Mystery
our windowsill
“Run me through the plan again.” Crickets chirped softly as the two men huddled in the brush. Fireflies lingered in the muggy air, hanging on the humidity and slowly blinking through the heat. The third man that was with them stood tall, staring at the house a few hundred yards away. His weathered face was still and unreadable, his eyes cast in shadow under the brim of his hat.
By Molly Boozell4 years ago in Fiction
Little Flower. Content Warning.
Ponds freeze every year. They get cold enough and get solid. They get thick enough that kids and adults can run across them or skate. Hockey can even be played. Everyone in town loves it when the local fishing pond becomes the town's winter activity.
By Analesia Giammusso4 years ago in Fiction
The Night Bus
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The candle was surprisingly light and full of life - unlike its surroundings. The forest was dark and gloomy, and no one had been seen walking under their droopy boughs for decades. The cabin had likewise stood empty, for more years than anyone still living could say. That changed today. A mysterious figure was perched in the rocking chair on the front porch and he waited. He had always done this. He would always do this. He understood the simple truth about these woods. They were not of this earth, but somewhere entirely different.
By Liam Storm4 years ago in Fiction
Time to Pay
"27 years, and 256 days ago, this man", the speaker pointed to the Defendant, "committed his first of many crimes." The speaker turned to, and addressed the audience and jury of the room. "Murder was his crime, but he didn't just murder his victims, he defiled them, made them into something they weren't. Ranging from the years 1990-1994, this man murdered and defiled 13 young women." The speaker turned and faced the Defendant once more, and spoke directly to him, "He is a sick, and twisted individual and deserves to be put away for life, that was his sentence in his previous life, why should it be changed now?". Once again the Speaker turned to the audience and jury; "As we all well know, resurrection is real, and there is nothing we can do to stop criminals deliberately killing themselves and being reborn into another life. The man before you, in this life is known as Dylan Featherstone, however in his previous life he was known as John Wittle, aka the serial killer, John Cutter." Although the audience and jury knew what and who this hearing was about, they still took the time to have another look at the Defendant. He looked so young and, quite honestly, innocent. However, no matter how innocent he looked in this life, he must pay for the crimes he committed in the past life, otherwise those crimes would go unpunished, which in the eyes of the victims family's, and in the eyes of the Speaker, was not in question.
By Liam Storm4 years ago in Fiction
Life's A Vortex
I woke up to the blasting sirens in the midnight fog enclosing my house. Windows shaking, dog barking, dishes rattling. I thought an earthquake was going to swallow me whole. The fog was so thick I thought I would never make it to my outdoor bunker ready for the apocalypse we had all been preparing for. But who can really prepare for disaster such as this right? In the distance, I could hear Kendale shouting my name, so I told him to hurry before I seal the bunker door. Unbeknown to me, he came with an array of life threatening problems, I wasn't sure I'd live to tell my story.
By Jasmine Smith4 years ago in Fiction
Peasants.
Climbing up the wall, the pitter patter of my feet matched the rain. My crunchy hair was soaked in blood as I ran from the men. I threw myself against the wall once I was over it to catch myself. Flashes of red and screams crawled up my head only to make me petrified.
By Kaingaroo (He/They)4 years ago in Fiction
ALL BUT BLACK AND WHITE
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. This valley was roaming with happy people full of colourful events, and celebrations of all types. The king was perfect, young, handsome, kind, considerate, and above all, he was a king who loved and heard his people's concerns. But who can forever be happy? These kinds of things don’t last. Everything pretty comes to an end, and it wasn’t long till all that happiness was drained.
By Nadima Abdul-Karim4 years ago in Fiction
