Horror
The Plague that Raided Bragånöss
Bitter with a bite as the weeping winter crept in. Snow shielded the mountains in a blanket of ice and the river ran a darker blue than I have ever seen it. There was a murmuring from the audience as the people of Braganoss waited eagerly for the castration. Alva prepared her knife ready for her moment. She was a woman who laid with the wolves and her hair reflected her feral nature. Everyone fixed their heated gaze as the traitor was shoved and tethered to the wooden stake. His face was badly beaten, and his tribal tattoos had been slashed with dishonour. He was known for preying on young girls, some of which who hadn’t had their first bleed. The predator glared at me and I couldn’t help but hold Freya’s hand tightly. She was eleven and a beautiful target. To my left Salazar crawled out from his hibernation, with his hay-bed hair, dark circles painted around his eyes dragged down to a point on his cheeks. His face was the bow and his eyes were the arrows. Slender body, with a jawline sharp as an axe. His neck was always crooked to an angle. Behind him was Rhydian, aged fifteen he was almost a man with fair blonde hair and hazel brown eyes like mine, there was no denying his was my blood, but his innocent look was a great deception for he had spent the morning practicing his aim with his bow. My husband, the Earl of Bragånöss, was sat on my right side. He nodded in consent to Alva, giving her the signal to begin her performance. She walked to the black and blue face of the predator, whispered so quietly in his ear that I couldn’t make out what had been said. Alva stared at the man directly in the eyes as she went below his hip - pulled down his rags and exposed him to the crowd. Silence had enchanted Bragånöss, with everyone shuffling forward to see the action. Everyone except Freya who covered her eyes and placed her head into my bosom. In a swift straight cut, she removed his genitals and held his jewels high above her head, before throwing them to the stray dogs. Blood spattered across her face as she continued to look at the pain that riddled him. She then licked the fluid off her blade, disgusted at its sourness. My husband smiled and clapped his hands together at the entertainment, as did the rest of the villagers. On top the cheering the man bled and chocked in agony, Alva had stripped him of his masculinity.
By Rosie J. Sargent4 years ago in Fiction
Don't Invite Her In
It was around one am when Samuel returned home to his quiet, and much too empty studio sized apartment. His shift at the bar had run late, and all he could think about was sprinting home in time to catch a few rerun episodes of his favorite show on his beatdown, box TV. It didn’t take much to satisfy Samuel’s after work routine, he was an easy man to understand, with simple needs. At least, this is what he liked to think.
By Kayla Jefferson4 years ago in Fiction
The Soulmate
No matter what I've done to try and forget all about him, I can't seem to get that night out of my mind. Of course I can't. I cared about him. He was my best friend. He was the only person I was able to tell everything to.. he just had that kind of vibe about him.
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet4 years ago in Fiction
Skin Deep
Despite appearing on the cover of just about every glamour magazine in the world by the age of fifteen, Vienna Ritz was not happy with her looks. Her breasts weren’t big enough. Her Bum was too big. Her legs were short, her thighs were fat, she needed a tummy tuck. Her lips were thin, her cheeks were flat, and her nose was too square. The list seemed never ending. She was heiress to a family fortune, so was not without the means to do something about her looks. However, much to her chagrin, until she was eighteen, she could not access her fortune apart from an allowance. That was barely enough to keep her in Gucci and skiing holidays for the year. Nor could she legally undergo enhancement surgery (not cosmetic surgery, that was just sooo tacky^*without her parent’s permission. At least not in this country. She knew because she had researched this.
By Phil Tennant4 years ago in Fiction
Project J
Stacey Hileman Iannazzo Project J 9/9/2021 Janine was embarrassed to be driving the family minivan. It had those stick people stickers on the back window that her mom thought were adorable. Janine wanted to scrape her figure off the window and replace it with a Grateful Dead Bear. Janine would have preferred driving her dad's sporty red Dodge, but even as she pursed her lips to ask permission, her dad was already furrowing his brow and shaking his head back and forth. She grabbed her moms keys with the big dumb ‘Moms Taxi’ keychain and she bolted before they decided she couldn’t borrow the van either. At least, she thought to herself as she drove to pick up Sharon and Kev, at least the stereo worked and she cranked the knob all the way to the right, feeling the bass vibrating in her tailbone.
By S. Hileman Iannazzo4 years ago in Fiction
A Hero’s homecoming!
I’ve awaited a long time for this homecoming, being deployed overseas for the last eight months. My kit was packed, just waiting on the word to go. I re-read the letter that had arrived several months ago. The pages were worn, some torn and stuck together with clear tape. Dirty fingerprints covered the letter, imprinting on the pages. I actually kissed and folded it carefully and stuck it in my shirt pocket.
By Dianne Neal4 years ago in Fiction
Laughter In The Dark
The legend says that the witches of the backwoods were different. They were not like the normal stories of witches that people are accustomed to. They were friends to the towns’ people. They looked to them for guidance when an illness plagued the town. They were healers, and in most cases, the redeeming feature of the town. They had saved the lives of countless children with their natural cures for pneumonia and influenza. They were invited to weddings, and barn dances. They were the life of the party with their unnatural outfits, and hilarious antics.
By Dianah Brock4 years ago in Fiction
Bounty
Bounty by G. L. Payne Jupiter Moody was an eight-ball. Just what kind of eight-ball, Dalton Brindle wasn’t certain, but he was definitely an eight-ball. Jupiter was also a big guy. A really big guy. His girth was functionally spherical and he always wore these bizarre pullover sweaters decorated with horizontal lines of gold, brown, red and orange as though he was trying to embody in human form the living presence of his namesake, the King of Planets. Most folks chalked it up to some sort of benign eccentricity or the man attempting to brand himself with a public persona that had all the gauche panache of a late-night-cable infomercial host. Dalton, frankly, couldn’t have cared less. A bounty was a bounty and Jupiter, whose ranch included over 4000 acres of virgin timberland butting up against the Tahatchapuku National Forest, had the resources to offer a very fat bounty.
By Gary Payne4 years ago in Fiction
Amelia
The year was 1902 in the small town of Adairsville, Georgia. The hot summer sun blazed down upon the residents. There, in the cotton fields, men were working hard to earn the meal being prepared for them by their wives. The children were all doing their usual after school chores to assist their parents. Since the end of slavery, the normal duties of tending to a home fell back onto the shoulders of the farmers. Now, instead of sipping ice cold lemonade, and watching their annual crop being harvested, these men were remembering what it was like to work hard to survive. They wiped the sweat from their brow before picking another bushel. They glanced back in the direction of their cozy homes, longing for the comforting coolness that lay within its doors.
By Dianah Brock4 years ago in Fiction
The Last Room on the Left
One warm Tuesday afternoon, Trisha and Dave Milton, and their daughter Hanna were on the way to their new home out in Ciderville. Story has it that this town generated from the great colony of Derville, in 1666, who are known to be the founders of one of the most famous ciders in all the land. Since, it’s been renamed Ciderville by honoring Jacob Jetton for his famous cider recipe which brought the town great wealth.
By Kaylen Collins4 years ago in Fiction
