Short Story

Of Three Faces
“Three-fold battle Goddess / Hear our plaintive rhyme /Guide us to your wisdom /In these dark and evil times…" "Guys, no, we shouldn't be doing it like this."
By Conor Darrall3 years ago in Fiction
We Didn't Start The Fire.
“Tokabo, Norden, Stoja,” I intoned, flexing my hands, channelling the currents of magic through my fingers. Little sparks swirled through the air like dust motes in a sunbeam. “Mastholmen, Rimforsa, Malm, Billy.”
By MikMacMeerkat3 years ago in Fiction
Roulette
I spied on him through the glass. I could see how unhappy he was. How utterly depressed he was. I could see his hopelessness. I know that look, I thought. How it felt when your body seems to be doing things at the direction of some deeper, more primitive desperation. I found his despair fascinating.
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Fiction
Beware The Coven's Call
"By the power of the ancient gods, we seek retribution against selfish evil," Linda intoned, her eyes alight with a fiery intensity. "With this spell, the guilty will learn a lesson that her conscience shall never forget. Let her deeds return to her threefold." The spell didn’t rhyme, giving Linda an odd authority and increasing the feeling of power that began to course through the room. The women let their robes fall to the ground as they stepped forward into the meticulously drawn salt circle. Emily took her prescribed place, as dictated by the ritual Linda had taught them.
By Aaron Richmond3 years ago in Fiction
Revolver
Revolver Ben Crocker Sam pushed the cleaning equipment into the gear locker. He let the door close against the smell of industrial soap. Sam slowly walked the length of the hall to the custodial office. He rapped on the door lightly with his knuckles.
By Benjamin Crocker3 years ago in Fiction
That Furry Little Witch
That little furry witch, Shannon thinks as she finds her black cat, Tilly, by the window, trying to get outside. “Nuh-uh, I don’t think so!,” she says as she pulls the cat away from the windowsill by the scruff of her neck, sets her on the floor and shuts the window. “I know you want to, but that is NOT happening right now,” she tells the cat.
By Hillery D. Keefer3 years ago in Fiction
Wicked Tongues - Part IV.
At the astute comment, the leading woman did smile. But it didn’t fit well, it was so wrong, obscene, all present could tell. A mannequin mask drawn over a shell.
By Addison M3 years ago in Fiction
Love's Eternal Flame
In a small, quaint village nestled on the edge of a vast forest, there stood a burnt house, a relic of a past long gone. The charred remains of what was once a cozy home now whispered tales of flames and sorrow. It was a sight that had intrigued a young girl named Isabella for as long as she could remember. She had often walked past the ruins, wondering about the story they held.
By StoryholicFinds3 years ago in Fiction
"THE BETRAYAL OF TIME AND SPACE."
She had trusted him with her whole heart, but he betrayed her in the most wretched way possible. He had cheated on her with her best friend and lied to her for months. She had found out the truth when she saw them kissing in the car parked outside her apartment, oblivious to her presence. She felt a surge of anger, pain, and disbelief. How could they do this to her?
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 3 years ago in Fiction
Wicked Tongues - Part III.
Witches of all shapes and sizes piled into the amphitheater from all around, the din of gossip and a hundred excited voices filled the area. Morgana, Serenda, and Calintha pushed through the crowd to near the stage, where they were greeted by Gilshea of the Bitter Brew, who waved them over to a better spot.
By Addison M3 years ago in Fiction
Wicked Tongues - Part II.
Serenda shook her head and tasted her teeth. “Ugh, you never really get used to that. You’re taking this well. The first time I went through I collapsed I was so dizzy. ”
By Addison M3 years ago in Fiction
Wicked Tongues - Part I.. Top Story - November 2023.
“sub luna lacrymis colligimus adorare” She said, finger carving out a spiral sigil in the crisp air. The obsidian pupil in the door slid shut, as a series of locking mechanisms retracted in turn, as the ironwork rose vines, complete with razor thorns slithered away, revealing the words beati magicae intrare. The cyclopean pig iron door grunted with exertion as it ponderously began to open.
By Addison M3 years ago in Fiction