CONTENT WARNING
The countdown
Tick, tick, tick. The digital clock on the bomb read 00:60, counting down mercilessly. Jack stared at it, his heart pounding like a sledgehammer against his ribs. Sweat trickled down his forehead, mixing with the dust of the dimly lit room.
Dreams of the Savannah
I am hungry. The dust is familiar, a similar colour to what I've known, but there are none of the scents of the savannah. The grasses would find plenty to feed them here but they would not be given the chance to grow. They would not provide cover in which to hide, to camouflage, to aid the hunt.
Rachel DeemingPublished about 6 hours ago in FictionStarlings
She was sat, having a coffee and gazing out of the window at the washing on the line. The sky was darkening. She should probably think about seeing if it was dry and getting it in. While she could.
Rachel DeemingPublished about 12 hours ago in FictionHow one decision that takes a minute
Warning This is a Fiction story that deals with suicide and the planning of suicide. How can one minute make all the difference in the World. In my case it did. Let's start from the beginning. It all started with the decision to take my life. That choice took way longer than a minute. I made a plan months in advance. I was going to go to a hotel and do it.
Jeremy WhitePublished about 19 hours ago in FictionAurora
Stars glittered across the moonless sky. Millions of brilliant points of light, more than Yusuke had had ever seen before. He marvelled at them, despite often having gazed at the night sky before, mesmerized by them. It had always been a dream, one that he had come to share with its original dreamer, to be in that place and see the stars in their seemingly infinite multitude.
Alexander McEvoyPublished about 21 hours ago in FictionUnveiling Corruption: Maya Sharma's Harrowing Journey on the Midnight Train
Follow Maya Sharma's gripping tale as she battles against corruption and deception on a midnight train journey across the USA.
Roar
"You have to get up. Come on. Come on!" He was dazed but he could hear the urgent pleas of another. He opened his eyes to blazing sun and he smelt the dryness of dust. His leg hurt. He reached to put his hand on it and it felt wet, slick but also rough where dirt had stuck, like a crust. His head was pounding, like his heart was in his frontal lobes, trying to beat its way out.
Rachel DeemingPublished a day ago in FictionThe Haunted Mirror
Emily had just moved into her new home. She was excited to start a new life, but something seemed off about the house. In the quiet solitude of Emily's new home, an unsettling discovery awaited her. She couldn't put her finger on it until she noticed an old, dusty mirror in the corner of the bedroom. It was antique and the silver coating was fading, but it was beautiful, nonetheless. Emily hung it on the wall and thought nothing more of it, until one night when she looked into it and saw a reflection that wasn't her own. As she gazed into the full-length mirror in her dimly lit bedroom, a shiver ran down her spine. The reflection that stared back at her was not her own.
Sara ChieffalloPublished a day ago in FictionRoyal Misfortune
The banished princess had been living off the land for several weeks, by now. The forest was still testing her, showing little sympathy, but each evening felt less and less like death. Perhaps someday it could feel like home, she mused. Maybe after some time had passed she could venture into civilization in search of an ally. For the moment, she was on her own, and she was doing alright.
Rebekah ConardPublished a day ago in FictionExploring the Frontier: Unveiling the Wonders of Artificial Intelligence
Amidst the consistently changing mechanical scene and the wide expansiveness of the mechanized world, there is a characteristic that has mixed both supernatural occurrence and fear: man-made thinking (reproduced knowledge).
Kamran ButtPublished 2 days ago in FictionTerminal Velocity
Sixty seconds. Twelve seconds folded over five times. She could make origami out of the time if she pulled her legs to her chest and cinched them with her arms but this wasn't about beating the clock. It was about perspective. It was about tasting the flavor of something irreversible.
Silver Serpent BooksPublished 2 days ago in FictionDark Fae
Legends abound about me, passed down through the centuries. Some say I come for your soul to eat; others say I come for your children and leave changelings in their places. Most don’t believe in me, but a few still do. Those few cross themselves at every strange coincidence, praying I’ll pass their house and loved ones by.
Mother CombsPublished 2 days ago in Fiction