thriller
The Legend of Long-Shanks. Top Story - October 2025.
Goody Patience had just laid her head upon the pillow when it happened. For a moment, she believed she were dreaming, so she rolled over and paid it no heed. Her eyes snapped open again the same second she closed them, however, when she heard it once more: a sharp knock-knock-knocking on the front door downstairs.
By Natalie Gray4 months ago in Fiction
When the Sun Didn’t Rise for 30 Days
When the Sun Didn’t Rise for 30 Days A Tale of Survival, Fear, and Hope in the Longest Night The sun is something most of us take for granted. We wake up with its first light, and we rest when it sets, knowing it will return the next morning without fail. But imagine a world where one day the sun doesn’t come back. Not for a few hours. Not for one long night. But for thirty days in a row.
By Farooq Hashmi4 months ago in Fiction
Thin Line. Honorable Mention in Parallel Lives Challenge.
TBL Fingers with dirty nails shook as they struggled to tie bloody boot laces. Officer Perty was unsure of how his boots had come untied in the interaction. Blue and red light flashed around him, and he felt dizzy, sick, inhuman. ‘What have I done?’, he asked himself as he stood and looked at the body, the very small body of the man—boy that he’d just shot. Blood pooled around the body slowly, shining in the moonlight, reflections of the red and blue lights danced on the liquid. There was a buzzing in Perty’s ears, a low hum of blood pulsing through his own veins. His head was spinning with a deep pain, and his whole body vibrated with anxiety. Someone slapped his shoulder.
By Raine Fielder4 months ago in Fiction
Keyhole Peeking. Top Story - October 2025. Content Warning.
Looking through a keyhole isn’t as cool as it looks in the movies. Right now, I’m looking through the keyhole of my neighbor’s room. Normally I wouldn’t be doing this. Since it really violates other people’s privacy. But an hour ago I heard something from the room. At first it wasn’t all that loud. Sounded like soft sobbing. It’s almost as if someone was trying to not be heard crying.
By Raphael Fontenelle4 months ago in Fiction
The Holy American Empire
Relief came first. For the first time in weeks, trucks rolled across Mexico’s highways carrying sacks of grain, barrels of fuel, crates of medicine stamped with the seal of the Empire. Markets opened cautiously, lights flickered back to life in the cities, and families wept as refrigerators hummed again. The blockade was over.
By Logan M. Snyder4 months ago in Fiction
Tenant. Winner in A Knock at the Door Challenge.
Knock, knock. I came to. Unaware that I had even drifted off. Was that knock real or had I dreamed it? The rain played the evening’s soundtrack. Calm. The clock said twelve, but it always said that. It’d decided who it was.
By Kristen Keenon Fisher4 months ago in Fiction
The Holy American Empire
“Good evening, Mr. President. I’ll be quick. I want the blockade over just as much as you do,” Emperor Kane said, an unexpected note of empathy softening his voice. “I know your people are hungry, your hospitals are running out of fuel for their generators, and your citizens are beginning to turn on you. I don’t want them to suffer anymore. I want them to be my people. Agree to a full, unconditional surrender of Mexico. The blockade will be lifted, my engineers will restore power, and we will deliver food and medicine. You will be allowed to live out the rest of your days in Mexico as well.”
By Logan M. Snyder4 months ago in Fiction
Carnival Carney
The Midway Amusement Park in Willow Creek, Ohio, was a relic of better days, its rusted roller coasters and faded carnival tents glowing under LED lights that promised more than they delivered. It was 2027, and the world was drunk on tech—self-driving cars, neural implants, and whispers of AI that could think faster than God. But here, in this forgotten corner of America, the air still smelled of popcorn and desperation.
By Theodore Homuth4 months ago in Fiction
Interchangeable. Top Story - October 2025.
Instead of her usual dry red, Lara paced back and forth with a glass of whiskey in hand, impatiently waiting for the answer. There was no turning back now. So, she concentrated all of her charm, which usually worked like magic on other people, to convince herself that she was not a bad person. She needed to. The evidence–pointing its big, fat finger at her in the form of a text thread–stared back from her phone, judging her, making that job harder than she wanted to.
By Cristal S.4 months ago in Fiction
