Horror
The Stroke of Midnight 9
There we were me and 'Queen Mask' just like those old cowboy westerns standing facing each other ready to draw. The art book was open and "Queen Mask' approaching slowly. Oh, masks of the sky hear me now for the book is open so let all your friends come join you so Mote it be. The room seemed to grow thick for masks and going towards the book just like a whirlwind. As events began to settle, I took a deep breath. I looked around and everything was quiet but not like before. There were no masks anywhere. Praise be.
By Mark Graham15 days ago in Fiction
I Began Leaving a Chair Facing the Forest
I put the chair at the edge of the clearing because there was nowhere else to put it. That was what I told people. It was an old kitchen chair, oak, heavy enough that the wind couldn't move it. I placed it twenty yards behind the house where the grass ended and the timber began, facing north into the trees.
By Jesse L Shelley15 days ago in Fiction
Nectar. Top Story - September 2026.
Alpine tundra begins between 11,000 to 11,500 feet. This is the tree line. We’d left the cabin two hours ago and the snow hadn’t stopped. Louise and Sam walked ahead of me, clouds of future plans hanging in front of them. I snorted to myself. The irony. All I had was refilling my bird feeders when I got home.
By Mackenzie Davis15 days ago in Fiction
Good Neighbours
The carollers come at midnight on June 25. Like every year, the whole town had gone silent, waiting for the familiar thud of heavy boots on pavement. They appeared where they always did, on the Fern Street hill. They marched through town in their signature formation: three rows of three, all clad in black cloaks and heavy hoods.
By Steph Marie15 days ago in Fiction
An Unexpected Eclipse. Content Warning.
OVERALL CONTENT WARNING: MATURE LANGUAGE, RELIGIOUS CULTS, MENTIONS OF MASS SUICIDE, ALLUDED DEATH...ETC. Night is close. You strain with the effort of lugging your gear and telescope up towards the plateau you've chosen, quasi-hopeful this one will offer you a prime, uncrowded platform. And, you hope, no jail time.
By Megan Baker (@thegothofsawpit)(@shadowsitheghoststrikebwr)15 days ago in Fiction
spring has sprung (in a flowerbed of lonely, empty stems)
It’s the first day of spring here in Wellingville, but for Merryrose, it’s just another day. The morning breeze tickles her nose as she steps outside with her nose up high, her sleek, small purse slung over her slender shoulder. Her heels strike against the concrete like hammers against stone, as if she’s trying to break the pavement underneath her weight.
By angela hepworth15 days ago in Fiction
The Easter Rarebit. Honorable Mention in Out of Season Challenge. Top Story - September 2026.
For some context, watch this: The first thing to note was the temperature. For a rabbit, this was a strange sensation. With all of his fur and energy, he should be just fine with this type of weather. But there was the bigger problem of knowing too much about what time of year it should be.
By Kendall Defoe 15 days ago in Fiction
I'm sorry
Ashveil Hollow wasn't like a lot of the small towns in the Midwest. Sure, it had the lighthouse; some of the streets were still cobbled because repaving them would cost a fortune. The fog would always set in before the crack of dawn and then leave from three until the same time tomorrow.
By Chel Writes16 days ago in Fiction
A Wee Bit o' Trouble. Top Story - September 2026.
Saturday, December 20, 2025 The first sign of disturbance was when Rudolph's nose was hacked off. There he was in our front yard, leading Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen - minus his bright, red sniffer. My husband grumbled, "Kids these days! They have no respect for anyone's property."
By Julie Lacksonen16 days ago in Fiction
