Short Story
The Billionaire’s Cats
Jasper's hands got sweaty when he was nervous. Harper used to call him "slippery hands." Not a good nickname, but at least Harper tried. Jasper wiped his palms down his pant legs and inched forward, hugging the wall. He approached the corner of the hallway and wiped his hands again. Harper was supposed to be with him. It was Jasper's first job; he was supposed to have a trainer with him. Instead, he was alone; a nervous trainee with a gun expected to kill a rancid-smelling billionaire. Jasper pulled the collar of his jacket over his mouth and did his best to not breathe through his nose. How could one person smell this bad? Good grief. Finally reaching the corner, he slowly pushed his head into the hallway. The first thing he saw was the rotting corpse of a tabby cat. Ah, the cat was rancid not the billionaire. How long had that thing been lying there? Didn't this guy have maids or something? The hallway was empty, so Jasper made the dash to the large gilded door on the opposite wall. This part was all about speed, not stealth. So he tore the gun from his pocket and kicked the door open. He was standing gun up legs set wide and slightly bent when he was faced with what was in the bedroom: another dead cat. Other than the second carcass, the room was empty. Was he too late? Was the billionaire already long gone? Nope, Jasper rushed the rest of the way to the cat, crouched, and waited for the footsteps in the hall to stop. Crap, he may have to kill someone after all. As the noise got closer, he got more tense. Then suddenly whoever was walking down the hall reached the door frame. It was the billionaire, and he spotted Jasper immediately. Jasper threw up his gun. Could he really shoot him?
By Natalie Scivally3 years ago in Fiction
Among the Silent Trees
Gentle rain fell with a sound like tinkling bells to the ears of the hermit. He had learned to hear the music of the woods when he was a boy, though when exactly he had gone from boy to man was lost to him now. In a way, and after a fashion, the trees would speak to him sometimes. Not in the language of his parents, no. Those words and meanings were all but lost to him now, rather in a secret way he had learned… now when had he learned it?
By Alexander McEvoy3 years ago in Fiction
Sinful. Content Warning.
Taking a bite from the apple of knowledge damned them forever in the eyes of the God that they made. Knowledge is a sin. Science is sinful. The Sun revolves around the Earth. Nothing changed, everything is the same, we all live sinful lives ruled by the Gods we made.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 years ago in Fiction
The Mascot
"Morning, Mr. Humphries," Paul shouted as Mr. Humphries headed out. Paul knew a secret about Mr. Humphries but he would never tell anyone. Not because Mr. Humphries had told him not to, because Mr. Humphries didn't know he knew, but because he, Paul, wanted to keep it to himself. He was young, but he sensed that Mr. Humphries would not want others to know. He felt like it would bring trouble to Mr. Humphries so he kept quiet.
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
That Dark Realm
“She’s here again.” Grandfather Elder tree murmured. His deep voice reverberating through The Dark Realm letting every tree, every bush and every living thing know with the vibrations of his voice travelling through his thick gnarled roots deep in the ground to each tree and plant in the forest.
By Linda Bromley3 years ago in Fiction
Power of Friendship
“Your friends aren’t yours” the cold voice declares. The eldritch man sneered and circled me to block me from standing with those I trusted. I attempted to look into the eyes of the friends I had many adventures with, but they refused to share a single glimpse. I felt my heart turn cold as I realized the man wasn’t lying and my breath shuttered with tinges of fear.
By Joseph Lane3 years ago in Fiction
The Masters
A Terrifying Tremulous Trees story “They’re talking loudly, Twigly,” Charlie said while sitting on my top. “This should be interesting, Muata. Those Karate masters might fight each other,” Honon said from atop Mr. Murder Tree. Honon, Mr. Murder Trees friend, had connected to Mr. Murder tree almost 200 years ago. To keep his friend alive, Mr. Murder Tree put special soil made from a meteorite into Honons food, and now he can live as long as the trees. I gave Charlie the same soil, but Charlie is only in his late thirties.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
First Time Lover
The first time I fell in love was like stepping into a world I never knew existed. Her name was Pooja, and she had an aura of warmth that drew me in like a moth to a flame. We met in the quiet corner of a bustling bookstore, where our shared love for literature sparked a conversation that would change my life forever. With each word she spoke, I found myself captivated by her intelligence and wit. Her laughter was like music to my ears, filling the air with joy and possibility. Who would have thought I would fall so cheaply, don't blame me if you've never fallen in love, lol. As we spent more time together, exploring the pages of novels and sharing our dreams, I realized that I had found someone who understood me in a way no one else ever had. Every moment with Pooja felt like a treasure, each smile and touch goes into my memory and settled there. And when she looked into my eyes, I knew that I had found love in its purest form. But as quickly as it began, our time together came to an end, leaving me with a bittersweet ache in my heart. Though our paths diverged, the memory of that first love remains a cherished chapter in the story of my life, a reminder of the beauty and wonder that love can bring.
By Deji Akomolafe3 years ago in Fiction
