Horror
Locket of Life, Locket of Death
Driving north on Highway 99, two miles out of Monroe, Jack’s ATV suddenly began bucking and groaning, black smoke rolling heavily from the exhaust. It was nearly dusk, and he knew the undead would become more active. The last place he wanted to be was in the open, where he would be especially vulnerable to attack by the living or the dead. He gunned the throttle one final time and silently prayed. He rolled into town, coasting to a halt in front of a large brick home at the end of a cul-de-sac; a final death rattle emitting from the Polaris.
Billy ThomasPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Backpack
Cody Stevens had on his favorite dinosaur backpack as he waited for the bus on the first day of kindergarten, but he would never see his family again. Despite barely sleeping the night before the red-headed lad was bubbling with excitement as he raced in circles around his mother and the other parents at the school bus stop. His best friends Thad and Danny were also buzzing around like little bees with nowhere to land. They were identical twins and more than a handful for the entire neighborhood.
Karen BouknightPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Long Sleep of Harold Brown
Harold Brown couldn’t sleep. He could never sleep. Year after year he struggled but sleep refused to come. He had tried all of the conventional treatments; soothing music, counting sheep, self-hypnosis, drugs. All proved futile. He had visited every sleep clinic and sleep researcher in the world and still he found no relief. “It’s all in your mind” the therapists told him. “Just relax, breathe deep, think calming thoughts, and sleep will come,” but it never did.
Everyday JunglistPublished 3 years ago in FictionGreg
"Ahhhh!!!!, Ruuun, Kill It!!!". If you repeat this over a billion times, then you will know what it is like to be me. Who am I? I am glad you asked. Not many people do…all I hear is either "Ahhh!, Ruun!", or "kill it". Sometimes separately but most of the time it is all three at once…..Sigh, oh yes, me.
Joshua BovillePublished 3 years ago in FictionTårer fra avgrunnen
Peering out of the ruins of a derelict and abandoned vehicle, bleached and baked continuously by the sun, he keeps his gaze. Sun is high and judging by the shadows: it’s around 1300. The bright glowing orb in the sky is sadistically pouring heat and radiation all over the landscape. He looks down at his drab and tattered jacket and pants, with tattered holes cascading down his arms and legs. A new wardrobe is a rare and precious find these days. The shadows inside the scorched vehicle offer little shade, but that is how it goes these days. Anything can be useful for survival in this arid and unforgiving landscape.
Water Is Life
Water Is Life by Joan Medina © 6/29/2021 In the time of pandemic everything became clear. A puzzling array of circumstance rearranged itself into organized chapters within my mind. And once this dawning rose upon the horizon of my thoughts, it became easier to sort through the shadows of memory and recall events previously lost.
Joan MedinaPublished 3 years ago in FictionPower for Good
Power for Good By Max Thor Thomason Election night 20XX. They almost got away with it. They almost won.
Max ThomasonPublished 3 years ago in FictionA Setting Sun.
“I found it laying on a counter. I got it for you.” Nia stares at the rusted silver metal in Jay’s hand, unimpressed and bordering on annoyed at the necklace that hung between them. She imagines it was a locket at one point by it’s full heart shape, but now it’s rusted and probably impossible to open. It’s useless. Completely useless. Nia looks up at Jay’s round eyes, sighing through her nose.
The Satellite
Nobody knows what it was or who might have done it. It may have been a cause of nature. It may have been man made. But if it was nature, it was so unexpected. Nature can be very mean and cruel and deadly when it needs to. When the balance of our world has been so thrown out of whack that it feels it needs to put it all back right, it doesn't do it by mail or email. It doesn't do it with a pleasant phone call or a nice quiet visit and discussion. It does it in a ugly and violent way. It screams in your face, because up until then you have ignored its whispers. Nature makes sure it gets your attention, or you die.
Amber SmithPublished 3 years ago in FictionOne Less
Sighing, I glance outside across the hardened sand and fierce spires that litter the horizon line. It’s a beautiful view, believe it or not. Sure, the whole landscape is a delightful shade of beige, but it’s the only landscape we’ve known for the past twenty years. Ever since the Ruin. And trust me, in today’s society, you’ve really got to appreciate the little things. For me, it’s the view from this godforsaken room.
For a Second Time
“Make sure to look for the correct medicine.” Devon says, as we search cabinets in this beat up hospital. “I know what I’m looking for.” I say. “None of this is what we need.” I turn to look at him, frustrated. We’d been searching for hours and have found nothing, anything of value has already been taken.
Lauren CaverPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Show Must Go On
“Ah- sorry! I’m so sorry, Captain Yuen!” Maxine coughed and wiped her eyes with the backs of her white gloved hands. The pale pink setting powder accidentally spilled by April, the newly hired makeup artist, now ornamented Maxine’s freshly pressed Show Uniform; such a grievous error was unprecedented with the collegiate artists normally employed by Corpol for major events. Maxine took a deep breath and sighed, vowing to take up her issues regarding Debt Reliefers working for Corpol with the Major after the Show.