Horror
They Watched Us
“Jordan! Jordan! Bring your ass in this kitchen.” Mama yelled as she wiped the sweat off her chocolate-wrinkled forehead. Jordan peeked his head into the kitchen, the dandruff from his scalp fell like little snowflakes onto the white and black marble floor. Mama groaned and grabbed a necklace off the kitchen table. It was long, rusted, and the emerald heart-shaped locket twinkled in the thin sunlight that trespassed into the family’s small two-bedroom apartment. “I have told you and your sister to not play with your grandmother’s necklace. Y’all have been watching too many damn Harry Potter movies and think every little item is a toy. This ain’t magic. Your grandmother protected this necklace like her own child. She gave it to me when I was old enough, and now, I hope I could do the same with you kids. Until then, you and your sister need to keep your scrawny hands out of my dresser. Now, go outside and get Bria, dinner will be ready in a few.”
By Ashley Nicole Bourne3 years ago in Fiction
Mandatory Donation
“Donate today so that we may ALL thrive!” The sign that hangs, or more so, looms over the city. Constantly flashing. Making sure we know it’s there. The old, decrepit faces of our government, if that’s what you can call it now, smiling down upon us.
By Will Krupinsky3 years ago in Fiction
The Great Betrayal
The morning of 10 January 2060 brought no cheer. The tension in the war room was palpable. The President sat ashen-faced in his chair. His corn-gold wisps of hair clinging to his scalp. Nobody thought that this day would dawn, least of all the president. He belonged to an alternative reality. Where threats existed and were peddled only on paper. Never in his wildest dreams, even in his alternate reality, could he sense or smell the danger licking at our feet, as we paced around. The clock was swiftly ticking to the countdown. Everyone had eight hours to report back to the base or be left behind. For Forever!
By Mira Katyal3 years ago in Fiction
They’ve Always Been Here
They’ve always been here. The world lurched. John twisted as he fell forward, landing on the arm pressed hard against his side. Fresh pain exploded. Lights flashed. The edges of his vision went black. He vomited his meager breakfast. Sputtered and wiped his free arm across his chin, smearing the puke.
By W. H. Horner3 years ago in Fiction
Rat Duty
Jacob walked with the practiced ease of a man who learned his environment from years of repetition. He knew when to duck beneath hammocks, when to suck in his belly to get through tight hallways piled high with equipment, and when to keep his hands on his belongings to stave off pickpockets. Jacob was skinny enough to make traveling in the tight confines of the bunker easy, yet tall enough that he had developed a stoop to avoid hitting his head against the ceiling. His beard had grown beyond military discipline, but it was a minor protest they allowed so long as he completed his duties. He’d been a librarian before the bombs fell, but the powers that be assigned him to a life of rat duty. Day-in and day-out, rodents were chewing their way through the steel walls of the bunker, and it was Jacob’s role to keep them out.
By Max Russell3 years ago in Fiction
A Locket For Harper
The razor clattered to the floor, blood flew off of it as the kinetic energy from the fall quickly rushed into the liquid, sending off a shower of crimson droplets. Ralph looked at himself a moment longer in the bathroom mirror, regret suddenly coursing through him. Imbued with a voracious desire for life, he reached down toward the razor, intending to cut his shirt into a tourniquet of sorts.
By Liam Randall3 years ago in Fiction
Juliett
Juliett. She’s the only reason I’m here. I don’t actually belong here and I don't want to be here otherwise. This music is pounding, hurting my head. These people are annoying, running around and yelling. This drink is awful, way too strong. And it took us 30 minutes just to get in. The club scene has never been for me, I prefer to be home, or working, or working at home. But when my friends say Juliett is coming out, I force myself out. It’s worth it to see her, moving like an aerialist's silk ribbon on the dance floor, elegant, graceful, beautiful. And here I am, standing in my usual spot off the main floor, with the same bad drink in hand, surrounded by the same annoying people, watching in silence. “Hey! Hey, Michael!” One of my friends, Austin, appears through the mass of people toward me, “Ya, know. We’ve been coming here, what? Every week for about two years?” “Ever since we started working together, yes.” I responded. “Right. Well my point is, at LEAST half those times, Juliett has come with us and just about everyone knows you have the hots for her and you’ve never tried to talk to her once!” “We’ve had this conversation before,” I retort, “I can’t just walk up to her, she’ll think I’m weird.” “Well I think you’re weird and you still come and walk up to me.” From behind me now, another of my friends, Dylan, enters the conversation, “Austin’s right, you wanna spend every Friday in this corner watching her?” “I already do.” “Yes, and we all know how much fun you have every time.” I assume he meant that jokingly. The last of the friends I came with tonight saw our gathering and made his way over, Morgan, “Juliett?” He looked at Dylan and Austin, they nodded. “Alright.” Morgan said and in one fell swoop, Austin took my drink, Dylan laughed and Morgan lifted me up and began carrying me onto the dance floor. Being a good foot taller than me and this not being an uncommon occurrence already, he had little trouble in the matter. “Morgan I know what you’re trying to do but I do not need nor do I what your help in this matter, I have a plan and all I-” mid sentence I’m dropped and I stumble in a bid to keep my feet under me. As I am about to walk back the way I came I hear a voice from behind me, “Wanna dance?” It comes just loud enough to hear above the bass of the music but just soft enough to know who’s lips it came from.
By Austin Kirwan3 years ago in Fiction
Final Decision
Breathless with terror, she entered the courthouse using the badge she was given. Twenty-seven-year-old Laura Jenkins, pregnant mom of one didn’t know what to do. She bypassed the metal detectors and X-ray machines, a privilege given to grand jurors. She headed up to level four of the courthouse where the grand jury convened.
By Jen Mearns3 years ago in Fiction