Short Story
The Living Statues of Orthavos. Top Story - November 2024.
"The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished," A soft melodious voice spoke quietly, as the sound of footsteps and water dripping echoed around the darkness in which the group was walking. The sting of ocean salt had stung their eyes as they went deeper into the cavern that they had taken a small boat to, off the coastal cliffs to the kingdom of Arataur.
By Hope Martin2 years ago in Fiction
A Fallen Cross
Introduction Today I saw a fallen cross. I thought I would write a short story Inspired by it. A Fallen Cross When this cross was erected it was to remember someone who had left this world. They would be remembered forever, their name and achievements carved in stone and placed on a cross.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Fiction
The Room
It’s dark. Your mind is foggy and you can’t see. You know you’re stuck in a room somewhere. There has to be a way out. There’s a drip, drip, dripping of water. You take a few steps toward it, your hand outstretched before you, reaching for the wall that you will eventually come into contact with. It feels wet. Slimy. Stones. A room made of stone? Your eyes are adjusting slowly. You see the outline of your fingers. You touch the wet stone again. Mossy. The liquid on the rocks… What is that? Sticky. Your fingers feel sticky. You bend your neck to meet your hand halfway to allow yourself to smell the liquid. You pull back slightly, before your nose reaches the substance on your fingers. Sniff… Sniff… Metallic. Sniff. Your eyes adjust slightly more. You start to notice the dark and light colours. You look at the liquid, it’s dark on your fingertips. You graze the surrounding stones with your hand, trying to feel for more of the liquid covering your fingers. You hear it dripping, there should be more; there should be a source. You feel a slow stream coming from the top corner. You notice it’s a small ledge giving a bit more space in a cramped room with no windows and as of yet, no door. You start tracing the walls following the path to feel for the door that is bound to be there. You count the corners of the room to give yourself a point of reference for when you’ve gone around the whole space. One, two, three, four… One, two, three, four… No, this can’t be. One... Two… Three… Four. No door? No door. Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s okay, don’t panic. The ledge! Get up on the ledge. Maybe there’s an opening up there. Ok, you can climb this. Easy peasy right – right? At least the stones aren’t flush with each other. You grab hold of the ledge at the tip of your arms. At least it’s low enough to grab from the ground. You start feeling for a good place for your first foot. You push yourself off the ground. Easy enough. Now you just need to get high enough to be able to pull yourself up with your arms. You feel for a good stone to put your other foot. You start pushing up to do it again with your first foot. You slip. Hanging onto the ledge is the only reason you don’t fall backwards, and instead press against the stones. This - is going to be difficult. You try again, keeping notes of the stones you step on in case you slip again. You slip again. Third time’s a charm. You grip the ledge again. You end up high enough up on the wall to pull yourself up with your arms. Using the remaining stones to give yourself a small boost. You make it to the floor of the ledge. Exhausted and warm, you lay on the cool stone staring up. You turn away from where you just pulled yourself up. Hoping to find an exit. An opening of some sorts. The floor is wet. The same type of liquid that was streaming down the wall. You pay no mind to it as you notice a tunnel. A way out. It’s a tight fit, but you start crawling anyway. Light. It’s dim, but you start getting excited. That’s how you get out of here. As you get closer, it gets brighter and brighter. Bright enough for you to notice the liquid on your hands is red. Blood?
By Tifany Walker2 years ago in Fiction
The river run on the day the queen vanished
The river run backward on the day the queen vanished In the mystical kingdom of Luminara, nature and magic blend together. On the day the queen vanished, something amazing happened. The River Astra, which had flowed north for centuries, started flowing backward.
By James ujor 2 years ago in Fiction
Something Wicked
Something Wicked D. A. Ratliff Something sinister happened here. Once home to nobility, the old manor hall had closed its doors to the world forty years ago and, forgotten by the surrounding community, faded into memory. Only a shadow of recognition as passersby barely registered the rusted iron gate. Then I found the diary in my dead uncle’s library, and I knew. Sinister lived there.
By D. A. Ratliff2 years ago in Fiction
Family Pictures
The Ferris wheel creaked and groaned as it spun, defying gravity. As a kid in the southwest, I had a love/hate thing with Ferris wheels. But something was alluring about seeing the world perched atop a rickety wheel held up by bars of steel and spun on demand.
By Kenneth Lawson2 years ago in Fiction
Endings and Beginnings
There is a question that pervades even as times change and grow and regress. In every household, in every relation, the inevitably of separation cannot be ignored. The art of the goodbye is not one that can be mastered, but is all the more likely simply endured to the best of one’s ability. Therefore, the question remains: is it easier to leave or be left?
By Samantha Smith2 years ago in Fiction
