Adventure
Coracao. Top Story - August 2024.
Coracao could reach into your chest, remove your heart, and place it in her own. Simple as that - ignoring the carnage of having your chest penetrated by a foreign hand, heart ripped away from your ribs with subsequent massive fucking blood loss, and another heart reconnected to your loose veins. What was her point in switching your hearts?
By Ariana GonBon2 years ago in Fiction
Kismet
Brett was sitting on the old and worn couch in his apartment, drinking a cup of tea from his favourite mug, a Jurassic Park logo with “Tea-Rex” across it. The news was the normal cycle of garbage; wars that shouldn’t be happening, terrifying politicians somehow still with a chance, domestic violence on the rise, and then coverage of a teen girl becoming viral for doing something suggestive in an online interview … which seems about right for the world now.
By Savannah K. Wilson2 years ago in Fiction
Leaving the Nest
Elijah was a young emperor penguin. As with most young penguins, his parents set rules for him. Where he could go, what time he had to be home, with whom he could hangout. As with most young penguins reaching their teenage years, he resented all such rules.
By David E. Perry2 years ago in Fiction
Whispers in the Dark: The Curse of Shroud
Elias Greaves had always been a man of shadows. An enigmatic figure with a brilliant mind, he spent his days buried deep within the bowels of a sprawling, decaying city—a city where corruption festered in every corner and the powerful feasted upon the powerless. Elias worked obscurely in the sterile, fluorescent-lit laboratories of a large pharmaceutical conglomerate. His mind was unparalleled, his discoveries revolutionary, yet the limelight dodged him. The fruits of his labour lay stolen by those above him, their names in the annals of fame, while his remained lost to the void.
By JOHN NHYIRA2 years ago in Fiction
Tales of The Blackbird. Content Warning.
"HOOOLLLDD THE RODDERRR!” I screamed, being the captain of the sparrow, the fastest ship on the entire eastern sea, I had to be stern with my crew lest they step outta line, especially now of all times with the roaring storm calling our souls to ol’ Davy Jones. Fear ripped through the hearts of my entire crew as they hear a cracking sound coming from the main mastas it shattered and fell tearing down one of the sails and obliterating half my cabin. This one event brought misfortune, nearly turning the ship on its back and exposing the barnacles that lay under it. Alas, it was my job to save them all. I ordered the anchor to be dropped as I ran past the mizzen and headed to the lower deck. I had always kept the cannons loaded incase of an ambush and now that one insignificant rule was about to be put to good use. “Fire!” I shouted nearly tearing my own eardrums. But why? Some may ask. It was to push the ship backward and slow it down, and it worked. We took down the sails and some of my men decided to camp in the lower deck for the night leaving the ship at the mercy of the storm. I on the other hand stood at the nose of my ship. As fearless and as brave as ever, and that’s when I felt it, a sharp pain in my lower back. It was a blade. Lodged into my spine by one of my own. I started to feel dizzy so I could not place the face of my killer. Losing the feeling in my legs. I saw myself falling like a maple tree struck down by a bearded Scottish man. I was now off the ship and about to dive headfirst into the same ocean I found solace in for so long, but just before striking the sea…
By Melvyn & zika2 years ago in Fiction
Whispers in the Woods
She tugged on her boots and grabbed her jacket, the sun already dipping into the treetops, stretching long shadows through the trees as Ella wandered deeper into the forest behind her house. She had always felt this strange connection to these woods, though the whispers today were louder than ever. Her heart pounded in a mix of excitement and trepidation as she followed the faint murmurs, weaving through the underbrush.
By JOHN NHYIRA2 years ago in Fiction
Flying Under the Radar
On a dark night, Miguel and Israfil pedaled their rusty bicycles up the dusty driveway miles from the nearest town. Despite the heat, they both wore long-sleeve t-shirts and pants during the daytime to hide their olive skin tones lest they be recognized as "illegals." Miguel shone his flashlight on the fence and recognized the cat drawing as the vagabond symbol for a "kind woman." Peering further into the darkness, he perceived solar panels juxtaposed with a wooden outhouse and a clothesline.
By Julia Schulz2 years ago in Fiction
The Abyss Beckons
The enduring wooden vessel known as the Sapphire Serpent made its way through the moon-lit waves. The pungent breeze conveyed echoes of experience as its sails swelled. While keeping an eye on the skyline, Skipper Elena remained in charge. The diverse group of Mariners, Privateers, and Visionaries on the team yelled for more space, their giggling echoing across the deck. Stories of buried riches, forgotten civic institutions, and taboo love filled the boat's soul. Nevertheless, no one was as puzzling as the man who went by the name "The Whisperer." Because of the depths of his past, his real name perished in the sea. His face was hidden by a worn-out shroud, and his eyes held the weight of innumerable storms. The Whisperer moved toward Elena on a moonless evening as the Sapphire Snake sailed toward unknown waters.
By Celestine Muchiti2 years ago in Fiction
