Horror
The Pen
Ara stared at the floor of the van as it rattled along, the rough road making all the prisoners’ chains swing ominously. Ara noticed that the prisoner in front of her had on flip flops. Flip flops are the only shoe named for the sound they make, she thought to herself.
By Caitlin Christopher5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Good One
The Last Good One Casey Jean is her name and honestly, I’ve never met someone so absolutely broken. She’s more devoid of emotion than the rock I watched her use to smash in a wild goats skull so we could eat. Humanity went to hell about 8 years ago now, this virus came along and well, let’s just say the human population hasn’t exactly been on the up and ups. So yes, I did watch her murder a goat, but she’s not a monster.
By Michael Adams5 years ago in Fiction
The Bonfire
Dr. Nathanial Barnes, I write to you now in hopes that you might triumph where I have failed. My name is Dr. Samuel Montgomery, and I am the last living member of the Arclight research team. I have pieced this account, together from my own recollection and firsthand accounts from those who were there at the time. I write this being of sound mind and body, under no duress other than by the consequences of my own actions. It is getting colder now, and my cough is getting worse but it is my mind I fear the virus will take before I can finish this writing. I pray, this will find you while there is still time. We can go back, back to the beginning, I remain confident of that much.
By Dick Sampson5 years ago in Fiction
After the World Ends
I can tell you what happened after the world ends but not the before, not what caused it. I’m not sure if anyone can tell you what actually caused the world to end; whether it was some global government experiment gone awry, radioactive solar flares, or if Mother Earth just got sick of our shit and decided to kill off the human race. I was just a child when it happened, so I don't recall much. I do remember there was screaming though, so much screaming and so, so much blood.
By Lisa Ellis5 years ago in Fiction
Heart City
The air grew thick, on a warm summer night, with the scent of a world long forgotten. A man and his dog search the nearby forest for a safe place to get some rest, after a long day of foraging. They stumble upon an old, broken down vehicle, and decided to take shelter in the backseat. The man, with his faithful companion at his side, exhales a sigh of relief as he settles in. He feeds his dog the last scraps of food they have, and then bows his head for a prayer, uncertain of what the next day may bring.
By Zachary M. Cain (Creative/Copy Writing)5 years ago in Fiction
Revenants
Day 1 (March 13th, 2023) I never believed in ghosts or spirits, but I had no more say in that matter. The day it happened was like any normal Tuesday afternoon. I had just returned from work at a McDonalds with a freshly poured Coke staining my new jeans. I groaned and tried to forget the hell that was fast food service by throwing those jeans in the laundry basket and washed myself off with a hot shower, both to cleanse the sticky soda as well as the stress of the day. I was on YouTube mindlessly watching whatever I had on my recommended at the time. A video of ghost hunters who would go to supposedly “haunted” areas, such as old mansions, abandoned hospitals, and even Alcatraz Island. I had always found the practice of ghost hunting interesting. It reminded me of that old cheesy movie that Bill Murray starred in. I received an warning on my phone. The beep of the emergency broadcast system was about as welcomed as nails scratching a chalk board. I decided to ignore it as most of the time it was just a test anyways, but it kept going off. I grew suspicious. I picked up the phone and was curious to see what the notification was about. It had said “Do Not Leave Your Home”. I was skeptical, why should I stay inside?
By Christian B Harris5 years ago in Fiction
The Doomsday Locket
Day 16 In The Dark Apocalypse Fifteen days ago the world collapsed. One moment it’s peaceful, the next corruption. Corruption became lawlessness, then lawlessness became anarchy. The Doomsday Locket protected everyone from the darkness that brought about the end of the human race as we knew it.
By Brandon Nephew5 years ago in Fiction
Hearts For Heros
Hearts For Heroes Mayor Joie Jones of Seversville, Tennessee sits in her darkened office anxiously awaiting Admiral “Tony” Lamonte and building inspector, Joey Kennedy only hours after a barrage of EMPs going off over 10 of America’s largest cities leaves the country in devastation as it’s 3 grids go down and the country experiences an almost apocalyptic blow to its infrastructure. The State sponsored attack claimed by I.S.I.S. is a masterstroke of synchronized destruction.
By marcia sherrill5 years ago in Fiction
I Killed Them All
The cold sweeps around me tossing my hair as I sit in this wasteland. Corpses litter the ground around me with their haunting disfigured faces. The faces of human and beasts alike. Oh, how I envy them. They remember nothing. Not how the blood pour from their nose and eyes, how when we realized the chemical warfare it was all too late, the chaos that took over. Friends and family you have known your whole life became enemies infected. Mayhem took us over and separated us, turn us into animals. A shiver cross over me. Those are the things that you are glad is over. The memories before the world turned to shit. “Can’t think about that” I say aloud to myself.
By Marisa Hamby5 years ago in Fiction
Discivilization and Its Contents
It was a leaning in three layers—the world, the city, and its people, all dripping with the weight of household objects in a late-career Van Gogh, sighing as they sunk down and out, eyes and windows and oceans glazed over, caught atop the languid shore between waking nightmare and fevered dream of home. And in another age the people would have fled from underneath the city’s towers, saving children and a few old photographs before they ran to gaze as their cubed homes collapsed; now they’re just too tired. The buildings settle in their abject comforts as they loom, unwilling to let go and fall; the people wander ‘round beneath the shadows, unseeing of the flames and nose blind to the slowly melting steel, trapped inside the warm geometries of youth they conjure in their heads. And of course the world itself falls to the past’s seduction, a romance green and tendrilled overtaking what was built.
By Xander Fuhrer5 years ago in Fiction
Ouroboros
A picture speaks a thousand truths; this picture spoke one truth in particular: a photograph can steal a man’s soul. The photograph of concern rested within a patinated locket molded to the shape of a heart; an illegal symbol that once represented Love, corrupting over millennia by the tides of war to adapt a reputation associated with Satan. Faustus knew the other divers would confiscate the relic if they saw it. He impulsively shut off the camera logging his mission, looking around to see if anyone was looming, surmising he was the only officer frequenting that part of the skyscraper. The photograph casually floated out of its casing and hovered before him. Upon closer inspection, although only shadows remained, Faustus realized that the heart-shaped photograph showcased a portrait of the most beautiful woman he had ever witnessed. As he reached for it, the motion of his lifting hand sent a gust of minutiae flipping the photograph onto its opposing side, revealing a set of numbers that he noticed were coordinates he somewhat recognized. Four numbers underlying the set were completely foreign to him. He began to quietly cite the numbers as the paper softly dissolved into a cloud of withered shreds.
By Brandon Leiner5 years ago in Fiction
