Mystery
BULLET
Why was I on this train? Where was it going? When would it stop? Who AM I??? A deluge of questions rattled around in the man's mind as he struggled to consciousness. To get a look at his own reflection in the mirror, his disheveled, clean-shaven appearance made him appear to be in his mid-forties. He fished around in his jacket pocket for...anything.
By Kent Brindley3 years ago in Fiction
Like Clockwork
He awoke with a splitting headache and a gun in his hand. The cylinder of the revolver was freed, revealing one round already spent. He lay slumped between two large wooden crates. He could see shelves against the other wall, not far away. They were filled with metal boxes and various tools scattered about. He was stuffed between the crates like a dirty rag someone had tried to hide instead of washing. There was a light rattling, a constant noise that seemed to repeat on an endless loop. It did his head no favors. He latched the cylinder back into place.
By EJ Baumgardner3 years ago in Fiction
Absolute Uncertainty On The Train
The sound of rapid metallic banging coupled with Bishop being flung to his right and slamming his head into a window… what a way to wake up. Pain seethes through Bishop’s temple. He grimaces and rubs his head. One of the joys of getting older. Bishop often falls asleep without planning on it, which results in waking up in alerted and urgent ways. Can’t be great for the heart.
By Stephen Kramer Avitabile3 years ago in Fiction
Mystery at the Odds Village
Mystery at the Odds village The Odds village has always been thriving with a diligent community. Tourists swarming around, streets glowing clean, pleasantly structured houses, waters, and mountains surrounding it. It’s a classy and lovely place to live in. It looks just too perfect to be true, doesn’t it? It’s never quiet in the Odds village. It’s ironic because rural areas should be peaceful and relaxing, but not this one in particular. In such a chaotic countryside place, strange things can happen.
By Irina Ștefania R3 years ago in Fiction
The Long Run.
I am sure I fell asleep in a field. I am now on a train, I have no ticket, and this train appears to be going nowhere in particular. I rub my eyes, feeling certain I am still in a dream; though this does not feel like a dream, everything appears to be real. I touch my seat, and I can feel the cold leather on the skin of my hands. I run my fingers through my hair, feeling it tickle my hand as I do so. I pinch my skin, feeling the sharp sting of my fingernails as I do so.
By Carol Ann Townend3 years ago in Fiction
Me and my "little dislike"
zero Little Dislike is one of my toys. I'm the one who named it. Its official name is "Lego", which means happy and happy. It's my pet. People in the countryside are also called playyi, and people in the city are called Pang Wu. Although it does not have the characteristics of life, but it has the intelligence of life signs. I was surprised by its wisdom...
By Ivan A Jaramillo3 years ago in Fiction
MYSTERY EXPRESS
CHAPTER 1 Nadia woke up with a gasp as a loud noise split the silence of her slumber. Her cheeks pressed into the armrest of the seat she curled up on. She lunged forward but fell back as a splitting headache threatened to make her lose consciousness. Blinking to orient herself, she started looking around. There was a seat similar to the one she was on across her with a table in the middle. Where am I? She recalled that the sound that woke her was a train whistle. It continued to make a squeaking noise as it moved on the rail tracks.
By saadia abdi3 years ago in Fiction
A Ride to Remember
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. It became the backdrop to the midnight train's play, with each night a new story unfolding. The scenery below the clouds shifted like an old Viewmaster toy. It's film reel presenting a new world to explore with each winding of the plastic orange handle. Click, blackness. Click, mountain range. Click, blackness. Click, ocean. Click.
By Christina Hunter3 years ago in Fiction
