Short Story

The Locksmith
The Locksmith The sound of gunfire faded as I pressed my back to the steel brace door. Darkness enveloped me, the blanket of night keeping me safe… for now. The uprising had started quickly and rapidly grown out of control, as was our aim. Yet, I knew it wouldn’t be long until they found me. They always found us eventually.
By Jodi Nicholls5 years ago in Fiction
Only Human
The building trembled lightly as another explosion echoed from the distance, causing the ceiling to cough out dust from between its crevices. Constantly and without fail, the alarm system’s buzz rang over and over again. Its loud persistent sound was rivalled only by the clearly spoken recording of a woman’s voice as it echoed through the room, “Warning, the city has been breached...”.
By J. R. Lowe5 years ago in Fiction
The Evolved Survive, Everything Else Dies.
Dear Diary, today I felt Ice crawl beneath my skin. Sharp pinpricks, melting, burning, a boiling of blue lava that spread uncontrollably.
By Leah Harris5 years ago in Fiction
Hum
Noon. Red coated train cars slowed across the worn metal tracks, pulling into Sapphire station. The world was now operated almost entirely by robots, so there were no human conductors monitoring the train routes. Everything was different for human life after traces of some unknown virus started seeping into things. The animals began acting strange, new portals opened up, and there was even more paranormal activity recorded. Everything was crooked, like a book that was slightly tilted on a shelf.
By K L5 years ago in Fiction
Knife Skills.
I was born with a knife in my hand. I was a big baby, and when the doctor decided I was holding his evening up, he attempted to assist my arrival.
By L5 years ago in Fiction
The Pomegranate
The Panera Bread was on a cross street where a highway met residential back roads. It stood between a Pet Value and Anthony’s Pizza behind a roofed outdoor patio with a mosaic floor, and a fountain that people mistook for a wishing well. College students collected the pennies and nickels after dark, and stood around it after the Panera closed, shrouded in shadows like spirits waiting to cross into the underworld.
By Amanda Marrero5 years ago in Fiction
The Garbage Man
He moves through the barren streets on legs that refuse to give out, feet tapping on the pavement in uneven patterns of one, two, one…..two, onetwoonetwo, one, two. His excitement grows at each passing pile of waste, and he cannot help but be born again every time he finds a dirty old towel.
By Savannah Eve Henley-Rayve5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Optimist
The Man stepped into the ransacked store. Glass shards crunched beneath his worn boots. Like in most places he searched, the windows were all broken. He smelled the air. It was dry. No sickly sweet smell of death, or the distinct stench of animal droppings greeted him. He smiled, reaching into his back pocket and producing a worn leather journal. He drew the pencil safely tucked in its spine.
By Logan Watkins5 years ago in Fiction
The Sun Will End Us
“You can’t prevent the change. So like you can’t prevent the end.” Those were his words, if I remember them right. I know that I remember them right. But some days are worse than the others. I’m afraid that I’ll forget.
By WriterinWonder5 years ago in Fiction
The Dream-Maker
When she awoke that morning, she gazed at the disheartening reflection that was staring back at her in the mirror. A quick and hurried glimpse in the mirror was nothing new, she had done so on most mornings before. But what was unlike any other morning, was that she had noticed how the circles around her eyes had become darker, and how the furrowed lines on her face had become clearer. It was almost as though the grey in her hair had streaked through undetected and appeared overnight, somewhere in between dusk and dawn. She noticed how the frown lines on her forehead were suddenly so deeply ingrained, and how the trenches around her mouth were unexpectedly, yet equally visible.
By Author Alice VL5 years ago in Fiction
Moments Series
It’s hard to describe how telling Landon all about my past makes me feel. I am so relieved to not be keeping anything from him anymore because, in the long run, it would’ve just caused problems between us. Not to mention, it feels like a giant weight is lifted off my shoulders not having to keep it locked inside anymore. He is so sweet and sympathetic to my need to talk, and I can’t even say how happy it makes me to not feel the least bit of pity from him. Keeping this bottled up was killing me. My parent’s knowing the whole story is one thing, they lived most of it with me, but being able to tell it in my own time is very cathartic.
By Jennifer Kent5 years ago in Fiction
For Her Broken Heart
She could hardly pinpoint how they got to where they were. There were no angry words, and there were no moments of uncomfortable or awkward silences. There were no mysterious late nights, and there was no tell-tale lipstick on his collar, or hidden love letters in his pockets. Yet, there they were, carrying boxes down the hall and out to his truck, while carefully loading them one by one. There was nothing much to say about anything. There was nothing at all to understand where it all went wrong, and how it all began.
By Author Alice VL5 years ago in Fiction