Horror
For Riley
I love my little sister. Riley is innocent, caring, and the smartest seven year old girl I ever knew. Then again, I’m only thirteen and don’t have many friends that are my sister’s age. My older brother, Ryan, is a junior in high school and always pretends to be too cool to hang out with his middle school brother or kindergarten aged sister. The only time that he’s willing to spend time with us, or at least be in each other’s presence, is when all of us go to our old family barn once a month and his girlfriend, Eileen, gets to tag along. I don’t mind her though because she sometimes brings us cookies from the shop she worked at in the mall. "Here's your box of cookies, Corey!" She would hand over and I would gladly take.
By Daniel Silva5 years ago in Fiction
BLUE KIA SOUL
Life is simple. Complicated, is an excuse people use to pretend like they know what the hell they're talking about. "You wouldn't understand, it's complicated." They say. Well I beg to differ. You see, unlike most I came from nothing. I don't mean mommy-and-daddy-can't-afford-the-next-gen-console version of nothing. I came from literal nothing, as in must-be-nice-to-have-a-ceiling-during-the-winter nothing. One phrase that I would hear over and over again is that "money can't buy happiness". Well, you know what can buy happiness? Plumbing, hot water and a working stove. In some countries these are called utilities. Do you know what buys utilities? Money. Some would argue that it's more complicated than that, however I would avoid arguing with an idiot. I went from nothing to something, chaos to order, anger to happiness. Until the year of 2022.
By Carpe Breeze5 years ago in Fiction
See You Soon
If you’re reading this, I’m dead. Kicked the bucket, bought the farm. Go ahead and lay a couple of big old silver dollars over my eyes, ‘cause I ain’t coming back. I had a good life and I ain’t complaining, I’m telling you so you can prepare yourself for what’s to come.
By Miller Atlas5 years ago in Fiction
The Old Chancey Barn
“Have you heard? They say someone moved into the old Chancey house. Seen a lot of odd lights down by the old barn.” Hanging around the corner diner in Monroe, the old timers of the town spent their day discussing events of interest. In such a small town, such events were rare, and often times a topic of interest long outlived the amount of attention it deserved. When Frank brought up this newest topic, in the midst of a repeat discussion of the lack of good fishing places since the power plant upstream started up, no one had any real objections, as it was indeed time for something new.
By Travis Pittman5 years ago in Fiction
The Agreement
The Laramie barn had been at the edge of the small town of Spruce Hill since the earliest days of its founding. The ancient building was the first thing to be seen when drivers crested the steep hill leading into town. Its weathered sides were bleached a silvery gray and creeping vines had worked their way up into the open loft. The doors had long since fallen away and a portion of the roof had collapsed. In its decades of disrepair the barn had come to acquire a legendary status among the children of Spruce Hill. Like so many old buildings spoken of only in whispers, the Laramie barn was rumored to harbor ghosts.
By Christine Nelson5 years ago in Fiction
It Lives in the Barn
The wind blew softly that morning, bringing with it an icy gloom that swallowed the sun and threatened rain. The chill was bitter, piercing, and made a person long for the warmth of Summer. But, there was no warmth here, only cold. It was a miserable Autumn day.
By Nicholas Thompson5 years ago in Fiction
Shadows
He looked at his watch, 2:13 A.M. Morton calculated; 73 hours and 27 minutes; 1 hour, and 27 minutes past the 72 hour time clock that started when the station first received the call. He watched as the second hand made laps around infinity, the progression of time relative to the circumstances, it was moving at a rapid pace. And taking with it the likelihood of finding her.
By Brandon Boyer5 years ago in Fiction
Unaware
Alistair slipped through the woods silently, his long dark coat and worn boots concealing him from his quarry. He had been tracking his target for weeks and now he was closing in on it. He crested a hill and took in his surroundings. A break in the trees revealed the ruins of a homestead spread amongst the open glen. A brief glimpse of a shadow as it moves into an old barn, the only complete structure still standing caught his eye in the late afternoon light. His prey would be more dangerous during the night, if he hurried, he could catch it before the sun set.
By Roland Durendal5 years ago in Fiction
Kinfolk
Dogs! The barking and snapping and growling was unmistakable. Even at a distance. Blood thirsty meat eaters trained to hunt men. But how far off were they? By the echo, sounded like at least a mile up river. Had they caught his scent? His sweat. If so he was a deadman for sure. He hoped one of the dogs would have mercy on him and rip out his throat. Leave him to bleed out in the swamp. Gatorbait. Anything would be better than that goddamn cell.
By Michael Fry5 years ago in Fiction
The Raising
Heave! Heave! Muscle and sinew strained as the ropes tightened and the final section of the new barn was borne aloft. A collective sigh of relief was uttered as the lead carpenters hammered in their pegs and the weight was released from the overburdened shoulders of those lifting below. It had been a morning of hard, unrelenting labour and the workmen were looking forward to the bean-feast that had been prepared for them by their womenfolk. The rope bearers meandered across to a laden table; slowly to allow the carpenters a chance to catch up. It took all of my self restraint to match their pace. I was ravenous from the morning’s exertions but also keen to rejoin Rachael, my reason for being here.
By Stephen Wyatt5 years ago in Fiction
