Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
thief
VJ put his back against the cement wall, closed his eyes, and pushed all the air out of his lungs. He’d been gulping breath on top of breath until he felt like he was going to pop. The few cans he had managed to trade for were slowing him down; they were too heavy to keep up with them, so he kicked his bag into one of the crevices of the crumbling wall and covered it with a piece of dirtied glass. The remaining shards crunched as he peeked around the corner and started stacking breaths again until he saw the girl who was holding the man’s hand come out between the market stalls; then all the air came out in one big whoosh. They were disappearing down the next aisle and VJ bolted to the other side to intercept them.
By Monica S Wilson5 years ago in Fiction
The Heart-Shaped Locket
It is the Year of our Lord 2235, we just survived what scientists and astronomers has deemed as "God's cure" for the Earth's over-population problem and excessive gross misconduct...a meteor shower like that in which happened in Sodom and Gomorrah, except on a global scale. However, this batch of meteors came from a sector of space where it was considered the "Dead Zone" because no life seems to make it beyond this zone, a zone much like what we called here on earth the "Bermuda Triangle" where countless planes and ships have vanished after entering the area to never be heard from again. These meteors from the "Dead Zone" would prove to be more deadly than any falling meteors and asteroids to ever hit the earth because what was discovered hidden within them not to mention the sheer size of some of them, some as large as a cow. You see, as the meteors started entering the Earth's atmosphere, the outer layer is burned as it heads towards earth and usually lands somewhere such as in the desert where it remains dormant. However, until now we never ventured to find out what happens if it made contact with water until it was infecting us all because we didn't know what was hidden underneath the surface of the outer layer of the meteorite that when exposed to water and evaporates causes spores to become airborne and anyone who inhaled or any water source that it came in contact with would only cause the spores to germinate, such as in your eyes and mouth areas in which are usually wet...it feeds on the nutrients and irons contained in the fluids we have in our bodies. So as we perspire as in exercise, these unseen spores would attach itself to our sweat and enter into our bodies within our pores accelerating its growth rate in which it takes over the host. Eventually, the host dies of what seems to be a new strain of the flu having accelerated flu-like symptoms unlike any strain that ever existed in human history. So deadly this strain is that causes the host to begin to lose sight within a few days of exposure, next the sense of smell then that of taste. Eventually, the host dies due to no cure for this unknown virus.
By Charles Johnson, Jr5 years ago in Fiction
Submissive Evil 4
“Can you feel that?” I looked over my shoulder to see Julious staring into the Fold. It had opened a few days ago and continued to get wider. It was shimmering brightly. The Overworld drifting off into the distance surrounded in a cloud of pressing darkness.
By J. L. Cross5 years ago in Fiction
Missing
You’re the key to my heart. That’s what they said, and then they were gone. Nothing left, but a heart shaped locket. You would think in a world that constantly watches you, you can’t go missing. In Fort Arcadia, walls tower around the city and extend skyward to enclose everything within; to the average eye, the skies are limitless, but only those who know otherwise can see the faint outlines of the dome’s panel-screens overhead, replicating normality before the era of humanity collapsed. At least that’s what I have heard. The System tells us that the walls are for our safety, that nothing gets in; we are constantly reminded of the toxic organisms that grew and mutated as the world quickly died around us, resources dwindling on the daily. The Domes keep the Earth’s destruction outside, and no one leaves.
By Cora Cameron5 years ago in Fiction
Galactic Guide To Gospel Missions
Watch out! The Anthrosians are fiercely hospitable. They are dangerous in their desire to show outsiders warmth and welcome. Recall, if you will, the first millennia of galactic missions when there were many lessons being learned, like that which Bufford the Bulbous discovered unintentionally while on gospel mission to Anthros.
By Benjamin K. Lucas5 years ago in Fiction
The Fire Within
6 YEARS. I survey our campsite, taking stock of all that we have brought. Tent, kayak, sleeping bags, a variety of packaged foods, and most importantly, matches to start the campfire. I have waited for years for this trip. Dad always said I was too young, but now that I am six he can’t say that anymore. My brother was six when he went on his first trip, so now I have finally earned the right. My mom was hesitant to let me come of course. She said I am far too young to go kayaking in “that dangerous river”, which is really no more than a big creek. I, however, have very little interest in water. In fact, I hate it. Water makes you cold, wet, and gives you hypothermia. What I want is something quite different.
By Samuel Whittaker5 years ago in Fiction
Wanted
Day 2 1/2 Just a few more miles... The adrenaline pumped through my body as I ran like a madman. My leg muscles ached, practically begging me to cease all movements. My breath ran ragged and my lungs burned, but I had to keep going. I have to. There's no way I could go back.
By Tamela Stallworth5 years ago in Fiction
The Guardian
She stopped, clutching the heart shaped locket to her chest as she looked for the best escape route. Behind her she could hear the sirens and people screaming; trying to find her. The locket hummed in her hand as she scaled the side of a small tool shed and dropped to find a small enclave of abandoned wood and bricks.
By A. L. Benware5 years ago in Fiction
Read
In the distance Miguel could see a herd of them, moving quietly against the dark landscape, keeping low, hunting like they always did. Blunt objects in hand they used to bludgeon their prey, be it man or beast. Baseball bats, dented axes, a metal pipe. They wore long, filthy coats, patch worked with whatever material was at hand. Their faces were wrapped in garments under long brimmed hats their clan were known for.
By Stan Moroncini5 years ago in Fiction
