Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Heart’s Truth
My heart pounded in my ears as I reached the top of the staircase. I held my breath and listened for any movement behind me. I did not think I was being followed, but it was only a matter of time before the Council would come searching for me. “This is not a kingdom I want any part in ruling,” I thought to myself. Looking over my shoulder into the familiar shadows below, the fear I felt was replaced with anger. The network of caverns and tunnels that I had always known as “home”, now seemed nothing more than a glorified dungeon. I took in a deep breath and allowed that anger to fuel my actions. The air felt heavy as I slid through the old, barracaded passage to my left and kept moving through the darkness as quietly as possible.
By Rachel Farmer3 years ago in Fiction
Dust Callers
My ma always told me that the floating cities had risen from the ground just before the oceans dried and all the green on the planet died. Squinting against the sun as I turned my face skywards, the large glittering buildings loomed over us like a foreboding truth. For twenty some odd years, this had been my view as I looked to the sky. Whether it be at night to try and steal a glimpse of the stars, or during the day, the sun glaring against the glass and being an overall distraction from the desolate waste all around us.
By Logan Webster3 years ago in Fiction
The Killing of a Rabbit
I can still feel the incandescent fiery heat burning through the sleeves of my tattered winter coat. I can still feel the inferno of the house fire creeping it’s malevolent hand up my spine and tickling at the hairs on the back of my neck.
By Amandine Castonguay3 years ago in Fiction
Hand of Love
The stale, cool light of dusk fell on his hopeful face as The Twin tore the window's tattered curtain away. The world outside was different again today, but not too different. The same broken windows adorned the city walls. The same abandoned cars populated the same scorched streets. The same silent sky bore the same forgiving light of a timeless Sun stuck in endless evening. The same unmoving stone statues of those who listened to Her stood strong, always with their hands hiding their faces. The charred corpses of those who turned Her away all wore the same pristine, twisted, maniacal expression. Dead colors. Always the same, everywhere. Except for one thing. A fresh breath charged into his lungs and filled his heart with new fire when he saw it. Today there was a sliver of green! A new path!
By Amelia Leonhart3 years ago in Fiction
Beyond His Control
Anthony scrolled through the pictures on his phone and wondered why he hadn’t taking more when he had had the chance. Pictures of how the world used to be, one in particular always got to him, it was of himself and five of his high school friends standing on a peer, the sunshine gleaming on their hair, smiles beaming without a care in the world. A knot thickened in his throat, when he remembered he would never see any of them again, not even the sun. He missed the wind and the rain, seeing new faces as he walked down the boulevard. The world was now just this bunker, and he shared it with precisely one thousand people.
By Amanda Cecil3 years ago in Fiction
The Chocolate Underpants Caper
THE CHOCOLATE UNDERPANTS CAPER Mary Harris I’m an officer. A grievance officer. Dana Gore, assigned to Local 221, American Authors Union. All the doo-doo that agents, editors, and publishers dish out to writers ends up on my shoes. Usually, doo-doo happens because writers can be idiots. They don’t ask for contracts. They don’t read contracts if they get them. They sign contracts without any forethought or advice. Then the doo-doo hits the fan and they run screaming to me.
By Mary Harris3 years ago in Fiction
Earther, Banger, Scrubber
The Paths Trell breathed air through her suc. A small plastic disc she sucked between her teeth, her lips creating a seal to its specially constructed shell. You could not live out here without one. To breathe the carbon dioxide rich air was death. She crested the cracked permacrete slope, perfectly balanced on her feet, her sythn boots gripping better than her feet alone ever could, and launched herself feet first into a controlled slide down the curving path. She felt the thrill of the acceleration, her synth pants and jacket fixing her to the glide of the path as her boots had done, her eyes honed on the twists ahead trusting the sythn to hold her as it had always done. She would ride the path, to fall was death. Her path was three metres wide, she had space to lean into and glide out of the twisting curves.
By Kevin Mitchell3 years ago in Fiction
Annalise, The Archangel, and The Emerald Locket
Annalise tossed and turned in the night as she dreamed of how life once was cruising down an old country road of Northwest Georgia with her parents and two younger brothers. The windows were down, the warm summer wind was blowing her dishwater blond hair in her face. They sang silly songs and played various driving games on their way to the Chickamauga Chattanooga National Military Park to watch the whitetail deer come out for their evening graze. Her family had this outing every Sunday for as long as she could remember.
By Paul whiddon 3 years ago in Fiction
Azith
Everyone stared at him as he entered the tavern, but he didn’t pay any mind. Eyes tend to follow him wherever he went, so of course this place wouldn’t be any different. The stench of alcohol hit him as he weaved in between the tables, getting stronger as he reached the counter.
By Christian Bellmore3 years ago in Fiction