Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Journal of a Wanderer
OCTOBER 17th, 2278 Existence invites Conflict. It’s the determinate factor of evolution. Without Conflict, life would cease to develop along a natural course – for better or worse. It would stall and stagnate. It’s a harsh reality, but it’s a candid reality nonetheless. It’s always been here with us; Conflict, I mean. Since we learned to walk upright, he’s walked next to us, shaping us.
By Matthew Reilly5 years ago in Fiction
The Locket
She kept running. After lifting the amethyst encrusted locket Lana knew she'd get caught. It was late afternoon as the boat shipped out with whole families being seen off by relatives. Running up the plank Lana was stopped by a crewmember. "Pass please." Lana just stomped his foot making the plump mustachioed crewmember begin to hop on one foot like an overweight kangaroo. She was a former street urchin. Flowing strawberry blonde hair and barely visible freckles in green and brown rags. It was painfully obvious that if only by disguise she didn't belong. The ship itself was incredibly plush with intricate and ornate decorations. Even the carpets looked oriental or persian maybe. Why this was on a ship in the ocean Lana had no clue.
By John Lewis Wright5 years ago in Fiction
Uprising
Josie gazed at the building that stood ahead of her. Her excitement twitched to get inside and look around, but she kept her feet firm for a little longer, giving her eyes time to take in the beauty of the building. This was her favourite thing about life; finding these fascinating abandoned buildings, exploring their secrets and wondering about what they once were. This one was tall, built with sand colored stones of different shapes and sizes. There was no door left in the door frame, and there were open holes half way up the walls, but the ceiling remained intact. When she'd taken in all she could from the outside, she began the short walk towards the entrance, giddiness dancing in her tummy as she approached the stone steps leading into the building.
By Katie Thompson5 years ago in Fiction
Out on a Limb
Monica sat motionless in an oak tree as she watched two men pass below. From her vantage point she saw that the men were dragging a deer. She’d seen these two often lately but like most people, they’d not seen her. Most people had formed groups that now lived behind protected walls and rarely ventured out, some like the two arguing over who had to clean the deer, lived off to themselves. These people were not normally a problem, but they could be dangerous.
By Miah Crosby5 years ago in Fiction
Achromatic Doomsday
2030 The wind gently brushed Roden's hair back as he walked through the dense forest, his footsteps crunching in rhythm with the woodland wildlife. His gaze drifted from tree to tree - not searching, but merely acknowledging. As he wandered down the winding path, he passed by a remnant of the life before; a single traffic light post, wrapped in vines and sprouting grass from its various orifices. As his eyes ventured up the post, an ornate and friendly bird landed on the post and chirped at him.
By Thomas Samoht5 years ago in Fiction
The Crypt
‘The Crypt’ The kiss of cold air woke Jago from his restless sleep, his eyes creaked open to the dull light that seeped into his cell. Blinking, Jago wiped the sleep and frosty gunk from the corners of his eyes. Looking up from his awkward foetal position at the figure looming over him, Jago saw a hooded person, wearing a thick, weathered brown coat and worn-out gloves. Was it an uncanny skill and awareness that alerted him to the presence, or simply his unconscious mind warning him of danger, the question was mute as the figure, looming near the doorway, was seemingly the exact match of presence and stature as his friend North. Taking a second to listen closely, Jago focused on this new arrival, feeling for anything awry, he sniffed the air for familiar scents, a few quick glances from head to toe completed his rudimentary assessment. Deciding finally that it was his friend, Jago took his hand of the knife under his pillow as he swung both legs out from under the thermo-blanket that barely covered him. He rubbed the remaining sleep from his tired eyes, and slapped his cheeks with both hands to shake off the lingering grip that was the comfort and warmth of his slab-like cot. When in reality, the sleep he had just had was one of the worst of his life, they all were, every single one. Jago’s room lacked any homeliness or comfort, as there was no comfort down here to speak of, the only wares, or memorabilia he held onto were the knives he honed most waking hours, extra scraps of leather, blankets, some food and a tiny heart-shaped locket that belonged to his daughter. A picture folded up inside, framed a younger version of himself, his wife and their daughter, both of them remained trapped in the locket, and in the sweet ignorance of time.
By Tom Mcmulkin5 years ago in Fiction
Doomsday clock.
THE DOOMSDAY CLOCK The year was 20065 the world has been destroyed by tornadoes, floods, volcanos, and a giant dust storm destroying all crops and cars, people were starting to die until we decided to make small towns away from everyone else and ration canned food until we die. It was midnight when it happened, my mother woke me up in the middle of the night and told me to run. She handed me her locket; she never took off that locket I thought. My ears were ringing, it took me some time to realize that every clock around the world had stopped. A bang at the door made my mother scared, I heard men yelling my mother's name “Mary come on out, we won’t hurt you, we just want the girl and the necklace.” My mother told me to go. I saw a gun in her hand and jumped out the window, my ears stopped ringing as I put the necklace on. I saw everyone was yelling at each other and then 5 minutes after the clocks stopped time had stopped it was 12:05pm at night, for the rest of time nothing would happen. I heard a bang in my house and the men cheering. I never even got to say I loved her before she died. Then before I knew it the men came out from the house and saw me. They started chasing me. It was like when the dust came to earth everyone was running trying to get to shelter putting cars in garages. But this time it wasn’t dust or a storm or a volcano destroying Tokyo. They were chasing me, and I had no clue why. This can't be happening I should be in bed right now, but I was fully awake at this point. I was coughing so much because of the dust because I was running away from the bad men. When I was far away enough, I looked at the locket and saw there was a way to open it. When I opened it, I saw a note, it read.
By Kiernan McCluskey5 years ago in Fiction
Before
The old stone slabs stood tall in some places, short and broken in others, a crumbling mass that only barely resembled the manor home it once was. The roof had collapsed in recent years, though the house itself had been abandoned so long before that no one knew how long it had actually stood empty. When the roof had finally gone, it revealed a winding staircase to nowhere, reaching up into the sky, like an alien tree.
By Kristin Scarbrough5 years ago in Fiction
Punishment
My nightmare has returned, and I fear my death is nearly upon me. The lurking abomination I spied just beyond the horizon is drawing ever near, my fate is almost definitive. As a result, I have chosen to write down the coming days until it arrives and claim what is justly due. This could be considered my confession, but with my worst fear been realized, I am the only one left to read such regret and guilt-filled remorse. My sins are those that cannot be weighed, they cannot be measured, and I know in my heart there is no penance too harsh I should endure. I shall tell you dear reader, I shall tell you the story of the great mystery that has plagued humanity since the beginning, the mystery of our great ending.
By Dylan Richardson5 years ago in Fiction
