Mystery

When I Meet the Gods
When I meet the Gods I will scream, for I have a lot to say - Why did you deal me cards filled with sorrow and pain? Anger and fear? Obscurity and sadness? Is it because I am strong enough to carry something so heavy? Or because I am emotionally weak and deeply needed teaching? What lessons have I learnt? That you have abandoned humanity out of fear of your own creation. You left us in the dark to rot with no guidance nor hope. Now you return proclaiming salvation; to save us from ourselves, from our vices. Demanding devotion and loyalty as if it has been earned. To your shock and horror, you have to face the consequences of your neglect. What deals and secrets that have been born in the dark, are thriving and shining under your gaze. This is the world you have all created, although not intended. The effect of this chaos has sprung opportunities tainted with deceit and moral corruption. We have lost ourselves to the darkness of the grand illusion which we have all blindly walked into a life built upon lies, and you let that happen!
By Rosie J. Sargent4 years ago in Fiction
A Home of Secrets (Night One)
Chapter 1 Rosella The last safe place. As I looked out the tinted window, I spotted a cluster of children outside the surrounding wall. My eyes narrowed as I laid eyes on their frightful faces. Almost every child looked petrified. I suppose they had the right to be as they were now alone—with little to no family, standing outside an unfamiliar place. However, it wasn’t time yet so I continued to make sure things were ready. Pushing myself off the rustic wooden bench, I started walking downstairs.
By barb! <34 years ago in Fiction
2 of us
I ran and ran and ran and ran and ran. The burning in my legs begging me to stop, the sweat starting to coat my body seeping through my clothes. The smile of crazy on my face...the blood staining my fingers, but the adrenaline...the rush. I couldn't stop even If I wanted to.
By Vaeh moten4 years ago in Fiction
Dry-Bones
“The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.” Fletcher cleared his throat, lowered his voice and raised his eyebrows. “Take caution Fletcher, and pick your words wisely, we are camping with our kids.” Emma half joking, half serious, called out to her husband over the smoky coals. “Kids, see that cabin, the one in the wooded area, that cabin?” Fletcher stood up pointing through the woods to a flickering light in the window. “This is where you are sleeping tomorrow. Come out, come out wherever you are little Jack.” Fletcher pulled down a blanket that covered all three of his children. Little Jack let out a dreadful squeal. He jumped up and ran like the wind, hurdling over anything and everything in his way. Jack reached his tent turning around only to sing, “Na-na na-na boo-boo, you can’t catch me.” Little Jack stuck out his tongue as he zipped up the tent, sealing himself in for the night. “One down, two to go.” Fletcher counted as he scooped up Ellie and Lilie. The baby girls voices were faint from screaming, laughing and shrieking. Fletcher and Emma had a battle on their hands. First unzipping little Jack’s tent, second getting the children to sleep through the night. “Little Jack please, what will it take for you to let the twins in.” His mother asked in a loving whisper. “Don’t start negotiating with him Emma, just unzip it.” Fletcher directed her, as he pilled fresh logs on the fire. “There is an ethical debate, between government and state, should you negotiate with terrorist.” Little Jacks response floated through the air leaving an uneasy feeling. “If you want your iPad buddy boy, you better let your sisters and cousins in there, and out of this cold night air.” Emma used her voice of authority and her only power against little Jack, technology. Slowly the tent zipper came down. The sinister grin on little Jack’s face should have foreshadowed the evil to come. Once the adults had all tucked their children in, Emma poured some much needed adult beverages. Reed, Emma’s brother, held a glass up high to toast their long overdue vacation and family time together. “To all the little terrorist sleeping, the way to get a child to sleep, is the same as stopping hostage-taking, take away their incentive, iPads and iPhones people. Cheers to you Emma, iPads, and our children.” Wails of laughter filled the night, along with more ghost stories and silly bantering.
By Wren4 years ago in Fiction
Candles and Ghost Lore
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. "That's weird." He said looking at the old trapping cabin in the clearing as they passed.
By Michael Gimera4 years ago in Fiction
The Reducers
"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window." Sarah couldn’t figure out what possessed her to come here in the middle of the night. Something drew her in. It was the overwhelming urge to find out what happened to her sister. There is nothing left to fear if the worst has already happened. At least, that’s what she would like to believe. So when she heard a voice call out to her in her sleep, she had to act. It only occurred to her now, that perhaps, she should not have done so without concern for her own safety.
