Mystery
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not. Top Story - May 2023.
He only loved me on some days. Sometimes for weeks at a time. Sometimes for months. Sometimes only a few moments. ~ It was a Friday afternoon, the kind accompanied by a wild Spring breeze, the smell of blooming flowers and the triumphant feeling of making it through another week of boring monotonous nine to five work.
By Karissa E.L. Cuff3 years ago in Fiction
Rule #1: The Doctor Lies
The Bohemian Health Institute was a privately owned hospital in Northern California. It was a haven for the people in the surrounding community who couldn’t afford healthcare. The institution was nestled above Greenwood State Beach, an ideal location for patients to feel inspired and hopeful while going through treatment. The owner was an empathetic woman who understood that the medical monopolies of the world took advantage of the less fortunate. She was a wealthy entrepreneur who accepted patients that were less fortunate. As long as they needed help, Bohemian would never turn their backs on them.
By Peter Wynn3 years ago in Fiction
Don't Ever Visit This Island
Imagine a sandy beach on a remote Hawaiian island. It's surrounded exclusively by a warm ocean and untouched nature. There are only a few hundred local residents on the island, but you will hardly meet them. Would you like to spend your vacation there? Well, I'll disappoint you. It's the island of Niihau, and it's been closed off from the rest of the world for more than 150 years.
By Corey Turner3 years ago in Fiction
Ghosts From the Past Ch. 1
Caz woke suddenly, sitting straight up in his bed. He reached up, wiping sweat from his forehead. Another nightmare, which was already fading from his mind. At one point in his life, these were a common occurrence. Now though, he couldn’t remember the last time he had one. He reached over and grabbed his phone to check the time. ‘03:23’ showed on the screen. Well, it’s not like I’m going to be able to fall back to sleep thought Caz. He swung his legs out of the blankets and over the bed and stood up. He pulled on some sweats and a t-shirt and walked over to start a pot of coffee. As the coffee pot made its ritual noises while warming up, Caz began his daily workout. He started off by stretching and waking up his muscles, jump rope, push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, then more stretching. He ended by taking 5 complete cycles of controlled breathing.
By K.F. Wheeldon3 years ago in Fiction
The Begining
It was a crisp November morning, the sun had not yet managed to penetrate through the stubborn cloud cover, so shadows still clung to the corners of the house. The grounds were scarce in stark contrast with the overbearing manor, it’s dark stone walls, gothic windows and spindly towers making a bold statement in the little wood clearing. Tall oaks bereft of leaves bordered the property, their long branches reaching out towards the manor as if the forest were trying to reclaim its rightful land. Leaves hung around the base of the trees, their colors muted by weeks of neglect and decay. A short, portly woman hurried up the path following the crumbling stone wall that led up to the old manor. Her skirts tangling around her legs in the strong late autumn breeze. Though even the wind was unable to move a single strand of hair in her stubbornly tight bun.
By Claire Jones3 years ago in Fiction
Ghosts From the Past Ch. 4
Caz’s mind was spinning as he walked his way back to Heidi’s desk. Any hope that his and Jackson’s shared past wasn’t connected to this case was gone. He needed to get some more information before talking to the Captain though. Once the administration found out, he would likely be pulled from the case.
By K.F. Wheeldon3 years ago in Fiction
Ghosts From the Past Ch. 3
Red and blue lights flashing in the fog only allowed Caz to see the chaotic shifting of silhouettes as they swarmed toward the house he lived in. Even being on the second story, he couldn’t see enough to gauge how many of the trespassers had come. All the lights in the house were on, everyone was running back and forth shouting. He heard footsteps coming toward his door and turned in time to see it swing inward. It was Papa, he was out of breath as if he had been running. There was a rifle slung on his shoulder and a long-bladed knife tucked into his belt.
By K.F. Wheeldon3 years ago in Fiction
