Excerpt
The Stuff of Nightmares
She runs down the desolate beach track, breath coming in ragged, searing, wet gasps. Her feet lose the ground beneath them as she slips across the rough, loose stones. Blood seeps into her eyes from the gash across her cheek. Her knees and hands are grazed, burning from where she crashed against the gravel on the uneven ground. She needs to keep pace, to maintain her balance. She dares not fall again, though her limbs are fatigued. Adrenalin is surging and causing them to tremor with an uncontrollable ferociousness. He is right behind her, breathing hot fear into the void. She can’t see him, but he is there. He is always there.
Middlebroke
Dr. Betty say I should write down what happened so I dont flip the hell out and be a mess the rest of my life. She say if I dont do something with all the stuff I feel then I might do bad things when I get older cause I aint never seen nothing else but bad things and dont know no better. She aint say it like that but thats how she meant it.
Monique AndersonPublished 3 years ago in FictionRed Lockets, White Lies
The urgency struck me first. When describing the apocalypse, most authors and doomsday preppers of yore tend to leave out the utter, lung-sapping sense of urgency. When No’Am-Erica’s final nuclear reaction finally exploded, the gentle nudge by the government to evacuate soon gave way to a rat-race of survival. In the carnage, I only managed to salvage one item- a torn half of a red locket, with the initial “T” painted in white. It was an ancient artifact, given to me by my grandmother from her mother. My cousin, Yazmine, held the other half, a familial bind that kept us together as the world fell apart. I lost her when we evacuated. “Lost” being the operative word. I’m quite certain she’s alive: she far too stubborn to die. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of our mothers. With both of us now orphans (we both lost our fathers to the Intercontinental Wars of 2186) and separated, I set out to find Yazmine and settle down in our version of paradise. It was a commerce hub in the last century, sparkling with life and innovation and productivity. Before the world went to hell, our ancestors utilized the building to buy, sell, and ship products across the world. Because of the technological advancement, it remained one of the few buildings across the country that remained relatively unscathed by the ravages of war, radiation, and time. The ArrowHouse was our dream haven when Yaz and I were children, the closest tangible location comparable to what our ancestors deemed Paradise. A place with ample food, ample water, and no violence. A place where you could rest your head and not have to worry about not seeing the next red sunrise. I was determined to find Yaz, find transport, and get us to the ArrowHouse.
Samantha LoydPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Beggar
1. An awakening The air, cold, paints over the hair on my arms, leaving the skin dry and rigid. My hands are trembling, but not from the wind that grates across my knuckles. I open my eyes to look down at my hands. Bruised, filthy, tormented hands. They grieve and ache of loss.
Christopher EnbergPublished 3 years ago in FictionEgsra!
A moth on the verge of combustion fizzles through a fiery hoop. "Careful about them glimmers, theys abythul," erupted the oaf hovering over him.
Scarlet's Fever
Scarlet pulled her thoughts out of her daze long enough to focus on the creek water she was wading through. Her fever was spiking again, and she knew it wouldn’t be too long before she had to stop and rest. She normally tried to steer clear the area where crowds of fresh exiles were callously dropped off on the island, but she knew that with new exiles came fresh supplies. And she desperately needed food and medicine. Many people who were still alive on the island were no longer strong enough to fight her for her pack, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She had heard about a camp of exiles on the south side of the island that were killing people and stealing their supplies. She had no desire to spend her last days on Earth caught up with a gang of thugs, so she stayed as far away from their camp as possible. Scarlet slowly made her way back to her makeshift shelter through the creek, careful to keep an eye out for anybody who may be following her or lying in wait. It was a half-day trek back to her cave, and it would be nearly impossible for anybody to track her to her hideout through the creek. It was becoming more and more difficult for her to stay hidden, as the island was becoming crowded with people who had caught the virus and were exiled from their home territories. However, the dead bodies of those who succumbed to the virus were piling up nearly as quickly as the live exiles who washed up on the shore.
