Fantasy

The Interview
Tik, Tik, boom! The taste of blood surrounds my mouth as more drips down my face like crimson sweat. The floor is cold and I don’t know how I ended up face down on this piece of slab. Rolling over, the pain in my ribs throbs and I lift to my feet. A sudden jerk knocks me right back to the floor. Let’s try this again. Another struggle to stand on my feet. The mountain ranges outside the window are passing by so fast. How did I end up on a train? The only mirror shows a reflection of a woman lost and broken. Empty pill bottles are on the seats, but I have a feeling they don’t belong to me. The screeching wheels on the tracks pierce my ears and intensify my headache. I clean up as much blood as possible and go search for answers.
By TR Anglin4 years ago in Fiction
"Fallen Flag"
by Lennox Ó'Súilleabháin It was the rattle that first awoke them. A low trundle rocking the fog of sleep from their eyes that brought them into the unnatural light. Their neck was sore, an agony to move side to side to observe their surroundings. They . . . Who were they? Taking in the passing view of trees and meadows through the window they sat next to their mind, muddled and confused, half took in the scenic view. The other half of their mind processed the situation- they were on some sort of train, that much was clear. They were sitting alone in a window seat in an empty aisle. Clutching their biceps, cross armed, they shivered. Each one of their breaths coming out in a cold visible cloud. Their hair, auburn, fell down to their shoulders in organized curls that they pulled at with nervous fingers, unfamiliar with the sensation of their own anatomy. A slender frame wrapped in the fitting form of a tea dress with aqua pattern of gingham. At feet, laced up in flat shoes, was a small leather purse. She figured she was a she, not for the attire, but at the very least it felt right. However, her name eluded focus, its contours fuzzy.
By Lennox O'Suilleabhain4 years ago in Fiction
He Who Controls the Line
This story is dedicated to my fiancee, without whom it would have ended before it even began. He wakes with a start. Within the eternal darkness of his mind, a guttural roar morphed into a high-pitched cacophony that he can now discern as a train whistle.
By Liam Cairns4 years ago in Fiction
The Train from Nowhere
The fading sound of childrens’ laughter woke her from her stupor. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to open her eyes, but they still felt so heavy. Groaning a bit, she turned her head to the side, her body following close behind. Realizing that she in fact did hear childrens’ laughter, her eyes flew open and she sat up. She looked around the sleeper carriage, a bit confused and a bit terrified. The last thing she remembered was crawling into bed with her older sister and younger brother. At thirteen, she has seen a lot of horrific things with her siblings, but still, waking up in an unknown train again would scare anyone. She briefly wondered if her brother and sister were dead, but shook her head quickly dispelling that thought. She knew that her fifteen year old sister would take care of their ten year old brother. Taking a deep breath she got off the seat and opened the carriage door slowly, hoping no one was outside her door. Seeing that the coast was clear, she stepped out of the room and looked around. There were rooms all up and down the hallway, as far as she could she and she strained her head to listen and see if there was anyone in the rooms. When she realized the coast was clear she tentatively stepped out of her carriage and tried to think of which way she heard the kids’ laughter heading towards. After a moment’s consideration she turned towards the left of the carriage and began walking. She hoped that she didn’t run into any of the people working on the train; she looked all over her room and did not find a ticket. She kept walking, keeping close to the sides, until she reached a door at the end of the train car. There was a small space between cars and while crouching, she took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. She stuck close to the shadows as she tried to peek over the window to see if there was anyone in the other car. Slowly peeking, she looked over the edge, then ducked down quickly after seeing some people in the car. She gripped at her chest, heart pounding and tried to slow her breathing. She had to get away somehow, hopefully they didn’t see her. She tried to slink back towards the car that she came from when she heard people talking on that end as well. Shaking now, she crawled on all fours to get to the corner of the carriage where the shadows were darkest and hoped that they didn’t see her. She couldn’t afford to get caught by anyone, not before finding out what happened to her family. She squeezed her eyes shut hoping that if she didn’t see them, they wouldn’t look at her. No such luck. The minute they entered the room between cars, they noticed her right away and soon they were all falling silent. She hoped that they wouldn’t yell or call someone and after a few seconds of silence, she finally opened her eyes to see people a lot older than her. They were not adults, not yet anyway, but they were not kids either. They seemed to look like the age that her older sister was, maybe a few years older than her sister. Her lip trembled and her eyes felt as if they were blown open and she knew she looked terrified. She thought they would do to her what the others did to her and flinched when one of the girls from the group got closer and extended her eyes. She could already feel the phantom pains being inflicted on her and she curled into herself more.
