Psychological
Deep Below the Gods
Beneath the Earth, Beneath Dignity The mines of Monte Ferrum were a labyrinth of misery, a place where sunlight was a stranger and hope suffocated beneath the weight of earth and stone. The laborers here were the Roman Empire’s refuse: freedmen too destitute to avoid conscription, petty criminals granted the dubious mercy of servitude, and gamblers who had wagered away their freedom. They dug with bleeding hands for iron, silver, and lead, their existence barely distinguishable from the beasts of burden above ground.
By Jesse L Shelley3 months ago in Fiction
Ego Sum Pt. 2
Read Part 1 Here The man arose the next day, starting the morning by taking a deep breath as his feet swung over the side of his mattress, firmly planting them on the wood below. The first thing he noticed was that his alarm had not gone off. The world outside was already basking in sunlight, despite the clock reading 5:55 A.M. The number flashed before him, a fiery red colour.
By caitodoesstuff3 months ago in Fiction
Down by the Valley
She left the diner around a half past five in the evening and began walking back to her car down the open stretch of road which led down to a nearby valley. She had only had her back to the cars for a second when she heard it slow at first, then all at once. The sound of glass shattering, the squelch of metal on metal, the shards rupturing, tearing and the way the road burned in your ears as tyres left skids upon the dirt. And finally, a loud thud, followed by more breakage and the collapsing of thick materials - designed perhaps not to collapse at all. It felt as though it were lasting forever, but within ten seconds it was all over. She turned around cautiously to see that a red car and collided with a white one. The red car was beaten up and old whereas the white car was a brand-new shiny sports car, possibly on the way back from the dealership on the other side of town. The shattered windows of the now upside-down white sports car dripped finely with blood.
By Annie Kapur3 months ago in Fiction
Just a Taste Part 3. Content Warning.
Ch 3: Chasing Shadows Isabella December 13th, 2024- University of South Carolina, Cafeteria- 10:30 AM (Lunch Period) “Daddy, I’m fine! Like I told you, it was as if God himself intervened!” I explained excitedly, stabbing at my medium-rare steak, roasted potatoes, and mixed greens salad. “An animal, maybe a wolf? I don’t know, but it came out of nowhere and tore that guy's throat out! It was incredible!”
By Rain Dayze3 months ago in Fiction
Just a Taste Part 2. Content Warning.
Ch 2: Innocent Dylan December 12th, 2024- Undisclosed location, approximate time: 8:45 PM Diablo, that's what people call me. I was once Dylan Aldridge, a broke, violent, homeless teenager. Fuck, that feels like a lifetime ago. Nowadays, I live secluded, yet comfortably. Known for my animal-like aggression and killing methods. To those on the outside looking in, I am a demon.
By Rain Dayze3 months ago in Fiction
Now Boarding . Top Story - August 2026.
Despite Kelsey’s best efforts in the art of self restraint, all she thought about while standing in the boarding line was how divinely handsome he was. There was something about his chin as he looked out over the tarmac that said “I can cook a meal, pay the bills, and still nerd out over a video game, but in a way that’s cute and not smelly.”
By Matthew J. Fromm3 months ago in Fiction
Face Down
The pelting rain bounces from his hat, drowning out the gurgling runoff funneling into the sewer at his feet. The streetlights wait a moment after each rumble of thunder before flickering. The warm glow fractures across the scene, matching the intensity of the crackling lightning. Another bolt flashes. Thunder rolls. A pause. Flicker. Rain. The expanse of the desert sky reflects the unoccupied street. He is lost looking up into the mirror ceiling, wondering whether he's looking up or down. The flooding street mirrors the painted sky. Or is it the other way around? He splashes through puddles. The street floods. The curb drowns. Rippling sky washes out. It softens. Melts. The storm eases—distant rumbles, escaping flashes. The rain trickles into the flood. The waters swirl over pavement. Blurs fade to solids. The world forms anew, and he sees once more. The mirror holds only stars. The street only himself. Streetlights buzz. Cars pass. He wonders. Blinks... realizes? He reassembles his memories. His knees tremble. His stomach churns. The pavement rushes up. Vomit. Crash. A thousand moments flash. White light warms. Too warm. Flames rise. A soul engulfed. Clear! His chest leaps. Back arches. Paramedics scramble. Who can hear the angelic chorus? A thousand voices praise he. They bring him to. Monitors ring out. Beeping overpowers the mind. His focus stumbles over then and now. A landing on the stretcher. A clenching of consciousness. Life clung. For now. It was a cold evening. His face had yet to wear the weather of so many bad decisions. They were all looking at him. The same dumbfounded faces on his closest friends and families. What had he done? Or had he not done? Their confusion mixed with ire as the truth set in. He'd bled them dry. Accounts empty. With nothing to show. That was the top of the slope he's sliding down now. The faces surrounding him now show pity. Concern. Disbelief. Murmurs sneak through the room as the track marks are discovered. Each mark, a record of another slip. Delirious and incoherent, one question hangs— Should he have stayed dead?
By Tales from a Madman3 months ago in Fiction
A Shortcut at Night through a Desolate Landscape. Top Story - August 2026.
Phillip crushed a sizzling red butt into the roadside gravel with the tip of his sneaker. He’d stopped to call home, but it had been hours since he was in civilization and cell reception was useless.
By Amos Glade3 months ago in Fiction
