Fantasy
A Fate Worse Than Death
A Fate Worse Than Death By Jamey O’Donnell Rachel stood in the doorway, not quite sure what she was looking at. Staring out across the back forty of the property, she thought she could see a faint glow of light about a mile from the house, illuminating the windbreak of trees with every pulse, in the hour just before dawn.
By Jamey O'Donnell5 years ago in Fiction
Eyes Like Mornings. Top Story - July 2021.
There was a rumor among the servants that there was no room in the palace that didn’t have eyes and ears peering in at all times. The spy network of the King was vast, enough so that just about anyone could secretly be apart of it. The servants couldn’t trust each other, the guards never knew if something they said was truly safe between them, and any visitors were careful of everything they did for fear of it being used against them. Lucas was one of the few who knew that it more rumor than truth. A useful rumor though, one that made it easier for him and the few real spies to do their job. They didn’t have to focus as much attention on the inner workings of the palace when everyone was scared stiff of trying anything.
By Ace_Strider5 years ago in Fiction
4M Deep Cake
The things she did were worth it. She had to deal with being in this hellhole, then she’d find a way to take advantage of those that were put in charge of the prisoners. No matter the cost or what they asked. She had a one-track mind, and she wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted. That was something that her father had always teased her about. That she was stubborn and spoiled. She didn’t see herself as spoiled though; she saw herself as someone who knew what she wanted.
By Rabideaux Kat5 years ago in Fiction
Blaze of Glory
Imagine it, if you will. The end of the world has come. It was left hung in ambiguity as good and bad decided to duke it out differently than what’s been foretold. God, in their royal glory and Lucifer in their dark glory appears on a neutral zone.
By Rabideaux Kat5 years ago in Fiction
Birthday confession
I am so excited for this to be happening; we are going away to the lake house this weekend. This is something that we do not do very often, and my mom says that she has something important to tell me. I am not exactly sure what it is going to be maybe it is a surprise it is my 12th birthday. My grandmother always would say that your 12th birthday is important for our family, but I never understood why. So, it is going to be a small party this weekend. Unfortunately I have had a toothache for the past couple of days, so I hope it goes away. My mom, my dad, my sister, and my grandparents are all headed to our Lakehouse to celebrate my birthday. I love coming here I think about in the winter when we go down to the pond where we like to fish and it’s frozen and glistening. How we ice skate and then my mom makes homemade hot chocolate.
By Marissa DeShields5 years ago in Fiction
Heads Will Roll
The thing about receiving a suspicious package in the mail is that, even if you think you know what’s inside it, they’re frightening enough to leave you chilled. Sometimes they’re frightening enough to freeze you completely, to make you stand there in terror and watch the box. And the longer you watch it the more you expect it to start moving. For something to pierce through the nondescript brown paper and come crawling out. You start to imagine it happening and then you’re not sure if you’re imagining anymore.
By Ace_Strider5 years ago in Fiction
Almost
The warmth in Misko’s hands almost felt like a blessing. It was a cold night in October, and it had been a week since they’d been through a proper town. Darkness sprawled out around them, gentle and cool as the blush of dusk faded from the horizon in the welcoming wave of night. Blue lumbered back to the campsite in the dark. They were strong, but even so, in their small stature, they were dwarfed by the mound of timber in their arms. Misko smiled and Blue approached, a comical heap of sticks with skinny-jeaned legs.
By Quinelle Bethelmie5 years ago in Fiction
Swords and Chocolate Cake
“Beraikah, see my eyes. There is no magic in this.” The voice of Quintis was quiet, but stern. Locked below a heavy, hairy brow, his fiery, gold-flecked eyes held a depth of wisdom that belied his brutish appearance. “Realize, there is no magic.” He winked. “Again, present,” he growled.
By Sam Walker5 years ago in Fiction
