Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Temptest
Clouds darkened in the sky, to any appearances constructing themselves for a storm. Particularly cruel: the sort of storm Mother Nature would brew when ire. A heavy rain cried from the ruinous clouds, crashing to the ground not undifferentiated from hot tears. These were Mother Nature's tears for the slaughter of innocent souls by ghastly creatures corrupted by sin. This type of storm sent stagnation to the region; incense whose smell you could not escape, even if the soil were to fully engorge and dissolve it. It flowed and corrupted the citizen's slants, infecting the area like an unavoidable illness. The heat of the rain was the water's disguise, the kind of rain little children did not wish to dance and splash in. The kind of rain that makes people stay indoors. The kind of rain that makes everything in the world somber.
By Luna Phillips5 years ago in Fiction
Hate'n Those
I have no hate in my heart for them. Those that don’t look like me. I’d be lying if I said it was easy though. Most of the others do, and I can’t say I blame them. It’s just that I was lucky enough to be able to glance at a history book before they were all destroyed by the Bloods. I’ve yet to come across another soul that has even seen a book, let alone read one. The book I saw had a five hundred year old quote from a man who was a powerful king in the old world. I believe his name was Martan Lugger or something. He said that a person should be judged not by his appearance but the content of his character. I really love that quote. The book said he was a black man. I omit that fact whenever I tell any of the others about him. I used to tell them, but they would always get angry at me. One fella was so upset about it that he launched at me in a rage. It would have been a merciless battle too had not a few of the others intervened. Needless to say, after that encounter, the king was always of european descent. It’s not that I was incapable of handling my own. It’s just when you’re held up at one of these camps, you need to conserve every single ounce of energy you have.
By Larry Gunter5 years ago in Fiction
The Arrival of the Red-Haired Girl
The Arrival of the Red-Haired Girl Seth swung his axe downward with a mighty thrust, cleaving the log in two. It was early morning. A fresh snowfall laid silent on the forest floor and in the frosted pines around him. He stopped to catch his visible breath and take in the view of the great valley below. All the world seemed still. Peaceful.
By Joseph Knob5 years ago in Fiction
North
Mia had lived here for as long as she could remember. Existence rested on a delicate precipice and survival through each night was never guaranteed. Snow and ice bits sliced through her fragile skin as she stared out into the dimly illuminated darkness. Torches were lined along walkways, carved by the legs of various workers. This place was horrid, even after over a decade but Mia hardly remembered the times before this life. People came, and they went, usually by death, sometimes by banishment. If you didn’t pull your weight, you weren’t worth cultivated resources that others perished to retrieve.
By Jacqueline Wilson5 years ago in Fiction
The Diary of [REDACTED]
18th of May 2047 I was almost caught! I sneaked out last night to try and scrounge up whatever food I could find in this God-forsaken town. As I was walking, I became aware that I had eyes on me. I led my admirer around in a useless circle of lefts and rights before finally ditching them and returning here. I will do some recon before I go to leave tonight. Unfortunately, I have no choice but pass by where I went last night.
By John Thomas5 years ago in Fiction
Marla Medizza and the Miopsa mirror. Chapters twenty-three, twenty-four, and twenty-five.
Chapter twenty-three Fraught futures The lady turns around to face her. She is old, her face lined. But her eyes are the ones Marla knows. They are the eyes of her younger sister.
By Peter Culbert5 years ago in Fiction