By Ghostface Writer4 years ago in Fiction
VOID
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Seeing the candle wick burn brightly, she cautiously approaches the cabin window in a zombie-like daze, staring at the dim candle flame as it flickers in an amber-lit brilliance. Beverly places her hand on the dirt ridden pane of glass, which remained moist with condensation, still eying the dimly lit candle; she acts akin to a moth as the flame is the only light in this ungodly forest, save for the moon’s blueish tinted aura. Then she realizes:
By Leonel Ortega-Valdez4 years ago in Fiction
The Call
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. For as long as the people of the small town of Rock Hill could remember, the quaint little home sat mysteriously within the forest, now splintered and bleeding with a blackened mold as thick as dried pine sap. As the howl of the wind passed through the cracks of the walls, it produced a horrible cry, but the flame remained still; perhaps it was more of a force than flame, calling anyone who desired something more toward it. Local children often found interest in its ominous presence but never entered, fearing only what their imaginations could construct. Years ago, a man whose body was never recovered allegedly vanished into the forest. Some thought that he was taken but found no trace of evidence to support the theory. A legend began to spread that one night, he gazed intensely into the forest from his bedroom window. It was as if his gaze could pierce the thicket, allowing him to understand the entirety of its grandeur. Something called him, something that even he couldn't see yet was powerful enough to pull him in with immeasurable inducement.
By Jeffrey A. Sapp 4 years ago in Fiction
The Storm-Dark Sea
Anatoly didn't like her. Nobody on the boat precisely liked Sharley, but most of them were merely ambivalent about her. She was the only woman on the boat, and she spoke very little Russian, so she mostly kept to herself. She was in charge of the engines, so they rarely saw her topside unless they hit a big catch and needed all the hands they could get. Even then she kept to herself, ignoring the cursing and aggravation of the others as they dealt with tangled nets and a deck made ice-slick by too many fish. Not once did she join in; she worked in silence, with tidy efficiency, dealing with all that must be dealt with before escaping back to her engine room like a ghost.
By Stevie Barry4 years ago in Fiction
By the Campfire
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The robbers approached cautiously. It had been a long march through the woods after they escaped with the money. No movement. No sound except water dripping from the eaves and the leaves of nearby trees. They checked the windows before they crept closer to the door. Bill opened the door slowly and peered in. Seeing nothing, he moved back slowly then pushed the door open quickly. Stillness. Nothing moved. There were no tracks in the soft ground near any of the windows or the door from whoever had lit the candle. Another storm approached. Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed. The rain would erase their tracks, so whoever followed them would lose their trail soon. The cabin was empty. Whoever lit the candle was nowhere to be seen. They decided to take shelter in the cabin for the night.
By Thomas Durbin4 years ago in Fiction
Dad's Cabin
"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window." That was the message that was left on my phone one night. It was the Sheriff of the county why the heck up north where my Dad started building a cabin back in the 50's but never finished. The Sheriff said they were just out doing what they do I guess, and drove by the cabin and saw a light. No one has been up there in years. My Mom was just talking about selling the land. The Sheriff said he didn't see anyone around it but that we should come up and investigate. Really? Isn't that your job? But my husband said, "what the heck, it's not that late, it's Friday and we have the weekend, let's go. Plus I've never been there".
By Lynn Ericksen Lane4 years ago in Fiction
The Well-Spring - Chapter 2
Link to Chapter 1: Morning Song CHAPTER 2 - The Clearing Alana opened her eyes to the sound of locust chirping and the cool dampness of dusk. Her skin was already moist from the tiny droplets of dew that covered the ground and surrounding foliage. A chill from the ground beneath her seeped slowly through her clothes and into her back. Conflicting with the cool sensation was a warmth that radiated from the top of her head. Lazily she reached up and found Sebastian curled around her head. She smiled to herself realizing that he must have found her while she napped that afternoon. Alana gazed up at the sky, still flat on her back, and witnessed the dawning of the night sky. Each new star, like pinpricks through paper added light and beauty to the night.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Fiction