Mystery

Countdown
A young man around the age of 18 groaned, finding himself lying face up and looking at the cracked ceiling. His vision blurred in and out, and he blinked his blue eyes in order to make it clearer. He took a glance at his legs to see two concrete slabs covering them in the shape of a teepee, leaving just enough space in the gap for his legs to be squeezed underneath, long cutting off the circulation. He groaned and felt around for something to pry the large slabs so he could have room to move his legs...He found a large pipe and propped it up, beginning to slide out with difficulty, he braced his abdominal muscles together in efforts to help his process. Inch by inch the young man slowly slid his lower legs out and let out a huge sigh at the effort, laying back on the ground to catch his breath. He shuddered slightly at the tingling sensation in his lower legs, wondering how long they had been like that. He leaned with his head back, closing his eyes before gathering his thoughts.
By Morgan T5 years ago in Fiction
The Weather Engineer
The rain had been pouring down for the past four hours, pounding and vibrating against the metal ceiling of the lab, the noise as deafening as nails on a chalkboard. She couldn't focus, so she decided to pack up and do it at the hotel, hoping it would be much quieter there.
By Nora Alvarez5 years ago in Fiction
The End of Sunset
All my life I thought I’d grow up to be a well respected lawyer. I did not see this day coming. My family vanished and humanity became nothing but a numb creature to devour everything in its way. We are beyond caveman ways now, we are surrounded by a smart and deceitful breed of humans that evolved under this new world pandemic called the zombie virus. My name is Ursula. I am writing in my diary today to help make sense of this present which will soon be known as history in hopes of the future finding out what happened to those who denied abiding and why we look like the terrorists. The zombie virus was nothing like the movies. Metaphorically it is reasoned to be known as that because people lose their senses. They mentally are confused, unaware of their existence. Nobody knows how it started other than it being on a Fourth of July. I was with my family camping out in Delta woods. The most secluded area you could find. There were only about 4 other families that were there with us. My son and daughter were playing by the river when we heard fireworks. Then in the blink of an eye, my husband disappeared and my children too. I thought I was hallucinating however it was clear they were taken. I started to feel fuzzy and unable to comprehend the nature of the environment I was in. I was losing it. I did not know who I was anymore. That is what actually helped me cope with my family’s vanishing. I smelled smoke coming from the river but I locked the doors to the cabin and shut the windows. I drank a lot of water. I was determined to stop feeling drugged. My mind could not find peace. I was surrounded by turmoil of the mind that is. I passed out in the bathtub. The next morning I woke up to the news.
By S.Cruz5 years ago in Fiction
Venomous
The rain fell hard as everything around the city began to burn down to the ground, fighting to put out the fire. People running for cover as the military soldiers came marching in one by one, throwing gas bombs in every direction toward the masses, using gas masks to protect themselves from getting knocked out or even killed with the noxious gas. Pulling my hood over my head, I followed them in the darkness of the shadows, snatching a stray gas mask left behind on the ground.
By Adrian Edwards5 years ago in Fiction
The Final Generation
I opened my eyes and the blue lights flowing down from the ceiling were blinding. I had to rapidly blink several times to be able to keep them open. I realized I was strapped to the bed so tightly; it would be impossible to escape. The white rooms made my heart beat faster in my chest, and the cold air was freezing. I wondered how I survived in this cold room. I recognized Henry with his old beat-up framed glasses lying to my left, and Arthur on my right. Earlier today I spotted them as I was walking towards my class, that’s the last thing I remembered. There were no monitors in the room keeping track of their heart rate, I had no idea if they were alive or not. I quietly said their names, and then raised my voice as loud as I could, having difficulty with the low amounts of air in my lungs. I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down. I was two years older than my friends. I had to come up with a solution fast before someone came to check up on us. A window with blue curtains was an escape route I considered. I would rather break a bone or two than be stuck here. The sound of heels was echoing in the hallway, I kept my eyelids closed shut. As they were continuing, a soft hum was audibly happening at the same time.
