Satire

Challenge of the Spider
I slip shadow-like into the yacht's comm room, a trail of dead guards behind me. Another successful infiltration. In my line of work they all have to be successful. There is no second place in this game, unless you consider the destruction of the free world second place. It takes a certain type of guy, a guy like me, to pull off a mission like this. To stare death in the face until death blinks.
By caleb paschall2 years ago in Fiction
The Boy Is Dead
The boy woke up. It was early. His alarm had summoned him out of the dream realm and into another realm which was characterised by its grey haze and dully lined clouds. The window provided an excellent view of the towers, of black bin bags, and the city buzzed and hummed, with the sound of engines and power drills. The boy waited a moment, held his device which revealed the time, and seeing as the time was not so jeopardising, ignored it entirely until such a jeopardising scenario would arise. The device held him in its supplemental light, covering in place of the shy sun, and the people in it’s universe existed in a state of perpetual happiness, or perpetual knowledge, and they never left, and they never stopped. The boy could not quite live here yet, he was close, but would need some short time to arrive at the glorious destination in which these people resided. And so for now he would settle and be content in peering through this luminous 7 inch window, a window he could press his face against and not worry, for he could see them, and they could see him and speak to him, and they would tell him stories and they would show him the way. He would at times try to return the favour, make conversation even, but he knew that they had achieved so much more than him, that they were too preoccupied in their success for someone who had not yet reached such an elevated stature. The boy stayed, eyes fixated on the wonders through which he could experience just by looking through the window, and sometimes he would peer through another window, showing him those who were not worthy of his status. Through this window he would snarl at them, as a guard dog does when he senses an approaching impostor, and he would speak to them, reminding them of their position, and teaching them a lesson or two about why they should change themselves, providing examples for those weak ones who resided in the echelons below his standing so that they too would be able to reach his level, and peer into the same window of brilliant hope. After a time the clock lurched forward, as the cost of the window was paid not in cash but in hours. Those on the other side of the window would take these hours as due compensation for the pleasure afforded to their subjects to view them, and to be fortunate to know them in any such way.
By Ismaeel Piperdi2 years ago in Fiction
THE LAST LETTER
**The Last Letter** It was a chilly November evening in London, the kind where the wind seemed to cut through you, but the warm glow of the streetlights offered a small comfort against the darkness. Emily walked briskly down the cobbled street, clutching her coat tighter around her. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and dread. In her purse was a letter, a letter she’d written and rewritten a thousand times but never had the courage to send—until tonight. Emily and James had been together for five years, the kind of relationship that everyone thought would last forever. They met in college, bonded over a shared love of literature, and spent countless nights reading poetry to each other under the stars. James was everything she had ever wanted—kind, intelligent, and endlessly patient. But somewhere along the way, something changed. It started small, as these things often do. A missed call here, a forgotten date there. Emily noticed James becoming more distant, spending longer hours at work, and finding reasons to avoid spending time together. She told herself it was just a phase, that they were both busy, but the nagging feeling in the back of her mind wouldn’t go away. Then, one night, she found the message. James had left his phone on the kitchen counter while he went to shower. The screen lit up with a text notification, and before Emily could stop herself, she had read it. The message was from someone named Lily—a name she had never heard James mention before. The words were innocent enough, but the familiarity in the tone, the casual intimacy, sent a chill down her spine. “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow! Last night was amazing. xx” Emily’s world crumbled. She sat on the cold tile floor, staring at the phone, her mind racing. How could he do this to her? After everything they had been through, the promises they had made, how could he betray her like this? But Emily didn’t confront James. Not immediately. Instead, she withdrew into herself, becoming a shadow of the woman she once was. She began avoiding him, throwing herself into her work, and spending more time alone. James noticed, of course, but when he asked what was wrong, Emily would just smile and say she was tired. She was too afraid to ask the question that haunted her every waking moment. A month passed, and the distance between them grew wider. James, oblivious to the cause, tried to bridge the gap, planning surprise dates and leaving little notes around the house, but nothing seemed to work. Emily could see the confusion and hurt in his eyes, and it only made her feel worse. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Emily wrote the letter, pouring out everything she had been holding back. She confessed how she had seen the message and how it had shattered her trust. She wrote about the pain of watching their love slip away and how she didn’t know if she could ever forgive him. But in the end, she told him that she loved him too much to let him go without giving him a chance to explain. Emily sealed the letter and placed it in her purse, planning to give it to James that evening. But as she walked through the streets of London, something caught her eye. Across the street, standing under a streetlamp, was James. And he wasn’t alone. Emily froze as she watched him embrace a woman she instantly recognized from the photos on James’s phone—Lily. They were laughing, holding hands, looking at each other with a warmth and affection that Emily hadn’t seen from James in months. And then, as if to seal her fate, James leaned in and kissed Lily softly on the lips. The letter in Emily’s purse suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she turned away, unable to watch anymore. She walked to the nearest park bench and sat down, her mind numb with shock. How could she have been so blind? The truth was right in front of her all along, and yet she had refused to see it. With trembling hands, Emily pulled the letter out of her purse and tore it into tiny pieces, watching as the wind carried them away. It was over. Whatever love they had shared was gone, a mistake that she had held onto for too long. She felt a strange sense of relief mixed with overwhelming sadness. She had loved James with all her heart, but now she had to find the strength to let him go. As she sat there, watching the pieces of her letter disappear into the night, Emily knew that this was the beginning of a new chapter in her life. A chapter where she would learn to love herself again, to trust her instincts, and to never settle for anything less than she deserved. The night was cold, but the promise of a new dawn gave her the warmth she needed to move on.
