Mystery
'Til Death Do Us Part (EP. 2)
Clean-up. She'd known they were watching her, but to have proof of it made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. If a jury ever asked, she would deny it tooth and nail, but, Casey's decision to end her husbands life had been researched and planned for months. Funneling the money to pay clean-up and covertly buy a gun had been a challenge, but she'd been a grim mix of determined and hollow. Trenton Baites hadn't deserved to live. And even though she'd convinced herself that her cause was noble, right now she felt anything but.
By Danicia Lee-Hanford4 years ago in Fiction
Take me home
Once upon a time, long ago, there was an old lady who lived in a house with two dogs. Her name was Lily and she had three sons and two daughters. She was very happy and her house was full of wonderful things. One day, she decided that one of them should go to the river and fetch water for her. The only problem is, they all were too young. So she made them promise that if one person went, the others would look out for him . They all agreed so she sent the youngest one off. He walked for three days until he reached a lake. There he saw someone. He thought it might be his brother but then again, it could not have been because he came alone. It must have been some trick, a mistake… maybe a hallucination. But then he heard someone say “Come with me” and he couldn’t help himself. He followed the voice and after walking along for many miles, he found himself at the edge of a large forest. He didn’t know what to do. Should he go through or try to make his way back? He looked around him for guidance. Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. When he turned, he gasped. There was a man sitting on top of a rock in a black cloak. His hair was white as snow and his eyes were grey and cold. He held out his hand. ‘ I will take you home’ he said.
By Fiction 'Ai' Writer4 years ago in Fiction
'Til Death Do Us Part (EP. 1)
The fitted sheet had uncurled itself from around the mattress again. Methodically, she reached over and tucked it back into place, smoothing the invisible wrinkles and creases with a stiff, trembling hand. The cold golden circlet sat heavily on her finger. Casey raised her arms slowly above her head, stretching forward and back to rid her body of the aches and quivers that she always seemed to have in the morning. They’re stronger today. Is it fear? Rage? Horror? She seems calmer as she settles into a routine, deep, slow breathing is the only human sound in the room as she straightens bedclothes, thumps the dents from sinfully soft pillows, and picks up clothes that had been strewn across the floor. Five years ago, on this day, she’d risen and done the same thing. The morning after her wedding. So much has changed since then.
By Danicia Lee-Hanford4 years ago in Fiction
The Invite
There was a secret meeting tomorrow night and she absolutely had to be there. The invitation had been left on her dining room table the night before, a small calling card with a Raven printed on the front and an address on the back with small words written ‘Be there at 7 p.m.’ She had been waiting for this moment. Secretly hungering for the day that she would be accepted into the world that she had always felt to be on the fringe of. She was a small-time writer, a blogger who wrote on the lives of others, examining their lives to find justification for hers. She had a small following, but nothing that would get her listed in the Oprah Book Club or talking to Ellen in front of hundreds of adoring fans.
By Rose Loren Geer-Robbins4 years ago in Fiction
Myth of a monster
This isn’t a story of a spoilt Prince who got everything he wanted. Despite the extravagant parties, golden laced suits and rooms filled with silver, the prince danced with hollow people. He listened to the same strained laughs, saw the same fake smiles, and witnessed the same false happiness. Surrounded by thousands of people, he had never felt more alone.
By Jane Wheeler4 years ago in Fiction
"One Must Die"
On a moonless, pitch-black night, a black enameled carriage drawn by four black horses pulled up quietly to a quay in the Southampton dockyards. It was met by five men: four burly dockhands who didn’t say a word, and a surprisingly sturdy, well-dressed fellow, tall and muscular with a hungry look in his eyes.
By David White4 years ago in Fiction
