Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Fiction.

Tiamat Rising
December 20, 2021 The sound of breaking glass shattered the silence the two fugitives kept to avoid detection. Jeff's heart was beating so fast he could almost hear it. He and his alien girlfriend had been on the run for several months. He'd lost his job, his wife, and his family had disappeared. As he hid in the dark, in an old, abandoned building, he wondered if life would ever get back to normal again.
By Dan5 years ago in Fiction
Ryan & The Earth's Secret
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen earth. We inhabited Mars in the year 2321. Generations have passed and we’ve been living here peacefully. Everyone is going about their business whether that’s leaving school or heading home from work. I’m currently sitting in a tube with a crowd of people. It's the AutoGround, which gives civilians a quick transportation here and there. It’s pretty much the same as a train or metro. I’m headed to my old house. I plan to get my own place. I think it's about time I moved out. The house actually belongs to my parents but they passed away 2 years ago. I miss them a lot but as the saying goes, life moves on - and onto new adventures!
By Cai and Denz5 years ago in Fiction
Afterscape
I crouched down, trying to warm my hands over the burnt-down embers of a fire. I couldn’t build it up too big, as I was inside an old, run-down, damp building, and would smoke myself out. But I needed the warmth, or this building would be my tomb, as it was for many before me. I’d stepped over their bones on the way in, already picked clean of meat, clothing, or valuables by those who came to scavenge before. I’d been scavenging for years – almost my whole life – in the Afterscape.
By Riley Irvin5 years ago in Fiction
The Beast Inside
Year 2137 Miya Suzuki didn't think that she would become a Shifter in her family. She was given the vaccine that would protect her from the Beast-37 virus, along with everyone else in her family, but apparently it didn't work. There were some rumors that the vaccine wouldn't work on some people, however it was one every couple thousand people; at least that was what Miya heard.
By Tammy Pham5 years ago in Fiction
Beulah Road
Clouds correlate with a very different set of feelings seen from above. The accepted gesture for Faith is to cast the eyes upwards to the celestial. Only immense distance could glamourize this sale bin jumble of elbows and feet, however, of arm rests and foot rails, into the similitude of an angelic host. Looking down now only makes me feel like a meteorologist. The quiet is unusual, though only relative to the mesmeric vibration of the machine: the engines and the forced air vents, the stray crackle of sterile plastic wrap around the bags of man-made anything-but-nuts. The scratch of a pencil lead would hardly register even to the nearest sleeping neighbour. The sound then of a ballpoint is inaudible, and I write without looking at my hands, eyes still fixed on the clouds.
By Richard Abbott5 years ago in Fiction
Catastrophe
https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcS_-GZonya-iEdRmEbAGfP9PXMFlR9MKhrolQ&usqp=CAU Today I wonder where it all went wrong, as the acrid smell of urine clogs my pores. I don’t know how it happened, how the world seemed to flip upside down in a tailspin.
By Amber-Rose Marmol5 years ago in Fiction
Taboo Tattoo
Turning twelve was a big deal in the religion I grew up in. Twelve was the age when church officials determined that you could identify right from wrong, and kids became adults. On my twelfth birthday, my mother gave me a heart-shaped locket; it was on a delicate silver chain and contained a picture of each of my parents. This locket was my most prized position for as long as I had it.
By jordan hammon5 years ago in Fiction
the Dark Zone
“I’ve tasked you with bringing me a package. The condition is that you do not look at the contents. You will not be told what is inside. If you open it before it makes it to me, an alarm will alert me to what you’ve done and our deal will be forfeit. What I can tell you, is that the contents have no monetary value. Only sentimental.”
By Ross R5 years ago in Fiction
Candy House
It was just one of those days; hotter ‘an hell with no more than the occasional whisper of a breeze. Summer in Savannah was a sticky affair most days, and it had not gotten any better since the Great Fire. But this was something else. Anna would just as well spend the day indoors with a moldy, broken-spined paperback as muck about in the swamps to check her traps. The snakes weren’t biting anyway. What was biting was every God-forsaken mosquito south of the Tennessee line, all come out at once to torment the poor old hermit woman in her shack.
By Tanner Hall5 years ago in Fiction
Finding Joy
Alexei slowly opens her eyes, woken by the suns’ soft glow beginning to spread into her chamber. She used to wake up and bounce from bed, ready for all the day had to offer. It had been so long since those days, she hardly felt they had ever been real. Now there was no reason to bound, she felt no drive to rise. All of her days were spent the same, constantly focused on survival. She blinks her eyes and lets the fretting of the morning birds sing her back to sleep.
By Kerri M Lynn5 years ago in Fiction
Bedtime Story
"Tell the story." "Which one?" "You know, Mama. Thee story. My favorite one." "Yes, yes, my love." She took a deep breath and sighed. Her voice took a slightly deeper and ominous tone. "The first merfolk were stolen babies; taken from the unattended decks of ships and shores of the sea by the dolphins who lost their own babies. They took their new young and nursed them until their lungs grew strong, their limbs turned to fins, and their skin and eyes grew immune to the salt."
By Tinka Boudit She/Her5 years ago in Fiction
Locket passing
Clinging to the dead man’s chest it waited, as it had done many times before, it waited because it could do nothing else. Through the harsh sun blighted days and the deep chill of the frost bitten nights, the ever intensifying ionic storms from the north and the irradiated winds from the west, it waited. Time slowly tarnishing a surface that was once kept a lustrous gold, cared for and maintained not just for what it was but for the meaning it held inside.
By Andrew G5 years ago in Fiction