Eric Boring
Bio
I love to write and dream of publishing a novel someday. I'm here to hone my craft and am open to feedback.
Stories (7)
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Broken Safe Haven - Chapter 3
Previous Chapters Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Jordan rushed into the training room, an old basketball gym now a labyrinth of training mats, punching bags, and blunted weapons. The musk of sweaty bodies and athletic clothes their owners neglected to wash hung in the warm air. Jordan’s boots thumped against the wooden flooring as he stomped across the room.
By Eric Boringabout 19 hours ago in Fiction
Broken Safe Haven - Chapter 2
Click here to read Chapter 1 The light of the morning sun gently brought Katelyn into consciousness. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then looked around the room. In her groggy state, the mess of the room felt emotionally draining. She sighed, then forced herself out of bed. A shiver made her realize she had slept in her swimsuit. Luckily, the men who came had left her clothes, though they were scattered about the room. She changed into some jeans and a punk rock t-shirt. She also changed the bandages on her feet. They were swollen and ached from the cuts she had endured the day before. Unable to get shoes on them, she settled for a pair of brown fuzzy slippers that looked like dogs.
By Eric Boring22 days ago in Fiction
Broken Safe Haven
Katelyn froze. The blood-curdling scream chilled her more than the tepid water of the lake. She floated quietly and looked around, eventually settling her gaze on the cabin she and her family were staying in. Her mom came running out the door to the lakeshore, waving her arms and shouting. There was another scream, this time farther away but just as chilling. Katelyn's heart pounded in her ears, nearly drowning out her mom's voice. The words reached her ears, but the meaning did not reach her mind. She floated and tried to calm herself enough to concentrate. She was far shore, and it took some effort to decipher the words. Finally, Katelyn was able to focus on her mom's words: "Please let me know you're ok!"
By Eric Boringabout a month ago in Fiction
In Too Deep
Pearl sat brimming with excitement on the edge of her seat. Going to the surface was a rare occurrence; it had happened only four times in her fifteen years of life. She watched the needle on the depth gauge slowly tick toward zero. Seahorses fluttered in her stomach as her excitement grew. Her father slowed the submarine as they approached. Pearl watched the water outside the control deck windows lighten in color until it finally washed away, revealing a clear blue sky. Pearl jumped and slipped off her seat, mainly from excitement and partially from surprise at how bright the incoming light was. Her eyes were accustomed to the much darker conditions of the habitat nearly an eighth of a mile below the surface.
By Eric Boringabout a month ago in Fiction
The Woman in White
Edward was driving along a back road on his way home from the All Hallows Eve party. The forested area was dark and seemed extra gloomy. The trees wilted more than usual, a light fog hung in the air, and the moon itself seemed to be hiding away. Even the car’s headlights were in a state of melancholy, illuminating the winding road ahead much less than Ed would have liked. He sat stiff in his seat. He had made this drive a hundred times before, but tonight at the clock’s third hour, it felt unusual, unsafe, unhinged.
By Eric Boring2 months ago in Horror
The Fate Machine
The old machine sat silent and motionless on the desk; dormant, yet still beckoning the author. It was dented and dinged in various places, the gold coating it once wore was tarnished and chipped. Though its insides were exposed, nobody knew how the machine worked.
By Eric Boring2 months ago in Fiction
The Portrait
Hunter stood warily in the foyer of the grand old house, a drop of condensation clung stubbornly to his forehead. As he peered around, an unsettling feeling grew in his chest. The doors swayed gently back and forth of their own accord. Light breezes of warm and cool air seemed to duel with each other in the open space. He could swear the walls were writhing, pulsing, as if the house itself was breathing.
By Eric Boring2 months ago in Horror
