Fantasy
The email arrived at 11:47 PM on a Tuesday.
The email arrived at 11:47 PM on a Tuesday. Subject: Job Offer – Night Security – Urgent Start Congratulations! You have been selected for the night security position at the abandoned Sun Valley Mall. Pay: $450 per night. Cash. No taxes. Start tonight. Report to the back entrance near loading dock B. The key is under the loose brick. Do not use the front doors. Only one rule: from 2:00 AM to 3:00 AM, do not look at any of the security cameras. Keep your eyes down. Do not look up. See you inside. Marcus read the email three times. He had applied for dozens of security jobs. Most never replied. But this one? Four hundred fifty dollars for one night? That was more than he made in a week at his old job. He knew it was strange. An abandoned mall. Cash only. A rule about cameras. But his rent was late. His fridge was empty. And the email said start tonight. He drove to the mall at 1:00 AM. The parking lot was dark and cracked with weeds. The building was huge and gray. Most of the windows were broken. The only light came from a single yellow bulb above loading dock B. Marcus found the loose brick. Under it was a rusted key. He opened the small door and stepped inside. The air was cold and smelled like rain and old food. His flashlight cut through the darkness. He saw empty stores, knocked-over mannequins, and a fountain with no water. The only sound was his own footsteps and a faint buzzing from somewhere above. He looked up. Security cameras. Every thirty feet. Small black domes on the ceiling. Their red lights were on. They were recording. Marcus remembered the rule: from 2:00 AM to 3:00 AM, do not look at any of the security cameras. He checked his phone. 1:52 AM. He found a broken chair near an old food court and sat down. He kept his eyes on the floor. Eight minutes passed. Then ten. The buzzing grew louder. At 2:00 AM sharp, the lights in the mall went out. Complete darkness. His flashlight flickered once and died. He heard something move. Not a rat. Not wind. Footsteps. Slow and heavy. Coming from the second floor. Then a voice. Soft. Close to his ear. "Eyes down, new guy. Good boy." Marcus froze. Someone was standing right behind him. He could feel warm breath on his neck. But he didn't turn around. He didn't look up. The footsteps moved away. Then another sound. Clicking. Like fingernails on a camera lens. He sat in the dark for one hour. The longest hour of his life. Things walked past him. Things whispered. Something wet dripped onto his shoulder. He did not move. He did not look. At 3:00 AM, the lights flickered back on. His flashlight worked again. The buzzing stopped. Marcus ran for the door. He burst into the parking lot and sucked in the cold night air. His hands were shaking. His shirt was soaked with sweat. He looked down at his shoulder. A sticky dark liquid. Not water. Not oil. And something else. A small piece of paper stuck to his shirt. On it, written in shaky handwriting: "Good job. Same time tomorrow. Don't be late. And don't ever look up." Marcus threw the paper away and drove home. He promised himself he would never go back. But the next morning, his rent was still late. His fridge was still empty. And a new email was waiting in his phone. Subject: You're Doing Great. Here's Tonight's Bonus: $600. P.S. The cameras really enjoyed watching you last night. They want you to sit closer this time. Marcus stared at the screen. Then he looked up at the corner of his own bedroom ceiling. A small black dome. A tiny red light. It was recording.
By Esmat Zafari5 months ago in Fiction
Severine and virtue
This work is number 2 of a trilogy describing Severine’s life in three stages. After the painful separation of Mike and his partner for a cause quite independent of his affair with Severine, he left France. The mother settled in the south of France, leaving her daughter in the Paris region at the mercy of the first newcomer. The adventure for Severine, in comparison to what she knew previously, was a true psychological regression. The lifestyle had disappeared with Mike. Severine, several times disillusioned by the men with whom she tried to share her daily life, lived a difficult and austere life, subsisting only through social welfare. Mike tried vainly several times to maintain the connection, destroying the barriers placed between them by the mother, who was anxious that one day he might reveal to her who she really was. After fifteen years had passed, he managed to gradually reestablish contact with Severine. During his stay in France and having heard of her mental and social distress, he wished to see her again, a feeling that Severine shared as well. During these years away from his country, Mike amassed a considerable fortune and had the idea one day to offer a chance to the one who did not have the opportunity to seize it.
By CECILE HEBELLE5 months ago in Fiction
Eroticism Love Swinging
his work is the number 2 of a trilogy describing the life of Severine in three stages. After the painful separation of Mike and his partner for a cause very independent of his affair with Severine, he left France. The mother settled in the south of France, leaving her daughter in the Parisian region at the mercy of the first newcomer.
By CECILE HEBELLE5 months ago in Fiction
Nothing, A Fable
Down on his luck and desperate, a man journeyed to the farthest corner of the globe in search of advice from the Wise Man in the Hall of Wisdom. He had heard that the Wise Man had the key to a portal to a perfect world where he didn't have to struggle with the daily grind of life and all its failures.
By Dean Traylor5 months ago in Fiction
The Old World. Top Story - May 2026.
He bent down and dug his fingers into the dry dirt of the arroyo. It hadn’t seen rain in a month or more he surmised. His horse needed water. So, did he. He stood and surveyed the flat arid land around him. Except for the way he’d came. Couldn’t go that direction and if anyone was following him, they knew where he was. In the west, once his eyes adjusted to the bright white of the scorched desert ground, something took shape. A church tower. A town. A long way out still. He couldn’t push the horse much harder without water, so at least another day through the desert heat. There was nothing for it. Do or die. If it was a ghost town and there was nothing there to drink, he’d die anyway.
By Adam Diehl5 months ago in Fiction
Beware: Do Not Enter
The hair on his arm bristled as the wind swept through the trees carrying a whisper, a warning, on the breeze * No one knows the length one goes, to ensure that no one seesthe agony that summons death, from a dead man on his knees Beware the path that leads the way to the cabin in the woodmake sure your choice is right because it will be yours for good
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden5 months ago in Fiction
The Gods behind the Bar
The scales always sway back into balance. He slammed back a beer as the jukebox in the corner of this well-out-of-the-way hole in the wall cranked out some Judas Priest. Another dusty beer and a shot of Jack appeared without a word, as if by magic. They called him Theo in these parts, which was as good a name as any. He’d been on the run so long that it didn’t matter anymore.
By Matthew J. Fromm6 months ago in Fiction
Kanawa and the Living Forest
Kanawa silently drew the sacred horn knife as his child whimpered on his knee. Midday light beamed through the forest, a harbinger of the coming darkness. Blood trickled out of the harsh wound from the invader’s weapons upon the caribou's hindquarters, staining the undergrowth below. As the innocent blood soaked into the soil, Kanawa felt the desperate summoning begin–his last gambit to stem the tide rising on their shores.
By Matthew J. Fromm6 months ago in Fiction
Hourglass: A Tale of Anxiety Part 5. Content Warning.
“Stop worrying about what can go wrong and get excited about what can go right.” — Tony Robbins. This story is one of many in 🎗A Mental Health Awareness Month initiative🎗 held by Fictionry.com Please join us: https://www.fictionry.com/events/mental-health-awareness-2026
By Rain Dayze6 months ago in Fiction
