Alex Wolf

Joined June 2021

12 stories

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Stories (12)

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Footprints in the Dust
Nighttime was when I felt most alive. When the moonlight shone through the windows and a soft breeze would stir up glittering dust motes to dance in the silvery brilliance. The tiny pads of mouse feet tickled the floor boards, the quiet tapping of their claws against wood reverberating through me.
By Alex Wolf2 months ago in Fiction
The Interrogation
The clock ticked on the wall. It marked the minutes of silence as they slipped by. The detective stared at me, waiting. It felt cold in the room, just enough to be uncomfortable, though I could feel the sweat pricking beneath my skin.
By Alex Wolfabout a year ago in Criminal
Beneath the Surface
The boat rocked below me as we huddled together. I could feel the warmth seeping from me. It was dark, and cold, and lonely out here.
By Alex Wolfabout a year ago in Fiction
The Cave of Souls
Ansel knew the moment he looked down upon his thirteenth child’s face, that he would need help. The boy’s eyes were brown as the freshly tilled soil, deep as an endless pit, and silent as a grave. The boy had come screaming into the world in a pool of his mother’s blood, his tiny face turning red as he sucked the pain of life into his lungs with his first breath. As he held the boy in his arms, he decided that he would find a godfather for the boy.
By Alex Wolf2 years ago in Fiction
Lane One
I yawned, my breath tightening in my chest as nerves zinged through me. I could feel the adrenaline spreading through my body, almost like pins and needles. I took another breath, blowing it out slowly. I watched the water lapping at the edges of the pool. Glanced at the crowd, my competition.
By Alex Wolf3 years ago in Journal
Fractured Shards
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. It rested against the wall in the darkest corner of the antiques store my mother had dragged me into that morning. We’d been in here for hours, my mother scouring the place for anything she might be able to resell for a higher price. I stared into the mirror, watching the boy staring back. He looked like me, but…off somehow. The room in the background was different too. It looked like it might have been a hospital once.
By Alex Wolf3 years ago in Fiction
The Box Creature
The smell of green tea filled the kitchen in Akilah’s small apartment constantly. It was something that she was known for. When she had the rare visitor, they would always comment on the pleasant smell as it drifted through the apartment. She hummed a strange little tune she couldn’t remember learning as she poured herself a large mug of green tea to start off her morning. It was her ritual. Wake up, turn on the kettle – which was the only thing she’d ever spent more money on than she’d needed to, wash last night's dishes, eat breakfast, then settle into her reading nook for ten minutes while she drank her first cup of tea for the day. Then she would settle in for a day’s work from home, working in at companies being a thing of the distant past.
By Alex Wolf3 years ago in Fiction
Under the Mountain
Piercing cries cut through the blanket of silence as the dragon crept through the darkened forest. A light snow had begun to fall in peaceful drifts, bringing with it the first smells of winter; hearth fires and damp wood. For a few moments, the forest grew silent, and the dragon stopped to listen, then, another faint, needy shriek. Further into the forest it went. Night had begun to fall early that day, and cold had swept through the trees, frosting over the leaves and branches, hardening the water to which they desperately clung. It had been a few hours since the beginning of the fall, but already the night had settled in the sky, millions of stars burning in the distance, the scattered embers of a dying fire.
By Alex Wolf3 years ago in Fiction
The Theatre of Life
The sound of a heartbeat woke me up. I opened my eyes to searing light coming through the window, and a gentle rocking pulling me back towards beckoning sleep. My vision was blurry, like I’d been asleep for a long time. I checked my watch. 4:00pm. I searched my mind. Nothing. I couldn’t recall when I went to sleep. I moved my gaze to the window to see the world rushing by in streams of colour; vibrant greens and pale blue shot past me, almost too fast for my eyes to follow. Not a heartbeat that awoke me, I realised. No one was around me to have provided the heartbeat. The sound of a train, chuffing along at an alarming rate. A train I was sitting on, slumped in the corner against the window. And one that didn’t seem as though it was stopping any time soon.
By Alex Wolf3 years ago in Fiction
The Withered Hand
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. A solitary, shrivelled hand extended into the light, the skin translucent as the hand reached towards the light, a candle snuffer dangly from its spindly fingers. The light went out, darkness encasing the trees again.
By Alex Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
The Shadow Wolf
I lean against the statue, the cold of the metal seeping through the thin, rough material of my top. I check my watch, scowling. They’re late. Probably sniffing out the area. Something they should have done hours ago, when it was still light. For the hounds of the city, they’re not the smartest people I’ve ever encountered. I feel my muscles tense as three shadows detach themselves from the rest of the darkness. I force myself to relax. I’m in a place I know well, somewhere I can escape from with ease if need be. I push off from the statue as the shadows step into the light. The men wear various items of poorly matched black clothing and masks you’d expect to see at a masquerade ball. One is a bear, another a lion, and the last, the leader, I assume, wears a simple, but effective rendering of a blackbird. The leader cocks his head like the bird he depicts. It throws me for a second as I see not just a man standing in front of me, but a combination of a bird and a man in the same person. The others prowl around, unable to stand still. I watch them.
By Alex Wolf5 years ago in Fiction
The World After
Buildings crumbled around Lyra as she flitted between them, scrounging for scraps of metal and junk she could bring back to the scrap yard. Her rucksack was nearly full, and it was almost curfew. It had been three years since the fall of the empire, when people all over the world succumbed to a disease that had spread like wildfire, ravaging all in its path. It hadn’t been so much the initial illness that killed, but the lasting effects of it. A build-up of gunk in the lungs that its prey would inevitably fall victim to.
By Alex Wolf5 years ago in Fiction