Short Story

Blackrot: a Twisted Fairytale. Top Story - April 2024. Content Warning.
As the young man warmed his bones by the cottage’s stove, the elderly woodsman ladled two bowlfuls of porridge for them. Both their stomachs groaned in eager protest, but this unusually lean winter demanded that they ration what little they had.
By Ian Read3 years ago in Fiction
Guardians of the Whispering Woods
In the heart of the world, veiled from the prying eyes of civilization, sprawled the Whispering Woods - a forest so ancient, legends whispered its roots entwined with the very fabric of the universe. Each tree within its embrace was a guardian of wisdom, their canopies a tapestry of green whispers, speaking the language of the wind, water, and earth. These were not mere trees but sentient beings, the oldest of whom remembered the stars’ birth.
By Magnolia Shoals3 years ago in Fiction
Lyra
In the heart of the kingdom of Arindor, nestled between towering mountains and meandering rivers, lay the Enchanted Grove—a forest unlike any other. Within its leafy embrace, every tree, every flower, and every creature possessed a consciousness of its own.
By Ghazna Alvi3 years ago in Fiction
The Forest of Wisdom
Gunther took a deep breath and started up the hill between the vast trunks of the forest. He was immediately surrounded by the ferns and small bushes of the undergrowth, surprised by the stark line between this and his beloved plains.
By Diana Trezona3 years ago in Fiction
Zombies in the Forest
A Terrifying Tremulous Trees story I was having a nightmare. “Where do the dead grow, Twigly,” a nasty looking, moldy tree zombie asked me. It’s sharp teeth then extended and it hissed and ran after me and bit into my wood. I woke up screaming.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
Among Our Remains
The trees of The Marrow are eerie and lean. They loom like pale steeples. Their branches resemble thin arms raised in worship of the breeze. For as long as she could recall the forest had always been a solemn place. Even the birdsong subdued. The Marrow is neither welcoming nor wicked. Children are warned away. Told if you wandered long enough you’d lose yourself. Be eaten by the trees. Jocosa’s father Alaric, once a great warrior in the king’s army, taught her otherwise. Alaric understood the mystique after witnessing much of it in the war's pursuit for peace. He showed his daughter the ways of The Marrow the moment she could walk. They’d wander in at sunrise to stay till sundown. Catch balm beetles to use their wax for candles and wood finish. Jocosa enjoyed pressing the strange summer flowers while her father drew and journaled.
By Ravenne 3 years ago in Fiction
Magic Forest Garden Centre
I swayed in the hammock hidden behind the ferns. Dirt marked my pink overalls from the chest down. My body ached from unloading the latest shipment of terracotta pots.
By MikMacMeerkat3 years ago in Fiction
The Fall of Avondale
Welcome, weary traveler. You find yourself in the company of Finton Merrybrook, the greatest storyteller in all of D’veen! You look tired, please sit. I just finished preparing supper; you’re welcome to partake as well.
By Bradley Ramsey3 years ago in Fiction
Heart and Bone. Second Place in Whispering Woods Challenge. Top Story - April 2024.
Worst. Birthday. Ever. Thirteen was supposed to be exciting. A time of beginnings, endings. A rite of passage, a door to individuality and maturity. She was supposed to be surrounded by friends and family, not alone in the mud on the forest floor. Well, she was not entirely alone; there was the voice. That almost made it worse.
By Scott C Lillard3 years ago in Fiction
Idols of Remembrance
She floated down the endless hallway, draped in frail cloth, her name long since lost to time. The ornate halls before her were dressed in an array of colors, and amazingly different sights. To her left and right stood statues of those who came before her. Like me, who they are has been lost in the Halls of Eternity. Some of the statues were much older than others, their names and features had begun to fade. But those of the Old Ones carried in stages of decomposition. Each idol was dressed and decorated as if they were captured from where they stood in their prime; natural flora lay around them. She stopped in her tracks, a newer statue stood before her. Oh Dear, when did you get here?
By Rielle3 years ago in Fiction
The Crab and the Snail. Content Warning.
Once upon a time, a crab went travelling and met a snail. Intrigued by her spiral shell, he stopped scuttling to ask her about it.
By L.C. Schäfer3 years ago in Fiction
Not All Trees are Wise
Ronnie touched each tree on the way to the university. Nothing. They were all spaced evenly apart with concrete bases, aching with loneliness.
By Rachel Robbins3 years ago in Fiction