Horror
What Remains
“The marriage of reason and nightmare.” — J. G. Ballard The sun pierced through the gaps in the bamboo blinds across our bedroom window. Though I was already on the precipice between the waking and the sleeping world, I allowed myself the leisured pleasure of basking in the quiet contemplation that came only from lying alongside the slight but warm curves of my dear Marguerite.
By Paul Stewart14 days ago in Fiction
Ballet of the Butcher Star
The air backstage at the Grand Theatre was a palpable entity, thick with the ghosts of a thousand performances. It clung to Elara’s skin like the faint, sweet-sour scent of sweat and rosin, a perfume she wore more constantly than any designer fragrance. This was not merely her workplace; it was her sanctuary, her confessional, and increasingly, her cage. The polished oak floorboards, worn smooth by the endless procession of pointe shoes, reflected the dim, amber glow of the utilitarian work lights, transforming the labyrinthine corridors into a gilded, echoing maw. Velvet drapes, once a vibrant crimson, now sagged like weary eyelids, their nap worn thin by the caress of countless hands, each touch leaving an infinitesimal residue of longing, of aspiration, of despair.
By LaRae Pynas14 days ago in Fiction
The Last Glitch Walker
Ethan Ward had always been a geek—proudly, unapologetically, and fiercely. While other kids in his Birmingham neighborhood played football in the streets, Ethan was inside building his first computer from scrap parts his uncle gave him. By the time he turned twenty-five, he had a full-time remote job, three monitors on his desk, a collection of retro consoles, and a habit of drinking more energy drinks than water. His friends joked that he lived more online than in reality. And they were mostly right.
By Iazaz hussain15 days ago in Fiction
Pernicious With A Purpose
“Olawdry, are you coming to bed yet?” Mairlz called from the bedroom. Olawdry was staring at himself in the mirror pulling down the bags underneath his red eyes. “Yes, sweetie. I’m coming.” He responded tiresome. He hit the light switch, shut the door behind him, and walked over to his side of bed where he could see the moonlight outside the window.
By Devond Devoe16 days ago in Fiction
