Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Unfeeling
I capped two of the fuckers on the third floor. Easy meat. Their heightened adrenaline levels make them dumb; careless. They’re overaggressive. I snort to myself as I look at the fresh blood spatters beading on my flak jacket. Overaggressive. Yeah, Amy. Ya think?
By Gareth Mitton5 years ago in Fiction
Glory
The humming of voices awoke me. Upon opening my eyes, I saw no movement, save for the flicker of a candle opposite me. Only a timid breeze and the smell of rain found me at my place upon the carpet. Cold air danced upon my torn skin to be fended off by the blood that blossomed on my uniform, blood trickling from a tear in my flesh I do not remember receiving. Leaning on the stone wall behind me, I hobbled upwards, seeking someone, anyone. I grasped for names, places, anything, but could find no memory, nothing but my own voice within my mind. I cried out, searching for those voices to find me, help me. But they did not come.
By Sienna Petri5 years ago in Fiction
Misshapen Heart
April 20th, 2025 I don't know why I've always felt that my locket, though still so precious to me, is misshapen. After all, for it even to exist in this world is miraculous. It alone brings me comfort, after having missed out on heaven completely. I still can't believe all that's happened, and especially that Jason was right about so much of it. Now he's dead, and the city's gone; damn this life!
By Taktis of Peace5 years ago in Fiction
A Sustainable Dream
Kayla took her coffee to the veranda and sat back in the old rocking chair, surveying the landscape. The scene before her was a dream come true: trees laden with fruit; vines, canes and bushes overloaded with berries; a forest of colour as vegetables grew to abundance. Tiny blue wrens flew from tree to tree; wattle birds fed on the cyclamen and higher above a wedge-tailed eagle circled the sky. Beyond towered the mountain, its colour ever changing with the seasons and the light.
By Heather Ewings5 years ago in Fiction
The Locket
He did not understand today. He sat in his room awaiting for the group to arrive. His room was gray, the only color he had ever known. The walls were the same from floor to ceiling. The ceiling itself was this same wretched neutrality. The floor was dull to the point of no different. He had other colors in life such as the green blanket upon his bed, colored images in textbooks, and small objects and signs placed throughout the metallic confines of the ship he lived endless days, months, and years to in a drab existence. Always there was only gray, nonetheless. He had a small end table near the bed, the bed itself, a closet, and a desk filled with his drab uniforms. All of which were gray. The room was without windows. He had no understanding of day and night, but grayness was everywhere. In his hands, however, he held the locket she had given him. It was not gray. The heart was rose gold with a ruby inlaid, and he only knew this because she had said so. He only knew it was as beautiful as her voice. The chain gleamed like her eyes singing life as it had done when he first met her months ago. He held it tight in his hands as he had done endlessly since...well, since he did not understand today nor did he understand since either. He only knew that his gut was tied up in knots and his heart was empty. He saw the door handle turn, and they entered his room. He looked only down as they entered.
By Joseph Murch5 years ago in Fiction
