Mystery
A Bark
He had felt this bothering before. Before… everything. As a teenager he had worked as a carer in a low-cost nursing home for the elderly and demented, where the story of the ‘Grey Lady’; a name that failed to invoke excitement or imagination, went that if a resident were to die each day over three consecutive days, then a grey lady would be seen walking the halls at night and banging heard from the attic. He enjoyed ghost stories and while he never allowed for them to alter his strict scientific sense of reality, he always found it peculiar and a little wonderful how strong and visceral were their effect on him.
By Jack Van Rynen5 years ago in Fiction
7 minutes to Immortality
THE SYSTEM How the system came to be, can not be explained with words in a truthful form, this is due that the nature of language requires to establish concepts and put them in a logical time-lined binary order which make sense to humans, but have nothing to do with reality itself.
By Ruben Alejandro5 years ago in Fiction
The Break in the Clouds
To have such a break in the weather was unusual. Unique, even. It's far from the washed out greys and browns, dark shadows and shrouding mist that they were used to... But the stark reminder broke through the clouds. Light, not lightness, a break in persistent cloud cover that flooded their little piece of the world with brightness. The cacophony of engines rumbling and rock moving began to fall to idle and succumb to the rumble of a thousand whispers, as word spread through the worksite.
By Samuel Hill5 years ago in Fiction
Future in Heart
The colonization of Mars was supposed to advance the efforts of humankind. Instead, a plague of wrath infected Earth, decimating it. Society’s richest of the rich had always reigned supreme above the rest of us peasants. Even they didn’t see the turmoil they cast upon our planet in their insidious race to become the best.
By Michael Hernandez5 years ago in Fiction
A License To Kill
“What do we got here?” Kayla asked, walking through the front door of the dilapidated home. “Looks like your run-of-the-mill birthing house.” Lily said, examining the contents sprawled across the dining room table. “So far we’ve found faked licenses and falsified registration forms.” Lily picked up a stack of folders containing client details.
By Annette Schmidt5 years ago in Fiction
the Guilt of Blame
The air is a bit heavy and wet, the echo of my quick yet careful steps wanders before me and behind. My unstable looking fast-paced walk may concern a bystander. But I am far from worried. Submerged in a shapeless dark space, a place I have never seen and only have known as this. It soon became the focal point of my days, especially since I have been here on my own. Starting as a tunnel, quickly evolving into an endless mash of blinding silence and shadows within shadows. Alone yet far from lonely I take advantage of the vast space and expand as much as I possibly can. My mind grows exponentially, and my thoughts slow down due to the longer travel. I give up who I am, happily sending it to the unknown depths around. Never knowing whether everything comes back once I decide to return and fearless of the outcome. I would hardly notice any change and there is nobody else to tell me.
By Ondrej Zika5 years ago in Fiction
The Return
There was a house near the edge of the woods. Though the wooden perimeter fence had long since succumbed to the natural world, the house remained. Its squat, boxy walls were paneled with hardwood and the composite roof had been prefabricated decades prior. The silent years had not been kind to the structure, and that composite roof was collapsing inwards in sections, allowing shafts of midmorning light to strike through the crevices and corners in the wood, shattering the invisible relationship set between inside and outside. The paneled plywood floorings inside the walls were sick with rot, curling and peeling and molding as nature continued its time-redundant onslaught on this aging marker of human presence.
By Varun Mehta5 years ago in Fiction
Midnight Black Locket
In a locket as black as night there is a picture of four daughters and four sons with their mother. The mother (Diana) (21), Dad (unknown and/or dead), the oldest three sons Prison (5), Nine (5), Sea (5), the fourth son Fangs (4). The oldest two daughters Rose (2) and Rosepetal (2), the Third and fourth daughters Night (newborn) and Lily (newborn). “I miss you all so much,” Prison says, clutching the locket to his broken heart. Prison picks up his ax and heads out for wood and food.
By Allie and Emmy5 years ago in Fiction
Artefact of Love
Cherish hurries up the steps to the grey building. Her long brown hair, pulled back and centre parted, is soaking. She mounts the final step and is welcomed under the refuge of a concrete canopy. The pelting stops and she releases a puff of relief.
By Christel Ringelmann5 years ago in Fiction
