Horror
Fade Away
Start Twenty five years of scars. Each one had a fading memory and lingering pain. The man couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in a bed, or anything more than a pile rubble. Looking out across the near barren landscape he took in the scents from around him. Sweat, blood, and the cloying odor of mutation. Setting off on the old march, he listened to the crunch of his boots ring out on the wind. Other than that, only the occasional and distant howl from some creature broke the silence. It had been following him for days.
By August steiger3 years ago in Fiction
Phoenix Rising
In the gloom of my subconscious, I could just make out the dirty yellow sphere of the Sun through the opaque air made thick from the smoke of generations burning. I thought it had all been a dream, but I woke within this nightmare. I struggled to focus, uncertain if I was dead or if I had ever been alive. Even my memories were dulled and out of focus in the darkness of the lingering cloud. I began to move about conveyed by spirit, ethereal and without notice of my physical body. As if time turned back on itself, smoke and flame coalesced returning nature to its state of order before the chaos.
By The Bantering Welshman3 years ago in Fiction
Blank-Legended Lilith
"Dr. Yurna. Please help me. I have to have an abortion." It was as absurd—and as illegal—as if the girl had asked to devour her whole, bones and all, here in the consultation room. The population was staggering back from the abyss even now, wilted as a clutch of violets after church.
By Are Kölsch3 years ago in Fiction
The Stranger
I raise the soul of my tattered brown leather boot roughly an inch off the ground before pushing it forward one step, and into the seemingly endless flat bed of dry soil. Once again, lifting my opposite foot I take another step, pressing it down as I walk aimlessly. “I’m not sure where I’m going but it’s most certainly better than where I’m at now.” I ponder to myself.
By Christian C3 years ago in Fiction
Fool's Gold
She was five when The End, as it had been named, had reached its peak. It had been a slow but steady decline of technology and resources. Anarchy in the streets as prices were gouged and the people that once “served the public” invested in their own interests. Riots, murder, explosions across cities; all of this brought about an end to a nation once revered as great.
By Nikolle Freeman3 years ago in Fiction
The Apteka
September 26, 1983. Alarms blared at the Serphukov-15 bunker, alerting those inside that the United States and allies have launched an attack against the Soviet Union. The early warning system warned of an imminent attack by one nuclear armed, intercontinental missile. In haste, the leaders of the Soviet Union authorised what they thought was a retaliative strike. The whole nuclear arsenal against one missile. A missile that never existed. By the time the leaders of the Union realised their mistake, the United States was forced to play their hand. Mutual assured destruction followed, coating the world in nuclear radiation and ash.
By Victor Tikhanov3 years ago in Fiction
Hello, My Name Is
In my thirty-odd years on this Earth, I can't recall a time that I've ever sustained a major injury. No broken bones, no chipped teeth, not even a sprained ankle to speak of; in that regard, I suppose I’ve been lucky. At the same time, it seems unfair that my first true encounter with pain should come in the form of complete bodily annihilation. In truth, I don’t know what caused it. One moment, I was standing in line at the bank, the next, I found myself a crooked and swollen pile of jutting bones and twisted limbs. I think I’m missing a few of them, even, but I can’t be sure. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to feel anything but my chest filling with a warm liquid that I can only imagine isn’t supposed to be there. I’m surprised that I even managed to regain consciousness. I know it won’t last.
By Alexander Forston3 years ago in Fiction