Fantasy
Crush
The city is dark as she runs. Occasionally the glowing cinders of an abandoned drum fire hint at the presence of other stragglers, but there are no other signs of life. What could survive so many assaults, one after another? The air has a chalky brightness from all the concrete dust, smoke, tear gas, antiseptic spray. The sharp burn in her lungs has become her most constant favorite friend, a dependable voice at every turn.
By Kat Campbell5 years ago in Fiction
The Cost Of Vengeance
Levi stood at the top of the large rooftop, staring down at the destruction. He knows he shouldn’t be here, but he just can’t help it. This used to be a wonderful neighborhood. The kind where all the neighborhood kids played together, and people were happy. The kind where everyone knew each other. The kind where you could raise a family. All that changed after it happened. After that experiment went horribly wrong and sent out the energy blast.
By Blake Riley5 years ago in Fiction
Carnival Godmothers
Sirena She wanted her hair to be green. She knew from the start that that’s what she wanted out of the life that had been planned for her, but not the plan her mother wanted to see. She wanted it to be green especially in her baths, when her long hair floated and it was not a strain on her little neck. The frizz of her hair did not exist there, the hard brush strokes of Nana were not possible then, her hair was wild thing, a blob of mass like a jellyfish lazily floating towards the surface. She wanted it green like the mermaids, so that she could blend in to the reeds that she saw at the bottom of the tiny river near la iglesia that used to be used for baptisms, like in the days of the Jordan. She wanted the fishies to wriggle through it, think it an anemone and raise their babies there. She wanted the sun to be a dancing light that was wavy every time she moved. She wanted the water lilies to be her bouquet when she decided to marry her new life. She wanted to swim rather than run. She asked and asked and asked for the color of the lily pads, of the grass, of the trees, of the algae, to be the color that defines her head and identity. She wanted the little straight hair she had to look like the stalks that hold flowers up and her big curls to be something people admired when the sunlight turned them to a forest.
By Ariana GonBon5 years ago in Fiction
A Vampire's Life - Part 2
5 July, 1602 He hadn't seen the punch coming, but he certainly saw the stars exploding on the insides of his eyelids after it connected. One good hit was all it had taken to down the thirteen-year-old, and he'd dropped like a sack of rocks. Dazed, he groaned in pain, trying to roll over so he could get up off the wet wood of the shipyard's dock. Yet, even as he did, another burst of pain came to him as one of the older boys kicked him in the stomach. He dropped onto his side and curled, dry-heaving from the pain.
By Bastian Falkenrath5 years ago in Fiction
Seven Strangers
Marjory stood against a set of large steel doors; her hands were clasped daintily at her waist. She was in a corridor of sorts with two large, rusted steel doors in front of her, held closed by a chain. The two behind her were more polished and required a key card for entry. Her eyes were closed and though her body was in that damp corridor, her mind was sunbathing on a remote island. A gorgeous, shirtless native was just about to hand her a drink when a cacophony of voices and growls brought her back to reality. When her eyes opened there were six people close enough to her face to tell she’d skipped her last facial screaming and pleading for her to let them in. They were all angry, but one voice stood out among the rest. Probably because it was an 11-year-old girl hurling profanities at her like she was born to it.
By Jerica Floyd5 years ago in Fiction
Children of the Sun
Children of the Sun By: Shannon K. O’Brien & Cari D. Missan I don’t think I can run anymore, even though all of our lives depend on making it out of this cave. I trip, but Lucian’s hand whips out, grasping my arm and wrenching me to my feet before I can fall face first onto the unforgiving, jagged stone ground.
By Shannon O'Brien5 years ago in Fiction
Elysium
If you have ever experienced a moonless night, so quiet that aside from the hum of a steady wind you could almost hear the earth in rotation, then you might be able to imagine the leftovers of what had happened nearly 60 years ago, when the light had been taken from the world and all of the life within it.
By Maria Clark5 years ago in Fiction
Surviving the Wounded Earth
Cheers and jeers erupted from the crowd of spectators as my elbow landed squarely upon my opponent’s jaw. I rode the bucking torso underneath me like a writhing wave of flesh and then landed another blow. A new torrent of sound released from the crowd as the body beneath me went limp, and I knew that the fight was over. The crowd began to settle as I stood up, and I watched them exchange dirty coins and scraps of whatever tech they could find as currency. It would have been an ugly sight under even the best circumstances, but as I walked away from the bloody and battered frame of another fighter, everything about the scene seemed filthy and vile. But the days of lavish stadiums, thousands of fans, and affluent spectators were long gone. I pushed my way out of the pit and through the throng of gamblers and voyeurs as fast as I could.
By Martin McGreggor5 years ago in Fiction
The World Has Grown Silent
It’s been 3 years since I’ve last seen my mother. All I have left of her is my great-great grandmother’s gold heart-shaped locket. The one she always told me to wear, but I refused because I saw it as tacky and old. I never thought that now I would hold it so dear and pray that one day I would survive long enough to give it to children of my own.
By Imani Lehte5 years ago in Fiction
