thriller
Dragon Tree
Sicily | 1943 Her molars ached from the decadent layers of chocolate, hazelnut, and caramel. Unraveling her third napkin, she used the soft, white cloth to wipe away the excess sugar from her lips. Washing down the croissant with a cappuccino, and a tall glass of ice water, she paid for two more croissants and two cappuccinos to go, then exited the American occupied cafe.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
Suckerpunch. Content Warning.
Nothing says dead better than a hole through your stomach. Inspector Abina “Abby” Muller knelt over the corpse. The victim was no older than twenty four, laid neatly on a sofa at the Cherry Hill motel. She had silver blonde hair just like hers, and most of her body had gone gray.
By J D Guzman2 years ago in Fiction
Levels
My feet grip the snow beneath them for only a moment before reaching untouched snow again. The air has its icy hands clasped around me, pulling me back as I try to spring forward. I trip and my knees feel the cushion of the cold snowy blanket beneath me. When fear kicks in, you think there is nothing more powerful, until the light in the distance taunts you with hope, and then you feel what real power is.
By Lucille Hamilton2 years ago in Fiction
Time Loop
In the bustling heart of the city, Dr. Nathan Carter, a brilliant physicist, stood before his invention—a sleek, metallic device pulsating with ethereal energy. It was his greatest creation: a time-traveling machine capable of bending the very fabric of reality. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he activated the device, his hands trembling with anticipation.
By Syed Shahmeer2 years ago in Fiction
Telltale crimson trail. Top Story - February 2024. Content Warning.
I'd seen gray snow, I'd seen brown, mushy snow on the highway. I'd seen yellow snow too, but this was the first time I had seen pink snow. The sight of it turned my stomach. The crimson stain had grown into a shadow, an outline, like an island. The spatter from the blow had left a telltale bloody trail leading away from the gaping wound in the victim's head.
By Raymond G. Taylor2 years ago in Fiction
Snowblood
The skin of his palm caught and slit open on the jagged knot of barbed wire strung between the fenceposts. Foggy breath billowed sharply from his instinctive gasp at the sight of his injury, but not the feeling, for the biting cold had numbed his hands too much for the pain to hit. A faint dribble of crimson droplets trickled down from the thorny metal onto the snow-smothered earth, this trace of him left to coagulate and swiftly freeze, while he limped ahead through the barren farmland, dragging his hobbled right leg with its distended swollen knee, throbbing like a wailing siren of agony only he could hear, through the seemingly endless onslaught of snow.
By Jack Anderson Keane2 years ago in Fiction
"The Unbroken Vow: A Love Story Beyond Time"
In a small village nestled among rolling hills, there lived a young couple named Anna and Thomas. Their love was the talk of the town, the kind that seemed to glow in their eyes whenever they looked at each other. But as fate would have it, Thomas was called to serve in the army, leaving Anna behind with a promise to return.
By d jojo gent2 years ago in Fiction
Drex Nile
An extremely long time ago, in a galaxy tremendously far away from ours... Fifteen years ago, while Drex was a young, thieving pilot, desperately trying to make a living for himself on the planetary city-system of Coruscant, he found his hands soaked in blood.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
The Vanishing Act
Harry Houdini, the name synonymous with escape and defying the impossible, vanished not on stage, but from his own locked apartment. It was 1926, and the world's greatest illusionist simply...poof...gone. Decades later, the mystery lives on, a thrilling enigma begging for answers.
By Robert Brown2 years ago in Fiction
These Green Eyes Don't Cry. Content Warning.
If you're reading this, I need you to help me. They've shut me in here and I can't get out. I've got to get out. I have to find him. I love him. And he loves me. I think. His friends love me, too. I think. They all did. A few times.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
