Stories (31/0)
Wanderer of the Apocalypse - Episode II
You started following my adventure in October 2023. Unmistakably, the apocalypse did not start at that moment, as you might have imagined. The whole ordeal began way before then. One might say this was the outcome of so many years of accrued egocentrism, narcissism, lack of proper hygiene, and total disrespect for human lives. Embrace what was our early 21st-century society and its collapse.
By Eve F. R. Kirchner2 years ago in Fiction
Wanderer of the Apocalypse — Episode I
The sun is high in the sky, not a single cloud is in sight, and yet the air is still chilly. Between the stone buildings and the rain that fell last night, the humidity surrounds me. Half the trees I walk by on the street carry a mix of orange, yellow, and red in their leaves. The other half of the trees are dead. Save from the evergreens, there is no green left in the trees. The bushes have also lost most of their leaves, the only remaining ones are of a sad yellow. The flowers have long died and are merely a memory.
By Eve F. R. Kirchner2 years ago in Fiction
The Green Book
Content warning: This story contains graphic descriptions and mentions of suicide. This is the tale of a small-town girl who made a living by selling her art online. She barely made her ends meet. She enjoyed simple things in life, such as taking long walks, reading some obscure books, hanging out with friends, playing video games.
By Eve F. R. Kirchner2 years ago in Fiction
The Old Foe
As I follow the man going down the concrete staircase, I cannot help but feel her presence behind me. She is close by, way too close for my liking: I can feel her chilly breath over the base of my neck. I calculate we are arriving in the basement, in the parking to be more precise. The man has nowhere else to go, at least for the time being. He has been carrying a large hockey bag over his shoulder all this time.
By Eve F. R. Kirchner2 years ago in Horror
Just A Feeling
Following a diagnosis confirming having dissociative identity disorder (DID), I was recently asked by a friend to write a letter depicting my emotions. This is how I have been feeling lately, more precisely while trying to navigate through my alters and all the conflicting personalities.
By Eve F. R. Kirchner2 years ago in Poets
The Old House
I was that now average late 30s Xennial woman. I was divorced, and without biological children, save for my three cats. I drove a snowbaru while sipping my grande chai latté and listening to podcasts about serial killers. I also binge-watched shows about serial killers, read real-life murder stories, unsolved crimes, and other similar works.
By Eve F. R. Kirchner2 years ago in Fiction
Cold Box Lament
Content warning: this story contains passages some readers might find distressing. The Initial Shock I woke up a moment ago. I am cold. Very cold. Save for a very thin sheet covering my whole body, I am naked. I do not feel anything else on me. No earrings, no jewelry, no underwear. All is dark around me. I am also dizzy, and I have difficulties trying to figure out where I am.
By Eve F. R. Kirchner2 years ago in Horror