Horror
Desolate Salvation
This place is a wasteland, a world once thriving driven to destruction by a war no one thought they'd win. No matter where you look, everything is charred and dusty. What little remains of the architecture is dross, it's completely unrecognizable. The scene is vast and unchanging.
By Functional on a Whim5 years ago in Fiction
Sarah's Escape
Blood obscured Sarah’s vision as she ran through the forest, she tried to wipe it away, to see where she was running, but it just kept flowing from the gash across her forehead. She ran, and ran, and ran, the tree limbs she pushed through only caused more bleeding on her arms and her cheeks. She could feel her fist, clenched around her mother’s heart-shaped locket, filling with blood. She could barely breathe, barely run anymore, but she had to.
By Michael Bivens5 years ago in Fiction
Movie Night
After far too long, finally our favorite weekend ritual was back up and running—the local movie theater. During the pandemic while the public was snuggling up on the couch and watching their favorite movies while sheltering in place, the movie theater in town was revamped. New look, new carpets, new snack bar, and (finally) new reclining seats. Needless to say Jake and I couldn’t be more pumped to get there for the midnight showing of “Galaxy Trooper”.
By Gabriella Desiree5 years ago in Fiction
The RedLight End
Waking up from my stomach growls, I begin to panic from the loud sound coming from outside of the window. I scramble, looking for my locket. This locket is unique to me, heart-shaped with an engraving that says “I will always love you” The special locket is a gift from my mom, who received it from her mom. It’s the only thing I have left in this horrible place.
By Trina Bailey5 years ago in Fiction
Tainted
CRASH! A loud glass-breaking noise erupts from the second floor. I’m not up there, and no one else but my younger sixteen-year-old sister is here. We've been alone since the Tainted started to appear and drag people to their graves only to have them resurface as the Bleached.
By Bella Anne5 years ago in Fiction
Number 50
Forty-nine. Forty-nine tallies etched like splintered veins into the sturdy oak headboard he once shared. Forty-nine less monsters terrorizing the town he called home. Forty-nine more reasons to keep fighting, to keep searching. He would carve out every inch of that headboard if it meant finding his family—his wife, his son.
By D.M. Roseen5 years ago in Fiction
Liminal
I found it at a bus stop. Waiting for the 8:15 from downtown to the Park’s Ridge neighborhood so I could walk thirty minutes home. There was plenty of people around me and even though it was dark the bus stop’s lights made is safely bright. It was, like a crack in a door, between a tall trashcan and Coke machine. It wasn’t much brighter than the place around it but it was just bright enough to make this strange thin rectangle stand out of place with the rest of the environment.
By Arthur E Nickles5 years ago in Fiction
The Inquisitor
Dust fell as the clock creaked its steady symphony. Tick… tock… Round and round the hands went playing their roles for an audience that had long since departed. No encore would be played when the performance ends. Each tick rattles the frame imperceptibly causing the wood to shudder and creak. Each creak shouts to the world "I am alive" but the world isn't listening. Instead the only purpose of this once proud device is to wind down its life and to harbour within its workings a locket.
By Jacob Alistaire McCrone5 years ago in Fiction
