Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
My name is Zenica
Legend has it that thousands of years ago this valley was ruled by an exceptional young woman of great courage and moral virtues. She adored her people, and they adored her. God too was inclined to them, gave them a winding river to nourish their plants and make all kinds of food grow in plenty. Watermelons as sweet as honey grew long after the woman and her people had died out.
By Meliha Avdic5 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 Community
I've lived in this world since I was 11 years old, where we now live as a new community inside this building. Our world was struck by a plague that many did not survive seven years ago, and we were unable to stop it. For as long as we could, we tried to carry on with our normal lives, but it posed too much of a threat to mankind, and people were dropping like flies. My school had only 150 students when the globe seemed to stop spinning, but by the time the world seemed to stop spinning, there were only 45. My mother and I lived with my grandmother, but she died just as the world was attempting to build "safe houses" to safeguard as many people as possible. She gave me her necklace, a tiny heart-shaped pendant, that my grandfather had given her on her wedding day while she was on her deathbed, and she told me that one day it would guide me through life. Of course, I didn't understand, but she was suffering from dementia, so I'm sure she was just confused. Even so, I've been wearing it every day since her death.
By Makayla Cullum5 years ago in Fiction
The Blue Glow of Jasmine
Luca irately heaves the weathered gray journal with the metallic nodules to the back of the rundown tent. Then he returned to digging through the tattered crates and various piles strewn about the dwelling with an anxious fervor. However, hours past sunset the shadows cover more than the dim yellowed light touches. The obnoxious roar and crash of the waves muffle any forming thoughts. The humid dense wind sprays the salted sand past the thrashing frayed entrance. Sweat stings Luca’s searching eye as he overturns the worn throw rug carpeting the ground. A makeshift knife caught on the underside of the woven threads flings loose and sticks in the ground just outside. Winded and frustrated, the tall thin leather skinned man stands to rub his eyes and notices the dark liquid leaking from the side of his hand. He reaches for the nearest cloth, a wholly white and blue “Lone Star Grill” T-shirt, to wipe his eyes and then wrap his hand. Hearing the shuffling of sand, Luca spins around and prepares to use the shirt as a roped weapon. A short stout older black man pulls the knife from its landing spot and enters the tent.
By Angel Chavez5 years ago in Fiction
12 Hours
On December 26th, 2026, World War Three started. No one saw it coming, and no one could have stopped it. It was perfectly planned. You may be wondering how do I know this if we haven't reached 2019? There is a secret laboratory in Southern California created by TWW3 (Terminate World War Three). TWW3 created a time machine, not to travel in the past, but to travel into the future. Obviously, their goal is to stop World War Three. On December 26th, 2018, I flew to Southern California because I was online searching for jobs and somehow I came across this sketchy website. Me being me, I clicked on it and unfortunately, it was TWW3's website. They needed two people for their job and I was desperate at that point in time, I
By Amya Olivia5 years ago in Fiction
Alamort
“Run, run, don't stop, promise me.” “I promise.” He runs, stumbles over random rocks, but he keeps going. Blood seeps from his knee, trickles down all over his calf, and stains his sock, but his legs continue to move. Truth be told, he cannot feel his legs anymore, they are like a foreign part of his body made of cotton wool. Yet he runs on. Because he promised.
By Violet Lee5 years ago in Fiction
The Box under the bed
Dear Diary, As I sit here writing in you for the last time. I thought I should tell you about the events that have taken place today. As you know it’s been three years since the pandemic that almost wiped out all of humanity. Life has become more of a struggle every day. We never know if someone is going to find us and kill us for all that we have. Then again fear is becoming a normal thing to my family and I. We used to be a family of four and now were down to three. My father died a month due to an infection from a cut on his leg. It’s so hard to go on without him and a lot of days I just want to give up. But I have to stay strong for my little sister and my mother. We were still in the old house that I grew up in and only left to find food and supplies. But things have been getting a lot worse around the neighborhood, so our mother decided it was time to find a safer place. So, we each packed a bag and headed north.
By jessica corr5 years ago in Fiction
The End
1 year Post Diary, It’s been a year…365 days of complete chaos filled with sleepless nights and hungry days. People have come and gone but we always end up alone. Just you, me, and mom’s locket. Gods, how have I kept that locket safe all this time? Such a simple piece- just a golden heart no bigger than my fingernail but in times like this could be the cause of my own death.
By Nicole Smith5 years ago in Fiction
11 Hours
" We're gonna die!" Bryson yelled. " Shut up Bryson, just keep running," I yelled. I felt my feet pound against the ground rapidly as my heart was trying to break out of my chest. Bryson and I ran as fast as we could to the portal. All I could hear in my head was if we were going to make it or not. I had to make it back.
By Amya Olivia5 years ago in Fiction
