Short Story
Vision of Amaya. Content Warning.
Amaya woke suddenly, the ice cold grip of early morning air ripping her out of a nightmare. All was quiet. The sun had not yet bathed the hills in its light. The birds were silent, waiting for the sunlight to reach across the world and warm their feathers. Dawn was still a couple hours away.
By Madison "Maddy" Newtonabout 3 hours ago in Fiction
“The Girl Who Broke Willowford”
It's currently the summer of 1955 my name is James Hale, I live in the small town of Willowford. I work at my local diner, taking the same customers every day, receiving the same meals and life is good. It feels like every week repeats but nobody questions it, that's just how life is in Willowford. There’s a comfort to the routine, a rhythm to the days that never changes. People wave the same way, smile the same way, live the same way. Maybe that’s why I’ve never questioned it — Willowford feels safe, even when it feels strange.
By Christian Sanchezabout 3 hours ago in Fiction
Past Lives. Content Warning.
War made for odd couples. To Private Jim Mclellan, Sepp seemed a good man; better at least than some of the monsters he heard stories of deeper into the Reich. Real monsters. This Sepp almost reminded Jim of his uncle; the one from Wisconsin he met a few times at Weddings.
By Matthew J. Frommabout 4 hours ago in Fiction
A Dance at Midnight
By Royal Decree every seventy years to celebrate the aligning of the planets there was to be a grand festival; this festival was free and open to all: young and old, rich and poor, healthy and ill, and people of all races. While the festival itself was only one day, creatures came from all over the Quadrants for the event, so the local shopkeeps displayed their best and most colourful wares and offered special deals for days before. The inns and food vendors offered live music for their patrons and a wide variety of local and foreign foods were cooked, their aromas mixing in the streets. Throughout the city there were private parties for three days leading to the festival and for the next day after.
By Dionearia Redabout 6 hours ago in Fiction
Mirror on the Wall
GillVille Drive was a quiet neighbourhood with recently paved roads, manicured lawns, a playground and soccer field, and houses much too large and extravagant for the average person to afford. Some houses had two garages, third floor balconies, backyard ponds, and one even had solar lights in the shape of owls and pinecones lining the walkway to its massive oak front door. This such house was the left half of a duplex. The other half was unoccupied, but balloons of yellow, white, and blue brushed against each other softly in the wind. On each balloon was written the words “open house” with too many exclamation marks. The balloons looked cheap and informal. They stood out for that reason. Two of the yellow ones had already popped. They dangled limply on their string.
By Gillian Corsiattoabout 15 hours ago in Fiction
Field of the Fallen
Sunlight danced softly across the frost-crusted fields, making the little blades of grass sparkle like emeralds. The faraway chirrup of a songbird was the only disruption to the quiet of the morning. An icy chill, the last vestige of the dying winter, clung to the air, settling in a thick white mist at the far side of the open field. The heavy stench of decay hung in that mist, punctuation by the sharp tang of freshly spilled blood.
By A. J. Schoenfeldabout 17 hours ago in Fiction
The Throne Room
The smoke hung heavy in the air, overtaking the sweet and savory smells that permeated the festival. The wooden poles that held the steel grates over the roaring flames were overturned, and the meats were ravaged by the beasts that hunted with the red-eyed shifter.
By KA Stefana about 18 hours ago in Fiction
