stars. Planets and moons and even the meteors sing to us, if only we have the ears to listen, but the stars own the grandest voices and the sweetest stories. I always thought it was nonsense until the day I took my first spacewalk.
By Addison Horner7 days ago in Fiction
Drifter
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. They, the progenitors of our journey into the stars, and the harbingers of our near annihilation. They were brazen fools who knew nothing of the cosmos. I will ensure their mistakes never happened. I will stop them from destroying themselves.
By Addison Horner10 days ago in Fiction
Trying to Reach You
The ringing in your ears is so subtle, so persistent, so rhythmic that you must be imagining it. But as you wake, your body sprawled carelessly on a triple-seat subway bench, the ringing is the only thing that seems real. You don’t live in a big city. You don’t take the subway. You have a ringing in your ears. These are truths.
By Addison Horner13 days ago in Fiction
Three Stops
The first thing Arthur noticed was that his leg had stopped aching. A botched surgery nearly thirty years ago had left him with a twinge in his right knee that persisted every morning when he awoke. But now he felt only smooth leather seats and a thin carpet under his bare feet. The pain was gone.
By Addison Horner21 days ago in Fiction
Southbound
Jacob wakes up with his face pressed against plush seats and his feet suspended in midair. His stomach lurches as his body struggles to find equilibrium. He rubs the gunk from his eyes and blinks away the heavy sleep that tugs at his thoughts. His bare feet brush against a metal rack set into the wall close to the ceiling – no, the floor –
By Addison Horner27 days ago in Fiction
Ripe
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Yesenia wondered why Diós would send a little girl like her to a place so cold and desolate. She had spent a thousand nights in that clearing, staring at the darkened windows, waiting for the sunrise to bring her back from her dreams.
By Addison Hornerabout a month ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in Campfire Ghost Story Challenge
You Wanted to Be Alone
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The wind swirled into the room, stirring the scattered leaves on the floor and riffling the blankets strewn across the ratty green couch in front of the fireplace. It swept underneath closed doors, touching every inch of the desiccated cabin before rustling the moth-eaten curtains on its way out. The candle burned on.
By Addison Horner2 months ago in Horror
- Runner-Up in The Fantasy Prologue
Stories of DragonsRunner-Up in The Fantasy Prologue
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. For generations, parents had kept their children on a steady diet of horrifying stories featuring the flying beasts. They were the monsters at the edge of the night, the sharp-toothed consequences for young people who strayed from the wisdom of their elders. Naughty children get nipped, parents warned, and evil children get eaten.
By Addison Horner3 months ago in Fiction
TOUCH | Part 6 (Finale)
Melted snow left a slick puddle of water on the tile floor of the Bayfield police station’s entrance. Officers and civilians cycled in and out of the building, striding through slender hallways with determined purpose. The arrest of two armed mercenaries and the refugee family currently sitting in the crowded break room was more drama than the town had seen all winter.
By Addison Horner5 months ago in Fiction
