RM Stockton
Bio
Seeking to explore and expand my creative side.
Stories (3/0)
Whispers from Beyond
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The darkness blanketed the woods like velvet. Heavy and suffocating. The irascible autumn winds howled, echoing the deep, painful groans of a tormented soul sentenced to eternal suffering. And the candle flickered. Flickered with malevolence. Tauntingly, fervently, the flame danced – dancing as though it was reveling in my fear, feeding upon my forebodings, almost beckoning me – daring me to come closer.
By RM Stocktonabout a month ago in Horror
"The Last Five Seconds"
Searching for answers has always been at the forefront of my mind. As a boy, I played with spaceships, looking to the stars for answers. I played with dinosaurs, asking God why the beginning began. Now, despite the wishes of my well-intentioned wife, I work 72 hours at a research facility in downtown Chicago. Before last Tuesday, the Chicago Facility of Cosmology had stayed out of the media. Our recent findings changed this, however. Now, the media can’t get enough of me nor my colleagues.
By RM Stocktonabout a year ago in Fiction
"A RETURN HOME"
September 12, 2027: Dear Diary, I have been mulling over in my mind what to write. I tried to think of something witty or clever to open, but I am finding it incredibly difficult to be creative with all that has been happening. Yesterday was my 16th birthday, and I appreciate all that Dad did to make my birthday seem at least somewhat normal – but nothing has been normal since even before Mom disappeared last year. At times, it seems like an eternity since I last saw her, and sometimes, it feels like only yesterday. Dad figures it will do me good to have a place to express my feelings and “deal with my grief”. I know he too is suffering, but he just does not understand me, and nothing can ever heal this hole in my heart. Still, I am thankful for this diary and especially for the necklace. It is a delicate gold chain with a large, heart-shaped locket. Dad says the locket was Mom’s, a gift he gave her when they were dating. I will never take the necklace off – ever! I miss you, Mom. I promise to write more soon! – Rebecca
By RM Stocktonabout a year ago in Fiction
