thriller
Back Breath
There was only one rule: don’t open the door. The stale smell of the barbecue grill stays with me as I drive home. There are a few pieces of chicken left on my jolly green apron and some dried up crusty barbecue sauce. Molecules of fun memories stick to my nose from that smoky Irish pub restaurant my friends and I work at. We had a long night at work busing tables, chatting with friends and keeping up the fast pace.
By Tony Martello2 years ago in Fiction
Roulette Russe. Content Warning.
Midnight. Spinning the chamber, my doubts must have been amplified by the tense expression on my face, though I tried to disguise my disquiet. I thrust the barrel end against my temple, looking my antagonist directly in the eye. I squeezed the trigger – CLICK!
By Raymond G. Taylor2 years ago in Fiction
Sixty for Sixty . Content Warning.
The stage lights spear my eyes as the platform rises. The sea of faces cheer, jeer, heckle, and chant. Across the way, I hear the whir and groaning gears of the opposite platform like some rising beast. Then I see him. The disheveled man across from me has a bleak emptiness in his eyes.
By Kenneth cruz2 years ago in Fiction
He Follows
Tick. Tick. Tick. Kaitlyn cringed as the loud sound echoed in her ears. She watched the clock above her, anxiety rising as the second hard ticked. Her leg jigged up and down as her eyes darted around the abandoned baggage claim area. Only her suitcase was missing. Just hers.
By Emilie Turner2 years ago in Fiction
Bunker Blues
Deep in the underground nuclear-hardened bunker in Colorado, Clark Matthews and his chief advisors stared, enrapt. The lines denoting flight paths arced across the ocean toward the heartland. Who could have foreseen that China would take advantage of the conflict between the U.S., Europe, and Russia in such a horrific way?
By Andrew C McDonald2 years ago in Fiction
Wheat
6:03P.M The collision was horrendous and loud. Rosalie tried to force Clement to stop the Jeep by punching his bicep and trying to turn the steering wheel hard to the right. The dangerous attack on her father only made her fall back into the passenger seat as the Jeep violently veered back to the left.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Minute
"60...59...58..." As Wesley Forsberg was crawling on the floor gasping for air, he heard a countdown hovering over him. He knew that he had about a minute left in this world, and he wasn't the only one who knew it. The person hovering over Wesley counting down the seconds also knew it, and it was someone very familiar to him: his wife, Josephine Roman.
By Clyde E. Dawkins2 years ago in Fiction
A Mental Minute
In the echoing silence of the downtown library, I stood between aisles of books, arranging the spines that told tales far less bizarre than what I was about to encounter. As the clock above the entrance ticked towards closing time, a man burst through the double doors, his eyes darting nervously around the room.
By VNessa Erlene2 years ago in Fiction
