Horror
The RedLight End
Waking up from my stomach growls, I begin to panic from the loud sound coming from outside of the window. I scramble, looking for my locket. This locket is unique to me, heart-shaped with an engraving that says “I will always love you” The special locket is a gift from my mom, who received it from her mom. It’s the only thing I have left in this horrible place.
By Trina Bailey5 years ago in Fiction
Tainted
CRASH! A loud glass-breaking noise erupts from the second floor. I’m not up there, and no one else but my younger sixteen-year-old sister is here. We've been alone since the Tainted started to appear and drag people to their graves only to have them resurface as the Bleached.
By Bella Anne5 years ago in Fiction
Number 50
Forty-nine. Forty-nine tallies etched like splintered veins into the sturdy oak headboard he once shared. Forty-nine less monsters terrorizing the town he called home. Forty-nine more reasons to keep fighting, to keep searching. He would carve out every inch of that headboard if it meant finding his family—his wife, his son.
By D.M. Roseen5 years ago in Fiction
Liminal
I found it at a bus stop. Waiting for the 8:15 from downtown to the Park’s Ridge neighborhood so I could walk thirty minutes home. There was plenty of people around me and even though it was dark the bus stop’s lights made is safely bright. It was, like a crack in a door, between a tall trashcan and Coke machine. It wasn’t much brighter than the place around it but it was just bright enough to make this strange thin rectangle stand out of place with the rest of the environment.
By Arthur E Nickles5 years ago in Fiction
The Inquisitor
Dust fell as the clock creaked its steady symphony. Tick… tock… Round and round the hands went playing their roles for an audience that had long since departed. No encore would be played when the performance ends. Each tick rattles the frame imperceptibly causing the wood to shudder and creak. Each creak shouts to the world "I am alive" but the world isn't listening. Instead the only purpose of this once proud device is to wind down its life and to harbour within its workings a locket.
By Jacob Alistaire McCrone5 years ago in Fiction
The Wisdom of Men
I’ve never known the world the way it is in books. What was it like when so few people died that they had celebrations and buried them in the ground? Did they just dig a big hole and shove ‘em in there? As the oldest man alive, I know my turn is coming soon. I’ll be another bag of bones rotting wherever I perish. But at twelve years old, I wish I had as much of a chance as the dead did before my time. As far as I know, it’s just me and my little brother. My mom left a week ago and we haven’t seen her since. She told me the story of the end of organized civilization often, so I’d always be alert to danger.
By Brandy Enn5 years ago in Fiction
Life as we know it
The afternoon was hot, her forehead felt damp, unsure if it was from her overheating body or the outside rays of the hot sunlight that beat more and more neutrinos into her body. But she was grateful for the heat, the uncomfortable feelings of barely there nausea in her belly where the slightly stale veggies stirred, they were only a few days old. Just enough to make them edible but also just enough to sit uneasily to cause discomfort
By Elaine Spark5 years ago in Fiction
Monica
The locket isn’t bleeding tonight. That can’t be good. It belonged to a friend of my sister. She died for the second time nine days ago. A simple, brass, heart-shaped thing that measured life from one cheap chain to another over its eleven-year run around the neck of Abigail Rossi. She was a nice girl, abrasive at times, but pleasant once the emotional walls lowered. After she died, the locket transferred in ownership to my sister. And, when Izzy found the whole thing a little too odd, it passed to me. Well, technically, it passed from Izzy to my mother to the garbage can and finally to me. It felt wrong leaving it in a dumpster.
By Benjamin Ford5 years ago in Fiction
