Fantasy
Honored by Heirlooms
Littered across the floor of the dark expansive warehouse were half crushed cardboard boxes, and cans strung up together as a makeshift warning bell. The double doors behind them, they counted their steps to track their movements through the dark. They’d been warned of entering this specific clash zone. It wasn’t just this warehouse they needed to be concerned with. Or the people...
By Kyla Fleming3 years ago in Fiction
Costume Jewelry
Costume Jewelry News via Facebook; the government had been overthrown by enormous hordes of armed militiamen. The capital in Washington D.C. had been set afire and the Washington Monument had been toppled. Whoever had taken control of the government had also seized control of social media and news outlets. According to evening news, martial law had been declared, and a new president would be installed shortly. Cell phones would be suspended within a week. By the end of the first month email would be cancelled too. While phones still worked, we called Mom and Dad and our other sisters.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 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
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
The Shadowstalker of Zastava
Anyone staring down the dirt road would have been hard pressed to glimpse the shadowy form approaching past the rows upon rows of wheat in the deepening night. Had their eyes been sharp they would have seen the thin, delicate shadows of the tall stalks bending towards the figure moving through their midst. Passers-by might have tried to reassure themselves that it was the evening breeze up to its usual tricks, but the air remained still and the wheat itself remained straight. Only the shadows moved.
By Charles Beuck3 years ago in Fiction
Holocaust
Before he knew it had happened Sabrina was asleep on his lap and he was still watching the news. It seemed like another world. He couldn't believe all this had happened almost overnight or so it seemed. He really didn't watch the news that much. Always seemed to be too depressing and his life was depressing enough these days. The loss of his wife still fresh in his mind all he had now was his beautiful baby girl. She was his ray of sunshine now, and the only thing that meant anything anymore. His eyes were growing heavy and he decided it was time for bed. Rather than make Sabrina get up he decided to just sleep on the couch. "Goodnight baby" he whispered as he made himself comfortable. He fell asleep with the TV on.
By Josh Mallernee3 years ago in Fiction
Holocaust
Chapter 1 The morning air was still and the sound of birds was about all you could hear when he woke from his night's sleep. Jonathan sat in his bed remembering his wife who he had just recently lost to a battle with cancer. He still remembered the tears that had been shed when the news was given. Their daughter Sabrina was only 8 and her mother was dying. How do you tell an 8 yr old that everything she knew was about to change?
By Josh Mallernee3 years ago in Fiction