Fiction
The Chronicles of Lost Key (Chapter 3)
The theater was eerily quiet as Alina held the golden key in her trembling hands. Its intricate design glimmered faintly in the dim light, as though it carried a life of its own. Mr. Mufid stood beside her, his gaze fixed on the key, his expression a mix of curiosity and knowing.
By Faisal Zucker about a year ago in Chapters
One Husband Too Many
He was late. Jake had fallen asleep before setting his alarm for 6:15 a.m. When he woke to find himself slumped in the recliner with the TV still blaring, he didn’t feel much like going to work. He had less of a hangover than usual but still wished he had some ‘hair of the dog’ on hand. He’d started his report on last night’s murder, but quickly realized he didn’t have enough information to move any further on it. He’d have to make a few stops today to get what he needed.
By Marie McGrathabout a year ago in Chapters
Glass Winter | Chapter IV
Sevt insisted on moving quickly. Quinart believed they should at least take the victims down from their gallows. After searching the neighbouring houses for tools more reliable than a dirk, the two men set about cutting the nooses with bedding placed underneath for soft landing. An hour later saw all of the deceased arranged in the centre of the plaza. With no time for a burial, the company decided on cremation, using the bedding as kindling with Sevt’s light stick setting it all ablaze.
By Andrei Babaninabout a year ago in Chapters
Glass Winter | Chapter III. Content Warning.
Despite travelling together by sled for over two days, Quinart still only saw Sevt as a mystery. He might have already known everything there was to know about the man, perceiving his insolent grit and perseverance. And yet there was a secrecy about him. Quinart no longer dreamed of any tangible vision save for a timeless darkness between his waking hours, but he could not recall the dancing lights causing such distress as they now did for Sevt. His sleep would be restless, awaking with violence to wander beyond their resting site before returning to bed an hour later. Quinart might have better explained the prophetic disposition of dreams in a place like this. Probing Sevt the following morning on what had disturbed him so would only result in dismissive remarks.
By Andrei Babaninabout a year ago in Chapters
Neverchangeable | Chapter 8
<< Click here to read from the beginning (Chapter 0) < Click here to read Chapter 7 My eye burns. The one that’s no longer there. It’s a feverish heat that swells in my scooped out eye socket and presses up against my brain. I haven’t noticed until now. My head is splitting. It’s a headache like nothing I’ve ever had before. I haven’t noticed. Dad’s liquor cabinet is still stocked. I grab a bottle. I look at you. You say nothing. You just wait. Wait like you tried to teach me how to all those years ago, by the pond, by you, by Farley, by the bonfire. Your voice going, Just wait, Mutt – just wait!
By sleepy draftsabout a year ago in Chapters
