Short Story
The Scarlet Queen (Part 1)
In front of a huge crowd, a surreal scene took place inside the squared circle. In an event hosted by a promotion known as the Diamond Wrestling Association, one of their top young stars, Roxie Hart, was celebrating in the ring with another competitor, Empress Nikita. The two women just fought each other in a 25-minute match that served as the main event, and after the final bell sounded, both women--popular babyfaces--joined hands and showed their appreciation to the crowd in a very beautiful scene.
By Clyde E. Dawkins2 years ago in Fiction
The Silent Carnival: A Lullaby of Shadows and Teeth (chapter one-seven)
Chapter One The Veil of Twilight Where yesterday there had been just mist and woods, the carnival suddenly appeared as a jagged silhouette at the edge of Hollow's Brook, resembling a scar on the horizon. With her motor coughing into silence, Evelyn parked her rust-eaten automobile at the gravel road's mouth. The villagers had steered clear of her inquiries, their gazes darting to the forest as though the trees might listen in. After polishing the same spot on the counter for a whole minute, the gas station attendant murmured, "Don't go there after sundown." "It isn't intended for living people."
By Francis Royce 2 years ago in Fiction
A Bitter Pour
Miss Jacqueline Malone didn’t wait for service. Service waited for her. She strolled into the first bar of the evening—The Sparrow, a neighborhood staple—like she owned it, tossing her designer bag onto the counter and snapping her fingers for attention. The staff recognized her immediately. How could they not? She had once given The Sparrow glowing reviews, boosting their status in the local scene to 4 stars. But tonight was different. Tonight, she wasn’t in a generous mood. Her follower numbers weren’t trending as high as they used to, and she knew there was always another fresher, prettier influencer waiting to take her place. She needed engagement, and what got more clicks than a takedown?
By Xine Segalas2 years ago in Fiction
The Starlight Curse
In a world where magic coursed through the veins of the earth, two beings existed on opposite sides of a forbidden divide. Selene, a Moonweaver, could spin silver threads of moonlight to weave dreams and illusions. Eryx, a Starborn, was born of stardust, destined to blaze across the heavens and never linger in one place for too long. The laws of their realms forbade them from meeting, for the Moonweavers drew their power from the stillness of the night, while the Starborn thrived in endless movement and light.
By The Kind Quill2 years ago in Fiction
I Cancelled Valentine’s Day Forever—And What Happened Next Will Make You Question Everything About Love. AI-Generated.
A Night That Wasn’t Silent You sit alone on Valentine’s night, scrolling through a feed of diamond rings, candlelit dinners, and #RelationshipGoals captions. The world feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for you to admit defeat—to whisper, “I’m lonely.” But what if the quiet isn’t emptiness? What if it’s the sound of your own heartbeat, steady and alive, reminding you that the most important love story you’ll ever write begins with you?
By The Last Love2 years ago in Fiction
True Crime
Clare Newell-Stokes floated aimlessly around the flat. The seconds crawled by, slower than sludge. "Come on, Imogen," she muttered. "Don't you dare work late tonight!" The longer Clare waited, the more tightly wound she felt. When the key turned in the lock shortly after six p.m., Clare was pratically bouncing on the balls of her feet. She was so relieved that Clare was finally home, she almost flew around the room like a balloon with all its air let out. Of course, Imogen didn't come in and sit down in front of the TV. Having slipped off her shoes and trod into her slippers, she walked through to the kitchen shopping bags in hand. It became clear that she was going to put the shopping away and cook some dinner. Scowling, Clare ground her teeth and paced the living room carpet, arms folded tightly across her torso. "Hurry up!" she muttered. Impatient, she stalked into the kitchen, and peered over Imogen's shoulder. "Stirfry? You know I don't like stirfry," grumbled Clare. "I'd be happy with some popcorn or something," she added, but Imogen ignored her. "Sorry," Clare mumbled. "I don't mean to be rude. It's just... Well, I've been looking forward to this all day. Longer actually..." Imogen swept past and adjusted the thermostat. "Fine," Clare huffed. "I'll go and wait in the lounge, then. Get out of your way..." Clare made herself comfortable, and forced herself to wait patiently. When Imogen appeared at last, carrying her dinner on a tray, Clare beamed. "The TV remote is by your seat," she said. Imogen sank, graceful and cross-legged onto the sofa. Clare practically vibrated, and made no comment about the missing popcorn. Netflix booted up, and the two women carried on watching where they'd left off the night before. The police had just found another body, and Netflix showed close ups of the ligature marks just like on the previous victims. Both women were engrossed in the process the police followed: untangling clues, identifying the body (Heather Brightwell), and finally, making an arrest. Imogen couldn't take her eyes off the screen. Devin Schultz had dark eyes, good cheekbones, and a charming Iopsided smile. He seemed to enjoy all the cameras clicking and flashing at him on his way into the courtroom. During the credits, text appeared on the screen to inform them that Schultz had died in prison several years later. A new episode began. Clare beamed. "I think you're going to love this one," she said. Imogen was beginning to look a bit bored. "What is this?" she muttered, sounding annoyed. "I've never heard of this one..." The narrator went on to describe the copycat killing, and where the body had been found. "Look!" Clare pointed excitedly when the ligature marks were shown, and held up her wrists for a better view. The marks were still livid, even all these years later. "And on my neck!" she said, and sure enough, the next thing to be shown was the marks on the neck. "This one is boring," Imogen muttered through a mouthful of spicy noodles. "Never heard of this one..." She aimed the remote at the TV and jabbed at the buttons. In a moment, she'd brought up the episode menu, and moved on to the next one. "That's better!" she said. This one is the modern Ripper case." Clare gaped. "Hey!" she said, indignant. "I've been looking forward to this for ages! Put it back on! That's my story, dammit, what do you mean it's 'boring'?!"
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
What would you do for love?
Time seemed to be playing a game with us as the professor made the final calibrations. The lab remained silent, except for the slight hum of the servers. The very servers that we poured blood, sweat and tears into making. The very servers that contained the emotion of every lost relationship, every night spent sleepless, hungry and depressed.
By Yusuf Darasi2 years ago in Fiction
Pink Sheep, Cheesy Burritos, and Grim Reality of Zombies. Content Warning.
Pink Sheep, Cheesy Burritos, and the Grim Reality of Zombies The Blue Monkey rocked gently on the river's slow current, sunlight gleaming off its polished brass fittings. With each passing month the outfall dust of the comet hitting the moon, grew less thick, allowing faint shimmers of sunlight to reach the earth's surface. After two thousand years of darkness, frozen algae, and snow, life was returning to earth, now called Vesonta, as the ice age's end slowly creeped in.
By Wendy Christine Allen 🌸💖🦄 aka EelKat 🧿💛🔮👻2 years ago in Fiction
