They broke into my home. They dragged me out of bed. I had no idea who they were. They all had masks and black coats on. They took me to the middle of the woods. They took me inside a creepy old cabin. They put me on a cold stone table full of runic symbols. They started chanting "Raga taga laga" over and over again. One of them took out a shiny knife and held it over my chest. "No," I screamed. The knife went inside me. They opened up my chest and pulled out my heart. Everything went black.
About the Creator
Alex H Mittelman
I love writing and just finished my first novel. Writing since I was nine. I’m on the autism spectrum but that doesn’t stop me! If you like my stories, click the heart, leave a comment. Link to book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQZVM6WJ
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More stories from Alex H Mittelman and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Wake Up, Love
"Wake up, love," A voice said to me. "Who are you, and why do I really need to use the bathroom," I said. "I'm your wife. You've been in a coma for three months. You were hit by a truck," She said. "I'm up now," I said. "We missed you," she said. "Who's we?" I asked. "Me and the kids," she said. "Oh hey, guys," I said. "You smell, daddy," My youngest said. "I'll go shower," I said. I got up, showered, and spent the rest of the day catching up with my wonderful family. It's really good being awake.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Fiction
Logic and reason are not always explanation enough.
Logic and reason are not always explanation enough. Understanding is elusive He sat looking at the half empty glass but not seeing it, he was cold but not feeling it, he was in pain but not hurting from it. His mind was numb, his memory a jumble of conflicting events, as if from a nightmare but were in fact real. The phone rang for a long time before it gained his attention and then he tried to turn it off, an automatic reaction against coming back to reality. His mind preferred the numbness to anything else that was available. In this distracted state he accidentally accepted the call and put it onto speaker, the voice from the speaker jolted him into giving it his full attention. This was a call from the dead. The voice was full of concern, “where are you John, why haven’t you called, what is going on?” Even to his own ears his tone sounded subdued, defeated, “I am in the cabin, in the woods but I am OK will call you later” and he turned the phone off both ending this call and not accepting any other.
By Peter Rose6 days ago in Fiction
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