Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Reset
Something was wrong. I had seen this street countless times, walked the same steps nearly every weekend; I remembered how I had avoided walking past the house with the chain link fence that looked moments from falling down. Something was off and it unsettled me. I struggled to ignore the anxiety that was rising in my chest, the pool of acid that had started to collect within my lungs was making every breath increasingly more difficult. The trees were taller, the street littered with piles of leaves and weeds pushing through the pavement. The world started to spin and I realised I was hyperventilating, my heaving chest making the ground beneath me rock. The chain-link fence had met its demise, some time ago judging by the garden that had now overtaken it. I wondered what had happened to the dog that used to live at the end of a chain behind that rusted wire. I started to get light headed as I realised - it was silent. Not the quiet of a casual afternoon but dead-quite. The dog was no longer there barking at all that went past, there was no movement. I stopped walking and tried to focus on my feet planted on the pavement, tried to think of the warmth of the sun on my skin and the breeze in my hair. I sucked in a deep breath and held it, willing my heart to find a slower rhythm, begging my lungs to expel the acrid effervescence with my breath. Settling into the closest I could get to calm I inhaled once more before lifting my head and opening the gate to house number 43.
By Obsidian Words3 years ago in Fiction
The Zombii Spray Initiative
When I tell my wife I’m going to work for Zombii Co., she looks at me like I’m crazy. I can’t say I blame her, because the last thing you’d expect a biochemist to do is go work for a company that specializes in preventing the zombie apocalypse. The chances of having a zombie apocalypse are slim to none, but according to Dmitri ‘Jack’ Eslinger, people are nuts about zombies.
By Taylor Ellwood3 years ago in Fiction
A Hidden Treasure
In the far back corner of the attic, the shoebox was hidden under the insulation. Inside were memories from another time. Olivia was no longer the girl who once dreamed of sharing the momentos with her next generation. Somewhere along the line she had become a woman who did what she had to in order to survive.
By Kelly Horne3 years ago in Fiction
Return
In the end, the world returned to the chosen. We emerged from oaken hollows and mossy dells. Sifting through the ash and smog, we coaxed life from the dry, barren ground. We wove gowns from folly and hosted feasts among the hubris. Barefoot, we padded through the irradiated forests, luring three eyed fawns and bloodthirsty rabbits with the song of flutes. Praise to the chosen, we who stand when man has fallen. Praise to the merciful keepers of nature.
By Claudia Neaves3 years ago in Fiction
I Wish I Knew
“Wow… I don’t think I’ve ever noticed the burn marks that covered the walls around me... I guess I wouldn’t, right?” she thought as she adjusted her right leg, which was missing from the knee down, further into the dark, daunting hole in the cave. She always had to take the prosthetic off and crawl when trying to get in here.
By Naomi Walker3 years ago in Fiction
Gore-May
Gluttony, gluttony, gluttony ... I despise those with extreme intensity who lust food . My wandering eyes become focused. I sighted one man who has a firm grip on his cutlery. He consumes his food without a single intermission between every bite. I am amongst an enclave group of chefs who invite a handful of people to our secluded island every May. We encourage them to taste a variety of foods ranging from exquisite desserts, soups, salads, and elite entrees. After supper, there are those who return from where they came as we send them about their way. Then... there are those who are denied departure for our island, as they are forced to stay. Their departure is dependent upon their food consumption, alongside of the table etiquette they display.
By K. Wisendanger 3 years ago in Fiction
AI Topia
AI Topia There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Today those few that are left sleep quietly deep within the caves of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Today mankind has far more to fear from science than they ever had to fear from fire breathing carnivorous flying reptiles.
By Cleve Taylor 3 years ago in Fiction
Truth of the Wanderer
The rod bent back in his hands as the bait sunk deep into the water was taken. Smooth, sturdy ash tugged hard, then hard again, and the hook was set. Waves of dark turquoise, tranquil and calm, gently lapped again the boat turned rickety by the passage of years.
By Charles Beuck3 years ago in Fiction
The Silver Golem
Tenderly Adrian organized the tomes, grimoires, and scrolls in the shelves lining the walls. The library was of modest size, covering all the walls of the main room on the first floor of the household. It even warranted a large, stained reading desk with several tattered padded chairs to enjoy it with. Most of the books lay scattered about, many had bent pages, and some were smudged with dust and dirt. Any proper librarian would have broken down in apoplexy at the sight of such a mess. Yet to Adrian they represented his hope for the future.
By Charles Beuck3 years ago in Fiction
Xilah
She opened her hand. Sitting in her palm, the newfound trinket glinted a soft yellow in the dappled morning light of the forest. It’s a sign, surely, she said to herself. I’m nearly there. She pressed her thumb, dirty and lined black with grime, onto the smooth metal, crafted in a strange shape she had never seen before. A symbol, she guessed. It must have a special meaning, to carry such treasure inside. She lifted the chain on which it hung and pulled it over her head, the artifact resting gently against her heart as she walked onward.
By A M Portman3 years ago in Fiction