Fantasy
The Wudu Hollows
This is my last challenge in the Bardiché trials, to become a Kairu Mystic. Suffice it to say, because of this task, heat of trepidation boils to the surface of my flesh. It is the only undertaking, thus far, in which I have little to no control over the outcome. Either the ancestors will find me worthy, or they won’t. I relinquish the burden of worry, to the universe.
By Mark Bennett 4 years ago in Fiction
Forgotten Bull
It was a warm summer day when I saw the bull. He was a massive, black bull with huge horns that looked deadly if they were pointed at a person. He looked at me and I could see into his eyes. They were a warm, deep brown that reminded me of a dark oak wood. I tried to look away but couldn’t, it was as if he were trying to tell me something that I could not understand. A message from the gods, perhaps. Then it happened.
By Jessie D White4 years ago in Fiction
The Goddess, The Young Girl, The Bull, and The Eagle
In a realm known as Symphonia, a young boy named Alex was adorned in princely attire and was walking alongside his best friend named Xion. Xion was wearing a white dress that matched her pure snow white hair. The two friends were happily holding hands as they traveled the pathway. The way they were going, they didn’t seem to have a particular destination in mind. A third person was accompanying them: an unnaturally tall woman who was wearing armor that showed she was a warrior and she was there to protect Alex and Xion. In her right hand, she was carrying a double sided spear. The name of this giant woman was Nadalia. Nadalia was a short distance behind Alex and Xion as she wanted to give them their personal space.
By Clarence Demaree4 years ago in Fiction
A Little Dry
Nikki sifted through the heap of degraded trash searching for a glass bottle. The Spirits knew even a plastic container would work at this point. At 45 degrees centigrade one couldn't be picky about a receptacle. There wasn't much left anywhere anymore though, and this made her anxiety peak as the thought passed through her mind. There was little she could do given the time of day, and finding another trash pile or garbage dump within a couple miles walk was almost chanceless. She wiped the sweat from her brow with her dusted torn rag and looked longingly at the rubbish in front of her. She was worn, hungry, ragged, and desperate. It had already been near 2 days since she had passed out near her shelter fire and shattered her last glass bottle. Having taken a drink from a brackish puddle in an old underground car park, the result of which had been intense bowel discomfort, she was angry at herself for her lapse of attention. She had lost friends for less stupidity, hence her current lonely position in the world. she scooped, and dug trying to conserve what she had left for energy. The situation was made even more ironic given the enormous amount of fatty meat she had in her sack having laid waste to a large feral hog earlier in the week. Most of which had been carefully cured and smoked in her encampment a fair sight into the hills, a straight shot north from her current location. Salt was a precious commodity, one she was precarious enough to stumbled upon while perusing an abandoned hostel sometime ago. There had been thousands of individually wrapped packets just stacked in multiple boxes in a mostly collapsed section of the former kitchen. It had lasted her quite a while now, and she was still so proud of herself for having obtained near literal gold worth of currency, and life sustaining support. A crush red plastic cup made a crinkling and cracking sound that snapped her from her day dream of long past triumphs. Only long enough to allow the disappointment to settle over again.
By Bill Foster4 years ago in Fiction
Skating Away
Skating Away By Philip Tennant Katy put one skate clad foot tentatively out onto the ice. The glassy surface simultaneously crunched and squeaked under her blade. The ice looked thick enough, and her friends had told her they’d been out on it already. She could even see the tracks from other skaters further out on the pond, despite the light dusting of snow that had fallen that morning. But there was just that niggling doubt at the back of her mind, like some sixth sense was warning her not to. After much hesitation, Katy took a deep breath of the sharp winters air, then lifted her trailing leg, and pushed away at the same time, and she slid slowly out onto the ice.
By Phil Tennant4 years ago in Fiction
The Culling of the Wild
I Emanual was freezing and exhausted. Flakes of snow bit into his face, and he stared at the tree line. The evergreens were just beginning to thin out at the altitude they were at. It would have been a beautiful scene if they weren't running for their lives. He looked back over his shoulder, and saw the impossibly long line made up of his village behind him. He trudged another step through the hard packed snow, and looked at Trevor. Trevor gave him another one of his annoying eyerolls, and communicated with his face that their was no way they were going to slow down.
By Kyle shick4 years ago in Fiction
Nightmares of Battle
Tossing and turning, a man jolts up in bed, sitting up frantically, wiping sweat away from his face. His body, pulsating with deep quick breaths. He looks around his candle-lit room in worried fear. With the candles wick low and fading, he staggers to a bucket of water to wash his face. Within the rippling of the water, the man stared deeply into the reflection of his eyes.
By Logan Halverson-Bergez4 years ago in Fiction
Portal in the Piggly Wiggly
Portal in the Piggly Wiggly, by Laurie Lyons 7:42 A.M. Tuesday morning. Raven hits the snooze button. She will hit it two more times, then wake up. Next is coffee and granola, then dressing in black skinny jeans and a black T-shirt. She has 5 identical sets of each. She accessorizes with heavy black eyeliner, black combat boots and colorful socks (which no one can see, but she knows are there). The apron will come later. At 8:20 she walks out the front door to catch the 8:26 bus that will take her 7 ½ miles to the Piggly Wiggly. Here she walks down aisle 7 to the employee break room, places her things in her locker, and puts on her red apron before checking the board for today’s assignment. This is precisely the sequence of events of every weekday morning of Raven’s life for the past 6 years. This particular Tuesday, Raven is feeling especially numb, as if she could sleepwalk through her day and no one would know the difference. Half alive and half something else. Not dead, but not really living either. Certainly not living enough to even imagine that things could be different.
By Laurie Lyons4 years ago in Fiction
Laelaps and the Vixen
The instability of the Fae Realms of Elphyne exploded after the assassination of the Summer King five years ago. Whatever peace might be wrought in blood and iron between the disparate Courts was shattered that night, along with his blade and his lone heir's heart.
By Elizabeth Noyes4 years ago in Fiction
The Mermaid's Menagerie
Commander Simpson slid across the wet boards as the hurricane shoved the HMS Stoat leeward. Hands suddenly gripped his left arm, and he turned to help Mr Noble steady himself. The young seaman's face looked as pale as if he'd seen a ghost, or become one. Simpson clapped Noble on the shoulder and shouted over the howling winds: "It will be alright! Help secure the foresail!"
By Deanna Cassidy4 years ago in Fiction