By Juliusly 2 years ago in Fiction
Balance
12 year old Marty Styles is sitting in his language arts class waiting for his best friend Cordell to show up. While waiting Marty is drawing a picture of what looks like a little kid wearing a red mask, a blue long sleeve shirt and a green cape. Stumbling in class at the sound of the late bell, Cordell rushes into class exhausted with his clothes crooked. “Nice of you to join us, Cordy” said the teacher, Mr. Michaels. “Sorry Mr. Michaels…there was a disturbance” Cordell replied.
By Joe Patterson2 years ago in Fiction
A Love Beyond Time . AI-Generated.
In a quaint village shrouded in eternal twilight, there lived a man named Victor Malgrave. His life, like the flickering light of a lantern, cast long shadows upon his heart, shadows filled with longing for a love he believed was lost to the winds of time.
By harish2 years ago in Fiction
Requiem's Prelude. Content Warning.
The worlds of super 'heroes' and 'villains' has been saturated with cliches and tropes that those with abilities feel pressured to follow and adhere to. Not I. My powers were borne from one singular act of senseless and brutal violence. As I lay on the urine-flooded floor of my toilet cubical deathbed, blood pooling from my mouth and several other gaping wounds, mixing with the brown, green and yellow creating a Pollack-esque artwork beneath my broken body, I felt nothing and everything. All at once.
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Fiction
Mr. Tangerine Man
“Hey, Mister Tangerine Man, tell your lies to me.” “Security,” bellowed the lord of moldy orangeness. He was not in the mood for hecklers. He was sleepy, and this was the last place he wanted to be.
By Cathy holmes2 years ago in Fiction
The Dolphin Guardian. Dedicated to Tiffany Gordon, our Vocal Superhero who loves dolphins.
It all began in 2021 when a kind heart met Vocal Media. "Not all heroes wear a cape". Some see their names up in bright lights, some quietly go about spreading joy and cheer practically unnoticed as they serve their medley-ed smorgasbord community with grace and kindness.
By Novel Allen2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Guardian of Emberwood: A Legacy of Magic and Protection
In the heart of the ancient forest of Emberwood lies a tale that has whispered through the ages—a tale of magic, duty, and an unwavering guardian. For centuries, the forest has been a sanctuary of mystical creatures, hidden realms, and profound enchantments. But as the sun sets on Emberwood, the shadows lengthen, and the presence of its last guardian becomes ever more crucial.
By Adeshola Motunrayo2 years ago in Fiction
228 Sango Jingo History Part 1: the National Flag
Somewhere south of Frisland, in a hidden dimension of regret defying longitude and latitude, lies the mysterious island nation of Sango Jingo. It is unique, named the most you-can't-get-there-from-here by Condé Nasty Traveler for two whole recessions running.
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Fiction
My Spy: The Eternal City – A Blend of Action and Heart in a New Spy Adventure. AI-Generated.
In My Spy: The Eternal City, the beloved sequel to the 2020 action-comedy My Spy, David Bautista reprises his role as JJ, the tough but lovable CIA operative. This time around, the stakes are higher and the setting more glamorous as JJ is thrust into the heart of Rome’s bustling underworld. Directed by Peter Segal, the film continues to balance action-packed sequences with heartfelt moments, making it a compelling follow-up that expands on the charm of its predecessor.
By harish2 years ago in Fiction
The Instigators: Doug Liman’s Heist Comedy Delivers Laughs and Insight with Charismatic Leads. AI-Generated.
Doug Liman’s The Instigators, streaming on Apple TV+, is a heist comedy that dances deftly between absurdity and sharp social commentary. The film’s approach is refreshingly unpretentious, favoring comedy and satirical critique over traditional suspense. With Matt Damon and Casey Affleck leading a talented ensemble, Liman crafts a narrative that, while predictable at times, is buoyed by its charismatic performances and witty script.
By harish2 years ago in Fiction