Horror
Artificial
I look at the girl lying against the steel table. She seems so peaceful, her face almost angelic in the way it lacks blemishes or wrinkles. Blonde hair clings to her face and falls in waves down onto the slab beneath her. They removed her from her growth canister and brought her into a sort of observation room. It feels like a morgue the more that I look around. The incubation holds are set into the walls at even intervals. To think that only moments ago, she had lid in there soaking in a hyper growth solution that… I do not remember what they told me it was. As if it really mattered to me anyway.
By Gunnar Anderson3 months ago in Fiction
Parallel Paths
Have you ever wondered how your life might have been different? Wondered what-if..., or 'if I had just...'? Looked back at a decision, large or small, and considered what would have changed if you'd chosen differently? Life is like a river, filled with forks and branches and offshoots of what might have been.
By Natasja Rose3 months ago in Fiction
Glimpse into the Future
I really love my life! I rise each morning before the rest of my family, work out for about an hour in the basement gym, then wake everyone so they can start their day. While I’m showering, my wife Alice is making breakfast while encouraging Billy and Jane, our kids to move faster so they won’t miss the bus. It really is a “Leave it to Beaver” kind of life. My job will never make me rich, but it is fulfilling and an easy commute as well. Yes, I love my life and everything about it except for one thing, the incessant and ever-present background noise.
By Mark Gagnon3 months ago in Fiction
The Ghost Cars
John yawned as he gripped the steering wheel of his car, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. There was something gnawing at the edges of his memory, a nagging feeling that he couldn't quite shake. He felt as though he had been on the cusp of remembering something important, something that had eluded him for far too long. Yet, no matter how hard he strained his mind, the elusive memory remained just out of reach. With a frustrated sigh, he shook his head and brushed it off, focusing once more on the road ahead.
By Scott Grim3 months ago in Fiction
The Unnumbered Door
When I first walked into the Harrington Apartments, my shoes stuck a little to the hallway floor. The carpet changed color halfway down, as if someone ran out of one kind and just kept going with another. The brass banister was loose in its brackets, wobbling a little when I brushed past. Everything looked clean, but not cared for, like someone kept wiping the same layer of age instead of removing it.
By Tim Carmichael3 months ago in Fiction
The Whisper Beneath the Floorboards
When I first saw the old townhouse at the end of Wicker Street, I wasn’t looking for beauty. I was looking for quiet. The kind of quiet that fills the air after heartbreak, when your own thoughts become too loud to bear. The landlord, a weary man with half-moon eyes and nicotine-stained fingers, handed me the keys with a warning:
By Muhammad Kaleemullah3 months ago in Fiction
Dissociate. Content Warning.
I was alone when it happened. The air was chilly, and I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk on King Street. “Ouch.” I said it out loud and caught my balance. I pulled a black hood over my head and buried my hands in my front pockets. I remember my toes beginning to feel numb and a cold chill ran through my body with a shudder.
By Theresa M Hochstine3 months ago in Fiction
