Horror
It is death by chocolate.
‘This is all for you’ I tell myself as I allow my eyes to glance over the ingredients on the table top. I thought about us in the restaurant that night. Checkered table cloth with spits of red wine. You, holding my slightly glazed palm as the diamond you were placing on my finger winked up at me. The moment itself was heavy, and clung onto my mind like syrup, slowly dripping down my temple.
By Jodie Mackay5 years ago in Fiction
The Bennington Family
Mr. Bennington is a tall and burly man, clean shaven, always wears a paddy hat, has a strong Irish catholic demeanor, and believes in two things: God and family, in that order. During the day he works in the lead mines and after he finishes his shift returns home to spend time with his wife, Maggie, and his eldest son Richard, followed by James and the youngest is Daniel. On top of this, he spends quite a bit of time working in his cotton fields with his eldest boys, but he preferred to work in the garden, which he would say was his favorite chore, but if you were to ask the boys why he liked it then they would reply “because mom is there.” In the evenings, his favorite activity is to drink a single glass of Tennessee whiskey which he describes as the only kind of whiskey worth drinking and pairs it with a cigar, if he has one available.
By Jonathan Klarich5 years ago in Fiction
Death by Chocolate
DING-dong-DING The unexpected sound of the doorbell shook Alex from his afternoon slumber. “Whothehellcanatbe?” he slurred as he sat up on his couch, wiping his eyes and bracing himself. “Damn solicitors, stupid ass postman,” Alex muttered under his breath as he pushed himself up, slipped on his socked feet into his black slides and made his way to the front door. His six foot two frame allowed him to flip up the small curtain and look out the slender pane of clear glass decorating the door. His irritation mellowed into a sly grin as the offending bell ringer was not a salesman or postman, but rather one of the current object of his affection – Rebecca.
By Trini Gonzalez5 years ago in Fiction
Chocolate Poison
She tried to remember the days of feeling alive, but she could not. It seemed to have been so long since he had already moved on to another girl, not at all that looked like her, but in some way, in all the ways it annoyed her. It seems she had been a play toy to him, as he smiled at this girl with fair dirty blond hair & sky blue eyes. They dined in the room where he had made his move to stop her heart. But now it was her time to act out a plan of her own. She stood behind this girl, looking in the bathroom mirror checking her adherence. The poor girl did not know what would happen next if only she could see her looming over her & as she set her hand to this pure and loving girl's bare shoulder, the light went out for her. But the light went on for her and the blurnees of an indeed boy became living clearness.
By Victorian Black 5 years ago in Fiction
Two Heads
“We’ve got a problem,” said Jack. “Come with me.” Jon Stevens had just finished the last of the sweet stuff in the house: a slice of chocolate cake. There wasn’t much left to eat now after the electromagnetic pulse had killed the power grid a week ago. The smoldering remains of the airbus crash that had killed Cody were finally cool enough for people to pick through the wreckage, and the girls had gone to mourn over where their sons had died. Jack gave Pam his 20-gauge shotgun just in case they ran into trouble. Samantha carried a med kit and hiking pole. Jon was a little leery about letting their wives go to the crash site but relented when he saw there was a larger group of mothers going together.
By Karen Bouknight5 years ago in Fiction
Death by Chocolate
“A little chocolate never hurt nobody” said Eleanor Macklemore in her charming southern brogue as she served up a generous slice of her homemade chocolate cake to the new neighbor. Samuel Cochran had just moved in next door and despite being rather introverted, had agreed to meet Eleanor for her afternoon tea. Of course, she hadn’t left him much choice. She had been the listing agent on his new house and he had dealt with her several times. She had helped him get a deal, after all.
By Heather Foster5 years ago in Fiction
Shadows
Morton was trapped. Lucid, but not quite conscious. Mentally, he was aware of what he was seeing; and it went on, one horrific nightmare at a time. He had tried to keep track, making rough estimations of the duration of each bit of his life that he watched, but it escaped him. He clung to his composure for as long as he was able, but the barrage of horror had proven to be to much. As the wheel of memories spun on, Morton found himself pleading for the end, his own voice echoing through his mind in this new plane of existence.
By Brandon Boyer5 years ago in Fiction