The Awakening
The day human beings became extinct was also the day they became immortal. It started like any other. Cathal's alarm went off at exactly 5 am with the newest pop propaganda peace playing at just the right volume. The temperature was perfect, the air quality pure. It’s been almost a week since he left incarceration, but this world still felt strange to him. In a cage he lived for fifteen years and yet this felt more like prison to him than before. At least the bed was comfortable and the shower warm. He heard the shower starting on cue with his thoughts. As he climbed out of bed the room virtually changed to a tranquil forest. The A.I. responding perfectly to his mental requests received by the chip in his wrist. The music changed to sync with the forest. The water was beautiful, now resembling a water fall it was exactly what he thought needed. There under the water he fell within himself. Water disrupted the artificial link between the chip and the network. He clutched the heart-shaped locket around his neck tightly as he closed his eyes. Made of pure gold it was from a time beyond the knowledge of those whom live today. Ancient it was with an exquisite obsidian set into its side. His breath lead him within a world of beauty and free flowing creation, which was devoid of control. A world with iridescent geometric patterns and beings of pure energy manifesting whatever they chose in the air in front of them. They played with the fabric of creation as if it was clay. Shifting their own forms at random will like octopi in the ocean. It was there that he could still see his son. And the wolf, Cathal always found the wolf, the massive canine with fur as black as obsidian was always there. Staring at Cathal with its glowing eyes. Eyes which glowed with the intensity of a raging inferno. The beast starred at him with an aura of both expectation and disappointment. He couldn’t help but get filled with fear whenever he stared into those primal eyes. But there was something familiar about the wolf. Cathal had the feeling that he knew the it. The water stopping sparked him back and he cleared his mind before the A.I. synced again.
Aiden von UlfPublished 3 years ago in FictionMouse Ears, a Wand, and a Bumblebee
She closed her eyes as sleep took her, her ancestors was listening, taking away the pain, injecting her with love and light. The light drew her in; flashes of memories flooded her mind. but she didn't remember her sadness when her pet fish nemo died. She didn't see the day her friend got married. She didn't remember the birth of her newborn daughter’s faith, nor the blood on her hands when she touched her newborn son brandon. The light portrayed images but not the image of her wedding nor the image of her graduating med school, shaking professor smith’s hand as she thought of all the things she wished she did to that sinful body. It didn't showcase the night she discovered who she was meant to be or her nights in the closet crying, away from others because public crying is a weakness and Evangeline is not WEAK.
Michelle LJPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Trial
Seems like only yesterday that she was here, I never knew how much I would miss her until she was gone. This thing now, this little locket that once upon a time might have seem so little to me is now the only remembrance, I have of her. All that being said I can no longer just sit here and sulk in my own sorrows I must keep moving in order to find safety in this hellish place that was made by man. I never though in a million years that I would be living in an abandon store front in this once beautiful city of Seattle trying to find a way to survive and hatch a plan to rescue the girl who’s neck this locket belongs to. Oh, Justine my love oh how I miss you and long for you only to be plagued by my thoughts of doubt that you are still alive. As I close the locket and put it in my pocket, I remembered that the name of the ones that took her were called the Silencers and that they had a hide out close to my compound in a near by warehouse on the Sound. Oh well got to keep moving, I cannot stop now the sun is going down and everyone knows that bad things come out at night.
MATHEW S HUDNALLPublished 3 years ago in FictionBAGGAGE
The sky was an unblemished sheet of grey and wept a heavy spray on the city below. The masses huddled beneath umbrellas and briefcases as they hurried across the street, stomping on their own reflections as they did. David walked alone, unhurried, protected from the weather by a thick Navy issue overcoat and shining cover. Those scurrying by gave him an obligatory nod as he made his way across the street. The metro was still a block away but he was enjoying the day already. His heart was light. Today was the day.
Dustin ZeierPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Remnant
The stench of sulfur filled what was left of fresh air as the remaining bodies continued to burn while we hid, choking on our fear of what’s to come for the few of us who are now the Remnant. Golden rays broke through the thin plywood pieces covering the windows of the daylight basement. This place below the ground once held standing-room-only parties where the smells from the grill made you hungry even if you had eaten before you came, and the music took you back to the moment you fell in love, no matter how many times. We laughed during dance-offs and cheered during football season. We made room for family and loved ones here. The summers were good, but the falls were nothing short of amazing. We enjoyed thousands of fall sunsets and autumn moons right under the covered deck just through the French doors that were now barricaded behind broken pieces of plywood, a table, and a few chairs stacked about eight feet high. We had no idea what was left of the outside. We’ve been down here so long, we’ve lost track of time. What happens when the sun decides to stop setting? We have no idea when to sleep without night. The screams have stopped, at least the human ones have. We occasionally hear these archaic wails that sound like the dinosaurs from the classic prehistoric world movies. The only difference is these pterodactyl-like creatures are a thousand times louder.
One Way
He was hot. Heat from the sun bore down on his shoulders heavily like burdens. Sweat dripped down his temples like the sap of an old oak tree. Yet he was still for a moment. The calmness of the scorching afternoon was graced with gentle breezes from a nearby sea. He inhaled the aroma of water and salt, and briefly considered how long it would take him to trek to the beach.
Kearra DominiquePublished 3 years ago in Fiction