Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Morrigan
Far into the expanse of where mankind had once reached, rain fell on a distant world. There, a flight deck that should never have touched an atmosphere felt the kiss of rain, while waves slapped against the hull that should never have seen an ocean. So, it did not stand in contrast that the gunship whose engines still cooled, sat on a landing pad to which it did not belong.
By Christopher Butte5 years ago in Fiction
Angel of War
A hot tear ran down a dirty cheek, the ground rocking as another round of air strikes flowed around the little cellar with a metal door. Violet eyes full of water refused to blink, never wanting to forget the faces it could see. In her tiny dirty hands, a small silver heart lay open, her brother on one side catching a football in slow motion, from the last year she had seen him before he had moved away, on the other mom and dad, forever repeating a quick kiss on the forehead, and her mother’s beaming smile at the touch. Another missile fell too close for comfort, and for no more than a second, her eyes slammed shut as a cloud of dust invaded her dark sanctuary in the ground. Her lungs coughed and sputtered, and she waved a hand in the air to try to clear a space to breathe. The bottom corner of the door had been hit with a huge piece of rubble, ripping it off the hinges, the stormy sky staring back at her. Her locket let her look one last time before the screen glitched, slowed, and fizzled.
By Karina Keasbey5 years ago in Fiction
Fio & Pax
Soft light began to seep in through the broken windowpane, illuminating the decayed old room. A cloud of fog had settled upon the deserted town that chilly morning. Fio laid still, unfazed by the room’s gradual change in light. Pax, however, began shifting his small primate body, readjusting to a returning state of consciousness as he lay atop of Fio. The wooden floorboards sparkled with their coating of morning dew, as the dissipating sun fought to cut its way through the cracks and chinks in the old drywall. Pax raised his fuzzy head and peered around the glimmering space, easing into a stretch that awoke Fio. The two looked at each other and smiled. Fio sat up and broke out into a yawn.
By Jarrad Allen5 years ago in Fiction
Retaliation Earth
As a child I'd often stare out my window in awe of the summer storms that would trample through my neighborhood. When I was around 3 my mother taught me to make a game of waiting for a lightning strike so I could count the seconds between the blinding flash and the accompanying roll of thunder. She told me that every second counted as one mile, challenging me to try and figure out how far away the storm was. Looking back, I think it was just a way for her to train me to be less afraid of the bright surges of light and deafening cracks that intruded the vast depths of my young mind. I digress, things like that don't matter much anymore. Still, I can't help but catch my mind grappling at memories of the way life used to be, like a young kid stretching to reach the candy jar on top of the fridge. My normal suburban childhood seems like nothing but a hazy memory now and I suppose thinking about it, as much as it may bring back a sense of normalcy and comfort, does more harm than good in the chaotic world humanity was plunged into.
By Karice Jarm5 years ago in Fiction
Skin & Bone
The sun was yellow once, so the old ones had said. She no longer believes that. Murky brown at best, boiling muddy pools, rank. Smoke sears her lungs, the stench of charred flesh seeps through the sooty scarf shielding her face. She cannot last long out here. She bows her head against the wall of heat, shoulders set in survival, steps left, steps right.
By Judy Brightman5 years ago in Fiction
A Winter Fairy Tale
There once was a boy who loved his father so much that he accepted an invitation from his father to go on a snowshoe hike through the woods. This boy, who we shall call Hans, was not an active child, and preferred instead to read books about elves and castles, and watch television shows, and play tabletop dice games with those same elements in them, and he definitely did not like being cold. His Dad, however, loved to hike and Hans loved his Dad, so he screwed up his courage, got on his winter clothes, poles and snowshoes and followed his Dad out into the forest behind their house.
By Eric Hammers5 years ago in Fiction
The Other Doorway
Kelsy ran as if the hounds of hell were at her heals. Which, they were. She felt the heart-shaped locket pounding hard on her chest with each stride, mirroring the beat of her own as she gasped for air. She pumped her arms, willing her legs to move faster. The pack was so close, their blood-soaked saliva dripped on the backs of her bare legs like intermittent rain.
By Sarah Woodward5 years ago in Fiction