By The Lady in White 5 years ago in Fiction
Fenced In
He came up slowly from sleep, for a moment reasonably comfortable and warm. As consciousness returned, the aches began to set in. Resigning himself to wakefulness, he opened his eyes and saw the familiar tin roof overhead. His feet left the covers and met the rough planks of the floor as he rose slowly from his bed with a groan and began to shuffle towards the washbasin.
By Matthew Shearer5 years ago in Fiction
The Day America Died
My parents and I were living in Albuquerque New Mexico living the good life or should I save average would be more accurate we had what we needed but we were in no way wealthy but were not poor either.
By Kaylee A Macmillan5 years ago in Fiction
Ever Kept
The metal is cold in my hands. The place in my chest where a heart beats is colder. Do I still have a heart? I have the locket. It's in the shape of a heart. I scoot a bit closer to the fire, squinting at the spear of light reflecting off the locket's polished gold surface. I start to open it, but my eyes cloud. I don't want to see what's inside. I want to see who is inside. I want them here, and seeing the pathetically small picture inside the locket will only serve to remind me that they aren't. In a fit, I yank it away from my neck, snapping the golden chain. I squeeze it so tightly, my knuckles turn white. I can't take it any longer. I flip the locket open, and pull it so close to my face that the glass fogs up from my breath.
By Emmet Mathieu5 years ago in Fiction
The Secret
In the midst of a dust storm of what was once known as America's heartland where rolling hills of green fresh growing things and noisy animals once called home I found myself lost. The world had changed around me from the time I was made and many things had come and gone much like the people who claimed me as their property.
By Elizabeth Music5 years ago in Fiction
Fruitless Tree
She's just sitting there on the edge of the doctor bed, staring into no where with confusion. The nurse knocks on the door of the exam room and says, "Are you ok?". She says yes as she clears her throat, she begins to slide off the exam table as the sanitary paper they rolled across it slides off with her. The plastic table/bed made her thighs sweat a little being against her bare skin and the paper that was between her and the table had to be pealed away. The doctor had just gave Jocelynn the news, she was going to lose this baby as well. It was looking like she was never going to have a baby, this was her 4th miscarriage. She wanted a baby so badly, she couldn't give up. As she's getting dressed she over hears the doctor and the nurse talking, the doctor says to the nurse what sounded like, "wow another one". Jocelynn immediately thinks they are referring to her miscarriages until, the nurse replies, "sixth one this week". She must have just heard the nurse wrong, she was kind of lost at the moment, each miscarriage broke her spirit a little more, she was thirty-three years old and wasn't getting any younger. It didn't make any sense, her menstrual cycle was normal until three years ago. Did this have something to do with her not being able to have a baby? She wondered to herself on her way to the car walking as if she was in a tunnel, not really hearing anything but her own thoughts. She gripped the heart shaped silver locket she was wearing around her neck. It had a picture of her twin sister on one side and herself on the other. Their mother wore it when she was alive, she had died from a virus. In her thoughts was her father saying, "You're just a tree that can't bare fruit, you're still a beautiful tree". It didn't help, his stupid sayings didn't help and she didn't understand, she just wanted her mom she thought as she sat in the car crying out loud in the driver seat. She closed her eyes tight and tried to picture the sunflower high chair she painted and told herself, "It will happen, I will have a beautiful baby one day. Little did anyone know this was the beginning of a new era. Things were changing fast, the normal life Jocelynn wanted back so badly ceased to exist now.
By Martha Wiles5 years ago in Fiction
Subtext
My Sweet Doe Kjyka, I’m a dentist, ok?! That’s many years of college. Many dollars out of pocket, ya hear me?? I’ve spent too many days hunched over the mouths of people who stuff ‘em full of disease so they can feel like they have the cure to the sickness of dying since birth. Lemme tell ya: the American Dream Option is a fricken joke. I hate my job but I love what I do, mien Reh (sigh)…
By Isaiah Black 5 years ago in Fiction
The Cabin
On August 4th 1995 at The Cabin on Adelaide Road, Patrick Parker and his wife Joana Parker met for the first time. The lively corner bar was loud yet quiet enough to have a conversation. The light were bright yet dim enough to conceal any blemishes.
By Henry Windle5 years ago in Fiction