thriller

Offness. Honorable Mention in They Shouldn’t Have Come Here Challenge.
A sharp hit to my ribs jolts me out of my deep sleep. I don’t remember falling asleep at Connor’s place but I guess I must have. My hand jumps to the sure-to-bruise spot. Maybe Connor let his dog in from the cold. Maybe it jumped up on the couch with me and took my breath away with its pouncing paws.
By Raine Neal5 months ago in Fiction
Pink Buds. Top Story - June 2026. Content Warning.
Running through the weed patch, laughing, I listened for the others as they ran all around me. Who knew there was such a gold mine, or rather, field, right here outside the city limits? Jay Jay had stopped somewhere up ahead, and I could hear him with his “Blessed Mother Mary’s.” While Will and Trina were giggling together somewhere behind me, Suzie was just ahead of me, just as giddy as I was, looking over her shoulder like she wanted to ask me a question.
By Mother Combs5 months ago in Fiction
THE SOVEREIGN ROUTE
PART ONE: ROUTINE MAINTENANCE The access road had been erased from municipal records in 2041, the year the grid went live. Kael Voss remembered because he'd been the one to file the decommissioning paperwork, back when he still wore the logistics corps insignia and believed infrastructure served people rather than controlled them.
By Charles V Sasser Jr5 months ago in Fiction
THE ZERO-SUM SIMULATION
BEAT 1: THE PERFECT TEST RESULTS The control room hummed with the white noise of a hundred cooling fans, a sound Patrick had learned to ignore over twenty-three years of evaluating training systems. But tonight, the hum felt different—accusatory, almost. Like the machines themselves were holding their breath.
By Charles V Sasser Jr5 months ago in Fiction
They Waved Back
The first mistake was the shoes. Not the road. Not the weather. Not the fact that they arrived after dark, though everyone later agreed that arriving after dark was unwise.
By Alain SUPPINI5 months ago in Fiction
The Last Letter from Tomorrow
Ryan was an ordinary seventeen-year-old who lived in a small town where nothing exciting ever seemed to happen. Every day followed the same routine: school, homework, dinner, and sleep.
By Waleed khan5 months ago in Fiction
An algorithms last prayer . AI-Generated.
The sky was no longer blue. A dull amber glow hung like a dying bulb over the ruined skyline of Old Chicago. Concrete husks of skyscrapers jutted from the earth like shattered teeth, their glass eyes long since gouged out by fire, wind, and war. The streets below were veined with rust and silence, the echoes of humanity scattered to ash.
By E. hasan5 months ago in Fiction
The Phone Call That Brought Everything I'd Been Running From Back to My Door. AI-Generated.
We can outrun a lot of things. We can move to a different city. Change careers. Build new routines. Fill our calendars so completely that there's barely room to think.
By Padm R5 months ago in Fiction
Trapped
The boy had fallen asleep shortly after the older man had cleaned him up. The older man was sitting on the desk chair, and Henry was standing next to him. They thought it would be best to stay away from the door, and they wanted to stay with the boy, in case he needed them.
By Emy Quinn5 months ago in Fiction
YNs–Tattoos. Content Warning.
2013 An ankle connecting a foot in plastic hung under the logo of the tavern The Iron Knee in Wilmington, Delaware. The joke was lost on some, but for those who got it, they were probably too hammered to even comprehend beyond the sardonic piece of witticism. A golden glow seeped through the space and allowed steins to show bubbles floating to the top in a gilded fashion. The din of the place featured a few bursts of laughter amongst the idle chatter. Garr Forsyth, 22, looked around and found his schoolmate from the University of Delaware. They had been on spring break. He was six three and spelled the name “athlete.” With bronze skin and frizzy hair, he noticed the friend coming in the door to the bar.
By Skyler Saunders5 months ago in Fiction
YNs—Speedster. Content Warning.
1994 Cosmo Millhand’s clothes looked clean. At twenty-four-years-old, he had attained a master’s degree and ensured that he looked and smelled clean. His suit and dress shoes appeared immaculate. He lived in a house that looked like it could take flight. The leaves angled like wings in a dream. He hopped into his yellow Porsche 911 Speedster convertible with the black top. With the flip of a switch a tiny compartment opened and a crackpipe and a lighter issued forth. By reaching into his pocket, he extracted a baggie with ready rock in it. With precision, he added the contents of the small bag to the crackpipe. A flick of the lighter burned at one end of the crackpipe and the product heated. Once he took in the drug, his heart beat quickened and his eyes widened. The charge from the rush of the substance allowed him to continue on his journey to his desk at E.I. du Pont de Nemours and Company in Wilmington, Delaware as a senior vice president.
By Skyler Saunders5 months ago in Fiction
YNs—Checking the iPhone for Taps. Content Warning.
2012 Large orange men gathered against a wall. Their height appeared to be about seven to eight feet. They waited for the right time to keep going with their plan. What was their plan? They wished to take out any and all drug dealers in Wilmington, Delaware. Their transparency in the light and complete disappearance in the dark provided them with the notion of being stealth.
By Skyler Saunders5 months ago in Fiction