Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Fallax
A slight breeze rustled through the narrow streets, disturbing an old newspaper that had been discarded long ago, the ink so faded that no words could be distinguished on the yellowing paper. There was litter everywhere on the dusty road; syringes, random broken bits of plastic and food wrappers that had been licked clean of any remnants of sustenance. The buildings, which had at one time been cheap but fairly comfortable housing, were mostly dilapidated now, with smashed windows, crumbling brickwork, and some walls that were entirely exposed. There were dusty tarpaulins and bits of canvas hung up to replace the missing walls, where people were still trying to eke out a living in the increasingly dangerous surroundings. The only aspect of the town that was still in perfect condition was the small screens, cased in bullet-proof glass, that were attached to wooden poles in regular intervals along each street. A brightly coloured advert was playing on all of them simultaneously, with attractive, healthy people injecting themselves with some kind of blue liquid, surrounded by their equally healthy, equally attractive family.
Emelia ElliottPublished 3 years ago in FictionLife as we know it
The afternoon was hot, her forehead felt damp, unsure if it was from her overheating body or the outside rays of the hot sunlight that beat more and more neutrinos into her body. But she was grateful for the heat, the uncomfortable feelings of barely there nausea in her belly where the slightly stale veggies stirred, they were only a few days old. Just enough to make them edible but also just enough to sit uneasily to cause discomfort
Elaine SparkPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Darkest Night
Lyla shivered as goosebumps rushed down her neck to her forearms, causing her arm hairs to stand at attention, as if they too were anticipating the unspeakable.
Tiffini KnightPublished 3 years ago in FictionJohny and Joyce
Little Johny's come back to the ocean today. He never leaves for long, of course. Being from a family of ship-dwellers, he can probably count on his fingers the number of days he's spent out of the ocean since he's met Joyce, his lifelong friend when they were both barely old enough to crawl around the boat.
Laureline LandryPublished 3 years ago in FictionListon's Knife
Let the whole world witness the great art we have wrought. Tonight—I am more alive, more aware, than ever I have been. Kaminski gripped me in his left hand while in his right he carried the bloody heart of Mary Jane Kelly. In the morning, they would find the rest of her, and it will change London forever. I knew this was only the beginning of what we could accomplish together. Mary Kelly had been our greatest triumph, but with such a perfect brush as Kaminski, and all of London as our canvas—there was no limit to what we could accomplish together.
Lapis Lazuli
Monday Morning Ester stared down at her husband in disgust. Daniel lay sprawled upon the threadbare divan, that same one she posed for him on. Ester couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder at the damnable painting smiling so ethereally back at her.
Love Among the Ashes
“If you are captured, use this to kill yourself with.” Hiro’s wife handed him the dagger. She loved him unconditionally, but she was a loyal citizen, a woman warrior of Japan and her ultimate allegiance belonged to the Emperor, for it was He, the divine instrument, that had brought Hiro and her together. With a poisonous hiss, the blade slipped from its sheath. She positioned the tip of the curved steel to her stomach, intending to demonstrate where to place the blade before falling onto it, but Hiro knew the custom well; he had witnessed it firsthand during the first world war. With soft, compassionate, embrace of hands he slid the weapon back into its cover and took it from her, placing it into the military issue bag at his feet.
Scott ChadwickPublished 3 years ago in FictionMonica
The locket isn’t bleeding tonight. That can’t be good. It belonged to a friend of my sister. She died for the second time nine days ago. A simple, brass, heart-shaped thing that measured life from one cheap chain to another over its eleven-year run around the neck of Abigail Rossi. She was a nice girl, abrasive at times, but pleasant once the emotional walls lowered. After she died, the locket transferred in ownership to my sister. And, when Izzy found the whole thing a little too odd, it passed to me. Well, technically, it passed from Izzy to my mother to the garbage can and finally to me. It felt wrong leaving it in a dumpster.
Benjamin FordPublished 3 years ago in FictionUntil None Were Left
“There she is.” “Go after her!” “Right. Can’t let her get away.” I ducked into a metal storm drain as the voices of the Precious Metal Police, or PMP, closed in on me. They’d spotted me. But did they know which way I went? Did they see me run in here?
Mishael WittyPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Birthday Tattoo
It was finally here. My eighteenth birthday, I’ve been waiting for this moment since I can remember. The day I can finally get a tattoo! “Today’s the day” my mom said in a high-pitched tone as we sat in the parking lot of the tattoo parlor. My mom wasn’t super excited about this. But she told me four years ago today that I had her blessing to get a tattoo if I waited til I was eighteen. We’d planned on getting something small and hidden, so after a lot of google searches and drawing on my skin, I settled for a Diamond. This Diamond would represent my grandmother who passed just two years ago. Her name was Diamond and she was amazing before the passing of my grandmother I was going to get a cross. I just think this is more fitting, what better way to honor my grandmother’s memory than getting a tattoo that commemorates her. My dad has always been okay with me getting a tattoo. He said I was the most responsible kid he knew. My mother on the other hand hated it. She though tattoos were dumb, I was surprised when she told me I could get one. I had to keep my grades up and my behavior had to remain intact or the deal would be off. I was an angel, as far as they knew. I’d told all my friends that on my eighteenth birthday I would be getting tatted. They were excited, “your folks are the coolest” my friend shanty would say. Her mom would never let her get a tattoo. Shanty couldn’t even get a second piercing.
Jameela NancePublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Curious Case of Tiny John
--- When I was little, my mother would read me all the popular bedtime stories - from The Ugly Duckling and The Wizard of Oz to Snow White and The Little Mermaid.
Margaret PanPublished 3 years ago in FictionSeven Days
The goal was simple- find the locket. We had seven days to save what was left of the world, and that was only possible with Avery’s rose gold heart-shaped locket.
Morgan MacPhersonPublished 3 years ago in Fiction