Horror
Games at the Lake
The night was dark and dreary with a seemingly never-ending rain pouring from the heavens. The rain had been pouring for days now, and all of the trees have lost their leaves as the cool Autumn air moved in. The city streets were pretty much bare as most people tried to stay out of the rain. The only people out were bar hoppers and partiers, which means when someone gets kidnapped in the middle of the street no one notices or seems to care.
By Elizabeth Townsend4 years ago in Fiction
Crystal clear
He told her to meet him at midnight, near the lake. The darkness shadowed everything as she waited, shivering from the slight chill in the air. The weeping willows on the bank, looked like giant dark monsters, with their willowy tentacles brushing the shore.
By Zelda Foxx4 years ago in Fiction
Going Down
I was seven years old when my father taught me how to swim. He said his daughter ought to learn like he did. We rode out to the lake in the '95 Chevy. It was bright red, and we sat on the back gate and licked ice cream cones in the sun at a gas station on the way. He told me that I ate my ice cream like a boy, and I laughed with him, a biteful of the treat making my teeth ache pleasantly. He tousled my long blonde hair, wearing a grin that was equal parts wistful and loving, and told me to hop in the truck, kiddo. I obliged, climbing the truck's step up to the passenger seat that dwarfed me, and closing the door, the belt buckle hanging beside me. The dashboard was warm, like the rest of the car, and it smelled like dust and polish. I nestled myself into the leather and waited obediently for father. He opened the door and settled himself into the car gingerly, shimmying into his seat. He looked over at me, and for a moment, his smile faltered and aged.
By Geoff Hadlington4 years ago in Fiction
Muddy Waters
Faith loathed going to the lake with her three sorority sisters. It had been nearly two years already. She didn't mind paying her respects to the dead; taking the time, to pay homage. But, her sorority sisters treated it all like it was a celebration; someone had died for pete's sake.
By Adrianne Kirksey4 years ago in Fiction
The sounds of Water
The Sound of Water To Violet, the sound started off as pleasant as a whisper could, and in a way, a calming one. It would drift in and out of her ears and mind effortlessly. When she first started to hear it, Violet didn’t know that the soft sound only came at her loneliest times.
By Nathanael John Highben4 years ago in Fiction
Madda Femi's Long Reach
April 1799 An Atlantic gale strained HMS Lutine’s masts against her shrouds and stays. The wind roared capriciously, veering from west to north and back again. The ship see-sawed, heeling to port and starboard, pitching and yawing at the waves’ direction. Torrential rain lashed her deck. Lookouts, blind in the darkness, peered for any sign of land. The sounding line warned of a rapid shallowing beneath the keel. The shriek of the storm drowned out the Captain’s commands. And junior officers braved the heaving deck to cajole the sailors manning the halyards and sheets to drop some sails and keep the others taut.
By Pitt Griffin4 years ago in Fiction
The Lady of Lake Lanier
The lake glistened peculiarly that day. I couldn’t explain it, but its shimmering ripples caught my eye. The ripples lapped the sides of some boats and gently rocked them side to side, all the while calling to me – beckoning me. The long walk down the dock became hypnotic. The other celebration attendees didn’t seem to notice, all consumed with filling coolers with brew and White Claws – most of them were already drunk.
By Enjonai Jenkins4 years ago in Fiction
She Knows
She Knows She knows. She knows where I am. She knows where I live, restaurants I like to eat at, the school our kids go to. I moved three states away but it still wasn’t enough. She still knows. I told the police and they don’t believe me. When I asked for a restraining order against her they said that paranoia was a normal response for someone in my position. They attempted to assure me that they wouldn’t let anything happen to me and the kids. This is the bullshit my tax dollars go toward. Half assed promises and even worse protection. I left the police station knowing that I was in this alone. I knew it would happen. I knew they would think I was crazy after I put the bars on the window of our house. They didn’t see the six deadbolts I put on the inside. Three locked, and three unlocked in case someone tries to pick them. That way they would always be locking three no matter what they did. I’m not crazy, I’m cautious. I know what she’s capable of. I’ve seen her do it. The kids don’t seem to remember her, or they’ve decided not to bring her up; to me anyway. They stopped asking where their mother was and I never felt the need to tell them.
By Tiana Hall4 years ago in Fiction
Ginny
Ginny waited. The taste of the last child's bone marrow was almost lost, a mere echo of flavour on her thick, black tongue. The faint scent of blood, stray particles that hung in the stagnant water, stirred her senses, serving only to taunt her. Her distended belly ached and rumbled, the gnarled, yellow claws of her toes swirling the grey-green mud beneath her feet. Grey-green, like her own flesh, pallid and cold as the water in which she floated.
By Daniel Tessier4 years ago in Fiction
