Horror
Do The Right Thing
Things in her life were going wrong. Her air conditioning broke. When the landlord fixed it, the air conditioner broke again. When the landlord replaced the air conditioner, and the new unit broke, he told her she would need to live with it for a while until he figured it out. Something must be wrong with the power of the unit. Tasha hated being hot, but here she was, dripping sweat. She had a bit of a headache. The voice in her head was louder: “Do the right thing.”
By Toni Crowe5 years ago in Fiction
Red Streaks
Three men are sitting at a table. It’s a gloomy night, threads of lightning are shooting across the sky through the clouds and connecting like spiderwebs, but there is not thunderclap that follows. Instead, the silence lingers like a bad taste in someone’s mouth. The man on the southern end of the table would compare it to dead fish, a commodity where he comes from, yet he doesn’t understand why the hell that is. It’s a place that makes people look at him in the same way somebody would look at a middle-eastern man who runs a convenience store, like they’re all the same and the TV shows they’d gallivant around once their small tinfoil TV dinners were placed out were as accurate as William Tell. Dumb grins on their faces, ignorant to what people like the southern man really were. There’d be no point in arguing, even with the other two men on opposing sides of the wicker/pine table, a single .45 in the middle, picking up as much of the lightning as it wants, and shooting it back to them like a gun is supposed to do. Light flashes, and then it doesn’t.
By Madonna Jinx Fitzroy Major5 years ago in Fiction
Arachnophobia
There was a spider in the bath. Her eyes were drawn to it as she pushed the door open, the giant black mass of its hairy body contrasting sickeningly with the white porcelain of the bathtub. As it scuttled across the bath, Melissa imagined she could hear its legs hitting the bottom. Her eyes suddenly seemed ten times more powerful than normal, picking up every hair on the creature’s legs. Suppressing a shudder, she crept towards the bath, clutching the glass she kept by the sink in a trembling hand. Terrified to go nearer the damn thing than was necessary, Melissa dropped the glass, hoping against hope that it would land on top of the spider and trap it there, but, of course, no-one is ever that lucky.
By Emily Taafe5 years ago in Fiction
Breaking The Ice
Breaking The Ice Nina didn’t like new things. She didn’t like new places. In fact, she barricaded herself in her room when she was told she would have to leave all of her friends, her school, everything she’d ever known, behind. It came as a surprise over dinner, her mom explaining how she’d gotten this “big promotion”.
By John Staudt5 years ago in Fiction
Mother's Secret Chocolate Cake
Eugene's mother made the best chocolate cake in town. She never shared her secret to what made her cake so amazingly moist, and delicious. People of the town would ask her weekly to have one made for their families to enjoy throughout the week or for celebrations. Eugene was always right by his mother's side to help with her creations of chocolate cake. But was never allowed to have any. "Chocolate is not good for you Eugene", his mother would always tell him.
By Kayla Lynn Waksmonski5 years ago in Fiction
COLOSSUS
The train silently zoomed out of an icy tunnel like a bullet. Onboard was a squad of troops. This was no ordinary train, but a transporter train, and it was carrying a special cargo codenamed C.O.L.O.S.S.U.S, designed for a purpose known only to certain people in higher positions as its top secret. In the passenger aisle, Samuel Kris brought a cup of coffee to a rather bored Riley Winter.
By Michael Hawkins5 years ago in Fiction
Death, hate and chocolate cake
Arrogant and somewhat imposing he just stood there in the hallway. Acting like this was his house. No respect for me. No respect for my home. His hair was medium in length and unwashed, dressed in nothing but boxer shorts and a T-shirt. I couldn't bear to talk to him. Not now, not ever. It was the way he manipulated things. No, it was his smug fucking smile that made me want to kill him .....
By Charlie Smith5 years ago in Fiction
