Horror
Actually, Dude, Exactly No One Says the World Will End in Ice
Joshua and I had an ongoing argument about what was more authentic. He liked to bid on auctions or maybe he'd go to somebody's garage sale and buy up shoeboxes full of old postcards. To me, that wasn't the least bit real, that was buying it.
By Amethyst Qu5 years ago in Fiction
Death By Chocolate
It’s the second day since the zombie apocalypse started and all Jared can go on about is how much he wants chocolate cake. It probably doesn’t help that it’s his birthday, but you’d think the man would have some priorities about living through a zombie apocalypse. But no, all he can think about is having chocolate cake for his birthday.
By Taylor Ellwood5 years ago in Fiction
The Hangman's Barn
I’m not one to hang myself half-seriously. On the contrary, I carefully planned the circumstances of my death; and while I did so, I did not anticipate how long it would take for death to finally come. And so I’m still here, hanging - obediently, rather as a dog waits at the end of its leash - for what seems an inordinate length of time.
By Willa Chernov5 years ago in Fiction
The Web She Wove
Prologue Deep in the dark of night Lilly lay motionless in her bed. Her hands clutching the folds of her bedsheets, drawing them tight against her face. Looming over the foot of her bed was the prickly body and legs of a spider. She screamed but only a raspy croaking sound escaped. Wide-eyed with terror she watched as the enormous front legs tapped further up the bed, measuring the outline of her body before moving forward. The little girl once again croaked out a scream. “Mom!” but the sound barely made it past her lips. Finally, she just screamed. At first, the sound was a muffled squeak but as the spider advanced the scream took hold and grew in volume. This wasn’t a dream.
By Cynthia Mudge5 years ago in Fiction
The Vanishing
The Vanishing Randy drove down the winding gravel road aimlessly trying to figure out his next move. He’d almost missed the gravel turn off from the highway, but spotted the narrow entrance at the last minute in the fading sunlight. At first he’d thought it might be a private entry to a distant house, but the farther he drove, he began to think it was just a long forgotten old road. The large trees bowed over the road superstitiously, causing Randy to feel uneasy. He’d never outgrown his fear of the forest, but he didn’t have the luxury of being choosy. With the police hot on his trail, he needed somewhere secluded to hideout until things settled down. He decided to pullover so he could gather his thoughts.
By Robin Edwards5 years ago in Fiction
Broadside
Broadside Silver, dark, custed-up, ancient ashtrays needed to make a comeback. Hot rods needed to make a comeback. Cram soared along the empty highway, pushing 130. One of the benefits of being in this county for his entire life was that he knew when and where the porkos would be. If a serial killer ever figured out their simple and unrefined routines of Milligan and his bootlickers, there’d be a lot of bodies piling up. Fuck, they wouldn’t even notice unless the person was a) white, b) an attractive woman, and c) someone they knew.
By Leif Conti-Groome5 years ago in Fiction
The Blood of the Pig
It was crimson. Wet. Bubbling. Warm. It still haunts me, even to this day. Every time I close my eyes, I see it. I feel its heavy, dense air weighing down on me. I feel it stuck in my hair. I taste its stench, stuck in the shadows of my nostrils after all these years.
By Patrick Poulin5 years ago in Fiction
For Riley
I love my little sister. Riley is innocent, caring, and the smartest seven year old girl I ever knew. Then again, I’m only thirteen and don’t have many friends that are my sister’s age. My older brother, Ryan, is a junior in high school and always pretends to be too cool to hang out with his middle school brother or kindergarten aged sister. The only time that he’s willing to spend time with us, or at least be in each other’s presence, is when all of us go to our old family barn once a month and his girlfriend, Eileen, gets to tag along. I don’t mind her though because she sometimes brings us cookies from the shop she worked at in the mall. "Here's your box of cookies, Corey!" She would hand over and I would gladly take.
By Daniel Silva5 years ago in Fiction
BLUE KIA SOUL
Life is simple. Complicated, is an excuse people use to pretend like they know what the hell they're talking about. "You wouldn't understand, it's complicated." They say. Well I beg to differ. You see, unlike most I came from nothing. I don't mean mommy-and-daddy-can't-afford-the-next-gen-console version of nothing. I came from literal nothing, as in must-be-nice-to-have-a-ceiling-during-the-winter nothing. One phrase that I would hear over and over again is that "money can't buy happiness". Well, you know what can buy happiness? Plumbing, hot water and a working stove. In some countries these are called utilities. Do you know what buys utilities? Money. Some would argue that it's more complicated than that, however I would avoid arguing with an idiot. I went from nothing to something, chaos to order, anger to happiness. Until the year of 2022.
By Carpe Breeze5 years ago in Fiction
See You Soon
If you’re reading this, I’m dead. Kicked the bucket, bought the farm. Go ahead and lay a couple of big old silver dollars over my eyes, ‘cause I ain’t coming back. I had a good life and I ain’t complaining, I’m telling you so you can prepare yourself for what’s to come.
By Miller Atlas5 years ago in Fiction
The Old Chancey Barn
“Have you heard? They say someone moved into the old Chancey house. Seen a lot of odd lights down by the old barn.” Hanging around the corner diner in Monroe, the old timers of the town spent their day discussing events of interest. In such a small town, such events were rare, and often times a topic of interest long outlived the amount of attention it deserved. When Frank brought up this newest topic, in the midst of a repeat discussion of the lack of good fishing places since the power plant upstream started up, no one had any real objections, as it was indeed time for something new.
By Travis Pittman5 years ago in Fiction
