Adventure

Sensorium
Day 456… Or is it night? It must be his mind playing tricks on him, he can’t have been here this long. A young man pushes himself up from the hard, dusty ground upon which he had been sitting. It’s uneven and as he struggles to his feet, he almost stumbles back over again, slicing the inside of his finger on thickly woven brambles beside him. If he were to be honest with himself, the man still hadn’t figured out where ‘here’ is. A sigh of frustration leaves his lips as he realises that the tally marks in the mud, the ones he thought he had been logging, the only thing that had been helping him keep track of how long he has been there have seemingly vanished.
By Outrageous Optimism 5 years ago in Fiction
A Tale Tail Heart tale no.3
Bogran looked in his rearview mirror spotting one bogie on his tail, and another taking a shortcut in order to cut him off at the next intersection, but he was used to riding through the crosshairs and considered himself a rider with rare talent for evasion during active conflict. He had torn through the Karni border crossing on his Ducati when the noise from Mossad indicated a bombing would take place, and consequently only six Israelis were killed. Again, he had torn through the streets of Gaza sometime later with three little kids on the back of his motorcycle as he got them safely out of harm’s way while bombs were dropping on beaches and on hospitals. That was personal. He had a thing for their Nasrani mother. The point was, he knew how to ride through a war zone and two Comic-Con wannabes from the Neo-Yamnayan military police were nothing to shake off.
By CK Henson Hayes5 years ago in Fiction
Mother
It's different than we once imagined it would be. It is not a desert, it doesn't look like mars, and there are no crumbling buildings. The sky is a light emerald color, not grey or black. There are so many animals. Everywhere you look, life seems to be flourishing. With one exception... there are no humans.
By Mandolyn Leader5 years ago in Fiction
Hunger
The air was stale and wretched. The scent of decay clung to his nostrils like rotten fruit. This was surprisingly a good sign as it helped hide their own stench. They had not been able to bathe for several days now and they were determined to not have the game they were tracking be aware of them.
By Mark Tomczyk5 years ago in Fiction
Love is Long and Deathly
The kid crested the hillside at night with the fires of the city flickering over his shoulder and the screams of people fading in the distance. He sifted through the darkness with his hands outstretched. It was a void he could not be birthed from. Branches grazed his face and neck and entangled his tattered clothes. He became so lost and without hope that there were times he would sit on his knees and place his head in his hands. Often tears came. He felt above his eye and found something sticky between his fingers. He brought it to his lips and tasted his blood. He wiped his sleeve across the cut and moved about in the darkness.
By Kincaid Jenkins5 years ago in Fiction
A Keeper and Giver of Moments
Life is procedural. So are films. So is filmmaking. Life is growth. The addition of time and chance and action and lessons. Life is small. And big. Fleeting and monumental. Fast and slow. Life is yesterday. Life is today. Life is tomorrow. Life is many things. Most of all, to me, life is all about the picture at the end. Moments and circumstances are pixels and puzzle pieces; only beautiful as a complete ensemble. That’s why we watch films. We get to see totality. A complete circle. In my creative journey, I am seeing a circle about to complete – my passion for storytelling through filmmaking is becoming a possibility. I first fell in love with films. Then I learned how to write thoughts. Then I learned how to write poems. Then I learned how to write songs. Then I learned how to tell stories. Then I learned how to take photographs. Then I learned how to communicate and work with a creative team. Then I learned how to paint. Then I learned how to write scripts. Then I realised that in all of this – I had learned how to make films. Life is procedural. So are films. So is the creation of a filmmaker.
By Azuoma Obikudu5 years ago in Fiction
The Taken Road
Tirah pulled in a harsh breath through her mask, back pressed against a ruined brick wall coated with soft black moss. The sky was darker than usual for this time of day, acid-green clouds bright with lightning drifting across the grey like a veiled threat. Gods-damned Gildeds, staining the sky with the foul pollution that spewed from their precious Domes!
By Monica Shortell5 years ago in Fiction
Episode #18 Going back the way you first came in...
You go out of your way to inform Jordan what you have found on the map, the haunting in the washroom if your go back the same way you came up the stairs. It is the pissed off Ghost Mom looking for her Baby! Do you really want that pissed off Spirit going after you and locking you in the bathroom! Know need to think that one over for very long! “Hey Jordan, did you notice that map tells us there is a haunted washroom going back this way?”
By Susan McGill5 years ago in Fiction
Westlanders
The Ramshackles unfolded in front of them as they came over the hill. Only one of the towering skyscrapers, which climbed hundreds of feet into the air, maintained its original structure. The rest of them had bits chipped out of them, and a few looked as though their tops had been sheared clean off.
By Justine Sparks5 years ago in Fiction
Shattered Souls (Short Story)
Hello, my name is Elaine Kali and I have special abilities. When I was ten years old the U.S. Government took me away from my family, my home, and my only friend, Malakai Thanatos. I was scared and confused at the time. They told me that they’ve been watching me for several years. Everything I’ve done and said, they already knew. They were like the super-secret stalkers of all time, but in reality they were just secret service agents.
By Khaliah Allen5 years ago in Fiction
Episode #10 Native Lands
Once crossing the threshold into the Sacred Native Lands everything around you now feels different; a good, peaceful and calm feeling. You immediately start absorbing energy around you, giving you a form of rejuvenation within your soul. As though being lifted to a higher form of spirituality, a better understanding of all living things.
By Susan McGill5 years ago in Fiction
DESTRA ISLAND
DESTRA ISLAND Destra island, also known as the land of the lost souls. Destra island is a place where no human would love to be. The legends have it that people who end up going there tend to bear endless suffering and pain which eventually led to death. Many have explored the island out of curiosity but ended up paying the ultimate price. Lawmakers around the world even passed laws that forbidden people from visiting the Island but that didn’t stop people from exploring their curiosity.
By Clinton Agude5 years ago in Fiction