Mystery

The Damned Sky
The woman woke up to the feeling of soft, cold snow falling on her cheek. As she opened her eyes, the world around her blazed and burned a brilliant titanium white. Faint memories danced through her mind, pirouetting like the snowflakes around her as they fell out of her consciousness, melting away. She remembered a warm hand on her face, a gentle kick in her stomach, laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. She recalled the stars at night, a voice whispering lovingly in her ear, the smell of champagne on their breath. Everything felt hazy though, like she was looking at memories in the distance through frosted glass – why couldn’t she see them clearly? As she shifted, the cold of winter setting into her bones, she began to stand up and dust the flakes off her blue shirt. Standing straight up brought at painful thump to her head and she winced, reaching up to her temple. When she withdrew her hands, she noticed her fingertips came back sticky and dark – a copper smelling ooze stuck to them.
By Miranda Mariana Maloy 4 years ago in Fiction
The Phones On The Other Side
The phone rings It rings…and rings…and rings, the sound so shrill so never-ending the poor girl had no choice but to awaken. But to awaken to what exactly? For the girl had no clue where she was except that she had seemed to have awoken in a rotting corner of what seemed to be a rotten room.
By Caitlin Evelyn 4 years ago in Fiction
Elvis and Friend
Elvis and Friend Reading the obituaries. Who knew how rewarding it could be? “Would you like a cup of tea Mr. Greene? It’s a nice Irish blend. Very tasty and relaxing.” The old ladies voice broke Frankie Dobbs’ reverie.
By Michael J DuBois4 years ago in Fiction
The Moons Pearl
All alone, far across the ocean, on a small, palm fringed island lived an old man. He’d been shipwrecked there for many years, and had long since given up hope of being found.
By Chris Thompson4 years ago in Fiction
In My Head
Where should I start? Should I start at the beginning, or should I get to the good part? I never know where to start.
By Irene Nunez4 years ago in Fiction
Heartless
Being an officer, my good friend Detective Griffin allowed me to follow along with him on a big case he was investigating. As he headed to the crime scene, I was able to tag along.
By T.S.4 years ago in Fiction
Crystill Clear
The sun is smiling, and thin clouds are doing a lazy dance across the vast baby blue ocean that is the sky. The inspiration for the clouds’ dance has sent forth a cool breeze that brushes against an unfamiliar face. Crystill, an up and coming rockstar who had just come to town the day before smiles at this caress on her cheek. Just like the days she would relax on the beach by the water, she turns around to look. Only instead of the ocean waves, she’s met with green grass and instead of sand between her toes, she is standing on stage. The town Bethel is secluded from society and has only a few residents, however they do have a remarkable outdoor stage. It appears to be brand new, as it glistened from top to bottom. The name of her newest song, “Crystill Clear” was obviously the main influence for how the stage was decorated. It had Four large floor to ceiling pillars made of linked clear crystals, which became increasingly frosted as it neared the bottom and were supposedly frozen to the floor. Crystill inspected the stage wondering which materials they used to build it, while her sister, Carmen set up the sound system.
By Kalla Lavender4 years ago in Fiction
The last girl
“The world is fated…” She looked out over the pond and imagined herself being able to be a single drop of water. Nancy was also wondering what she was doing in the middle of Oregon with her boyfriend Oz -- short for Oscar; which is obviously ridiculous as a nickname because just using your name is shortsighted and… her thoughts were interrupted by the thrashing sounds of Oz struggling with the cords he had crudely wrapped around the wood he had gathered.
By David Parra4 years ago in Fiction
The death letter
Psewhhhhh...... a terrible sound came from Mr. Smith's office. Mrs. Smith rushed to the office in no time. But what she was not absolutely prepared about what she saw. His husband was groaning as he was shot in his neck. Mrs. Smith somehow catches him before he fell on the ground. But it was too late for Mr. Smith. He just said, “Take care of yourself please” and left the world. Mrs. Smith burst into tears. Police was called.
By Tanvir Rashik Shafim 4 years ago in Fiction
Cold Falls the Rain
From the window in her room upstairs, the girl had a near perfect view of the little churchyard just across the way. She could easily see over its iron-spiked and rusted fencing and count the gravestones if she wished, right up to the ones that disappeared around the corner of the old church building. Most days, she could also see the little gravedigger. Most days, rain or shine, if there was work to be done, he would be the one to do it. Rain or shine, a stooped little man with a stooped and shuffling gate and a grim disposition as palpably cold as the earth he shifted. There he would be, cigarette in his mouth and shovel in his hand...digging, digging away.
By M4 years ago in Fiction
Who Was She
She looked like she didn't know what to do, so I took control of the situation. "Hello," I said with a faint smile on my face, even though it hurt me more than anything to smile. I was nauseated, my head was spinning, and the only thing I wanted to do was to close my eyes and curl up.
By Irina Patterson4 years ago in Fiction
The Manacled Magician
He woke up screaming again. The bracelets locked on his wrists burned like iced iron, and he could feel the spell tapped into his magic channels like hot needles under the skin. Every time he moved, the sensations shifted - now at his fingertips, now at his knees, wherever his thoughts and focus strayed, the pain followed. Like a viper attached to his thoughts, it would bite wherever his mind's eye looked.
By Meredith Harmon4 years ago in Fiction