By Jay Dee Quimera4 years ago in Fiction
Stumbling through Wolf
He sat and watched as the feral beast devoured his arm. Watched as it tore the muscles and tendons from his bones. Listened to the crunch as it tore at his hand. A single finger flying from the remains and landing near his feet. "I hope you choke on the middle one you son of a bitch." He tried to say, but instead he just made odd gurgling noises. A lot of his throat was gone and one of his arms. He was dying. All of the blood that should be on the inside suddenly had other places to go. At least it didn't hurt. Well, everything hurt, except his legs. Probably a broken back from were he hit the tree after his arm had fallen off. Really more of ripped off but at this point he just didn't have the energy to argue it. He was getting tired, probably the whole dying thing. A loud snapping noise brought his eyes open. "what was that?" he gurgled to the thing sucking the marrow from one of his larger arm bones. "Oh, right." he remembered as he dyed.
By Joshua Cox4 years ago in Fiction
Children of the Hive
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But there were plenty of other sounds that filled the terrible void. She realized, perhaps too late, that anyone who told her that death was serene and peaceful, had told an appalling lie. The sound of the Hive was maddening.
By Vivian Noir4 years ago in Fiction
Runaway Train
By KSG Last Summer, I was vacationing with my family at an ocean side resort in South Carolina. Having had a fairly busy day of sight-seeing, sunbathing, swimming, and bar-b-quing, my room and bed never looked so inviting. After a shower and some channel surfing, I settled back in bed to enjoy a movie I hadn’t seen yet.
By Karen Graf4 years ago in Fiction
Tiger Lily
I am dreaming of the earthquake again, the one where I lost him to that lush, crazed, dancing jungle. I only saw him get swallowed whole by the palm trees while the engorged pothos strangled the banyan and longan trees begging for mercy. The birds of paradise finally took flight with the kingfishers and the barking toucans, bragging about their ability to escape such bitter ways of mother nature.
By Hanna Kennedy4 years ago in Fiction
The Curator
I was born a lost thing You have lost your things so you know what I mean. I was born in a train car, its wheels creaky and cold
By Jori T. Sheppard4 years ago in Fiction
Havenblock
Lia put her pencil down on the desk part of the chair desk and glanced over her right shoulder out the window. She was thankful that her professor cracked the window because she was able to smell the spring air creep in through the holes of the dark, wire window screen. The springtime air always contrasted with the view of the dilapidated inner-city neighborhood: the cold sterile gray-blue bridge, the partially condemned houses, the litter strewn street. The flower lined sidewalks of the university provided the city with its own personal oasis but the inhabitants of the city resented it and the students of the university, well most of them, took it for granted.
By Majique MiMi4 years ago in Fiction
Train ride to the Purple Heart necklace
A young lady named Rissa who’s in her early to mid 30’s goes to her local coffee shop every morning and orders her favorite drink and gets her danish and while she is at the coffee shop she reads her local newspaper before heading off to work. As she is reading the newspaper she stumbles upon a man’s story and that was just released from prison under good behavior and he was recently found alive by a young girl and her mother at a junk yard. While Rissa is reading the newspaper she had to stop and check the time and hurried on to her work where she is a local journalist and is interested in uncovering this man’s story. She goes on to tell her supervisor of how much she is interested in interviewing the man that was just recently found and attempts to encourage her supervisor to allow her to take lead on this particular case. Her supervisor is in disbelief and confused on why she wants to interview this man so abruptly and informs the young lady that they will think about it and let her know as the day goes on. As the day goes on Rissa’s supervisor still confused but goes on to allow Rissa to interview the man and informs her that as soon as something is not right that she MUST pull back from the story immediately. Rissa was filled with so much joy and excitement and agrees to pull back as soon as something does not feel right, and goes on to tell her other co-workers, family, and friends of the big story that she’s able to write about. Although Rissa’s boss is still not thrilled on this particular story and is continuing to allow Rissa to take lead in order for her to prove herself to the team by showing her what her full potential can look like if she stays on course.
By Jasmine4 years ago in Fiction
The Adventures of Springhill Jack. Top Story - August 2022.
When walking through the green land of Kilt, like the rest of the plane of Randós, it’s important to remember that every step is counted by someone. The men of the north in Terrador take the fewest steps, for every step is taken through knee deep snow. The elves of Lareth take the second fewest, for they live on a collection of small islands scattered through the Opal Ocean. The men and dwarves of Ekarus take many steps, for they hike over tall mountains to make war with one another. However, the men and women of Kilt take the most steps, for they are searching for adventure. They walk with their bare feet across the verdant green fields looking to write their own story and no one has taken more steps or written more tales than the old wizard Springhill Jack.
By Braison Cyrus4 years ago in Fiction