Microfiction
244 of 366 (2/3 through!): Death Unawareness
One in five dead people don't know they're dead. This is a startling statistic. Death Awareness, or specifically, recognition of the lack thereof, is a common affliction, making the living uneasy but the dead feel foolish.
By Gerard DiLeoabout a year ago in Fiction
I-Hero. Content Warning.
He was the first. And the worst. Killing was not something I was taught. But his insidious manipulations triggered something in everyone he targeted. When I first came upon him, I had no idea what his actions meant. But as I studied him, learnt, realization dawned; he was what Humans called ‘evil’.
By Rajkumarie Deviabout a year ago in Fiction
Wannabe Spidey
If I knew this would happen, I would have attended more parties. Even though my best friend's birthday party was unavoidable, I was still unsure about attending. Being the only person I truly talked to was reason to contemplate my presence, especially knowing that he would be the center of attention and, therefore, unavailable. To be honest, I always wanted to attend a theme party and this birthday theme was right up my alley. When James said I could come as my favourite superhero or villain, he knew my leg was halfway through the door, the other half was because I love my friend and hence my confirmation of attendance. He always joked I could be reincarnated as Spider-Man with the amount of knowledge and admiration I have for the webby hero and now I get to live a bit of the dream through my cosplay of the classic red and blue costume. Buying and constructing with the help of my cosplay extraordinaire sister, Lilian, created my custom but classic disguise with operational eyes in the mask. As I get to the party, I head to James to hand him my gift, ease my nerves, and prove that I really am here. I talk to other people for a bit, not that it is impossible, but I never have been interested. James prevented me from meeting him before the party to prevent me from possibly cancelling my attendance since I would be meeting him and showing up in my costume, and also to prevent me from talking only to him throughout the day. After some forced interactions, I head outside for some air, but as I head out, my head and eyes hurt. As the pain intensifies, I sense danger and hope I'm wrong, but seeing someone on the ground makes me hope I'm really wrong.
By Merritt Xavierabout a year ago in Fiction
Fenrirson
He arose from the depths of Hel with fur caked in fire and brimstone. Sharp yellow claws dug into the soft white snow while fresh blood, the same color of his eyes, dripping from his sharp fangs. He growled deeply as she stood on his hind legs. Claws grew into fingers as his fur receded into the follicles of his arms and legs that stretched as he stood tall. The moon glistened off of his glossy black hair and he ran his newly grown fingers through it, feeling the resemblance to his fur. A chill caught his bare skin, and he had the sudden urge to shake clumps of snow from his body, but any that had clung to him now lay in a heap at his now hairless feet. He was not prepared for the chill of the Norse forests and howled into the night sky with lungs that heaved in pain. None of those around him howled back, as they no longer recognized his sound. He growled and began running, trying to find a warmth that was now lost to him. There was anger in his deep red eyes while dark green pines blurred past him. A pack of wolves took chase, but there was no catching him. He was their brother, their savior, their father. He would say his name was Dainn, but those who knew the stories would know his true self. He was Fenrirson, the second coming of the dreaded wolf of Ragnarök.
By Gunnar Andersonabout a year ago in Fiction
Red Widow. Content Warning.
Red Widow used to be just a regular woman. She had hopes and dreams that involved her husband with a house and a white picket fence. They would have a family together. But then, her dreams were shattered the day there was a gas leak on their block.
By The Schizophrenic Momabout a year ago in Fiction
Previously.... Content Warning.
Part One The man slams his bloodied fist into my face again. I chuckle despite the pain from my messed-up jaw shooting down my spine. This is nothing I haven't faced before; Rebecca, our creator, puts me through a lot. I take it all with a smile, just like I've been designed to, though it would be nice if we got into the rescue part of things. Honestly, this is a 'been there, done that' kind of scenario and I'm bored.
By Alexandria Stanwyckabout a year ago in Fiction
