Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
What Now?
Nothing.. there’s no other way to describe it. I see nothing, I feel nothing.. There’s nothing left. Nothing, and no one. Except me.
Dalton BoggsPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Right Thing
Previously on Knife Skills The party was over; it went on longer than anticipated, until about 2:30 AM. The night, having gone better than expected, ended with several strong drinks with Rhiannon, an old friend whose reputation has caught my attention. She got a ride home from one of my chauffeurs, I insisted. No need for my new partner to catch an Uber when I have many employees under my belt. After her departure, I received a call from a potential client, a wealthy man from the Middle East who wants to sterilize his teen daughter to keep her from procreating. A very powerful statement for his two younger daughters to honor their father. Sounds like my specialty.
Angela DerschaPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Red Butterfly
“Salvation in submission.” These are the words that have formed the foundation of society, or at least what is left of it. At some point, they may have meant something more philosophical, something to guide the minds and souls of the masses. But beneath the stains of time, any altruism has been swept away and buried. We are no longer souls to be saved, but rather numbers in an unholy equation.
Kyle GaffneyPublished 3 years ago in FictionMy Serial Killer
My serial killer "No, I can't let this happen again" I said walking away from the cold, lifeless body in front of me. "So it's true than." A familiar voice announced.
Tiahna - Education = ChangePublished 3 years ago in FictionHow I conquered my fear but not really
In general I am a calm girl, I don't freak out often. "No no no no no I will not, I WILL NOT. I will sit out here in my towel until someone destroys that million-legged freak!" I really hate centipedes, and am somewhat sleep-deprived. I had played video games until 2 in the morning, then went to bed. As I slowly sank into my bed, waiting for sleep to come, I realized that I had not stopped sinking into my bed. I listened to the hiss of air for awhile before deciding that the patch I had put on my bed had not held.
Rose ArmitagePublished 3 years ago in FictionWinter We're Here Now
"Winter please sit down." "I'm trying to search for access to a latch," She whispers while frantically searching the walls with her hands. "If I could only see."
Kenny and the Upside
“What the fuck did you say to me? An upside? If you value our friendship at all, you better explain yourself, and I mean now.”
Shawn IngramPublished 3 years ago in FictionLove in The Time Of Post-Apocalyptic Moulds
“Post Apocalyptic Moulds?, What the fuck is a post apocalyptic mold?” Aaron had to nearly scream to ensure his scavenging partner Dave, who was mostly obscured by the blowing black dust, would be able to hear him “I don’t know man, you tell me. What do I look like a fucking microbiologist?” Dave yelled back then doubled over, racked by a massive coughing fit, mostly the result of inhalation of the poisonous atmosphere, an unfortunate and unavoidable hazard of his chosen profession. Aaron rushed to his friends side, put his arm around him and helped him scoot around a corner to a quieter spot where they could sit, partially shielded from the hounding winds and ever present, deadly particulate filled air. “I have no idea either bro but I found this heart shaped locket partially buried in the muck about 20 clicks east of here. Etched on the surface, it says `From EJ to DJ: Post-Apocalypytic Moulds. All my love. December 2019’” Dave had mostly recovered from his coughing spasm and turned the locket over in his hands inspecting it closely as Aaron continued to describe what he had found. “When I opened it a small piece of neatly folded paper fell out.” He took back the locket than handed the now unfolded paper to Dave. “It’s the damndest thing, the print is so fucking tiny, but clearly hand written, I don’t know how the fuck the dude could write that small, and there are images, digitally rendered, of what the author describes as various incarnations of the post apocalyptic moulds.” Dave quickly scanned the scrap of paper, essentially confirming what Aaron had conveyed, then whistled softly to himself as the age of the object, and the potential implications slowly dawned on him. “2019, damn, that’s almost 50 years ago, and more than 10 years PC (pre-cataclysm).” “Yep. Crazy right? I’ve been slowly deciphering the text and think I mostly have it figured. Thank God we didn’t lose magnifying glass technology in the cataclysm” Aaron said half jokingly. He had more of a sense of humor than his best friend, but that was not saying much, and post cataclysm, humor was a thing in desperately short supply, much like water, food, and just about everything else. Dave glared at Aaron “Not funny bro. If you’re done playing stand up what does it say?”
Everyday JunglistPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Apocalypse is a Process
"The apocalypse is a process." Journal of Belinda Montgomery Those words stick with me. The author had been dead for a year when I stumbled onto her mountain cabin, while scavenging homes in the Carolinas. Since I had immunity to the sickness, I could walk through the sick-camps and not even catch a sniffle. I was the one in twenty people who almost dies from it, lives, and becomes immune. I didn't fear MERS 26.
Kat DehringPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Artifact
Journal entry: Day 193 since the disappearance This should’ve been a normal day like any other. I would wake, wash, get dressed, have breakfast, and go to my classes. But it isn’t, no anymore. I don’t even know why I keep writing into this stupid thing, it’s not like anyone can read it considering that they all disappeared from the face of the earth, but I guess writing here is still keeping me somewhat sane, if there was ever such a thing.
Cristiana LupanPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Evolved Survive, Day 223.
Dear Diary, hello again. Today is day 223 since the poison rain. I'm still at the burger joint, still alone. Thinking about hunting down a different restaurant to live in, because this woman can't live solely on burgers. Or maybe I'm just bored and need a change of scenery.
Leah HarrisPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Lake and the Locket
What did he have to lose? It was almost two years since The Event, and he knew he had to get out of this current existence.
Lynn JordanPublished 3 years ago in Fiction