Top Stories

Stories in Fiction that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.

The Goblin
I wake up and he's there. He dogs my steps all day, like an especially loyal... well... dog. Except I like dogs, and he's loathsome.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
The Culling. Content Warning.
I was fourteen when the culling occurred. Old enough to vaguely remember, young enough not to fully understand but smart enough to know it was wrong. Perhaps necessary but wrong all the same.
By JBaz2 years ago in Fiction
Ghosted
Her house was once a rustic retreat: Grammy’s ancient Afghan draped over the cracked, leather chair next to the wood burning fireplace. Sun-faded yellow gingham curtains in the kitchen danced in the afternoon breeze. She kept the windows open year-round, demanding to breathe in only fresh air. I spent many afternoons curled up with Aunt Bette, watching raunchy movies and drinking good tequila. That was her poison. She hasn’t been gone six months, but I still feel her in the weathered boards of the sagging front porch. I sit on the rough-hewn stairs, avoiding the papaya-colored porch swing. Can’t sit there. It’s not meant for one. Without a hint of a breeze, the swing slowly comes to life.
By Cathy Schieffelin2 years ago in Fiction
The Forest of Lost Knowledge
Tomorrow marks eight hundred years since the great Celestine Library vanished. Einar rested his pen on blank pages. Some scribe he’d turned out to be. They were a week into their journey and not once had he written about their travels or findings. Not that there was much to report on that had not been recorded a thousand times over.
By M. A. Mehan 2 years ago in Fiction
Stacked Up Reasons
Somehow she kept finding excuses not to leave. She excavated them from her underwear drawer, blew dust bunnies off them from underneath the bed. She found them at the bottom of her tea mugs, even borrowing the maintenance mans’ ladder to reach the forbidden depths of the highest kitchen shelves.
By Ariana GonBon2 years ago in Fiction
Timber
"To the left," the wizened Oak hissed, its brow of cloven bark furrowed above the deep brown knots of its eyes. "The left, I said!"
By James Leek2 years ago in Fiction
The Guardians
“Where are they?” “They swore to protect us!” “Who even saw them last?” Wind carried the chatter from tree to tree as the Great Everlasting Council gathered to discuss the latest round of forest fires. Even some of the local wildlife had dropped in to listen to the grand pines converse.
By Stephanie Hoogstad2 years ago in Fiction
Friend of the Family
When people say that someone is a family friend, it usually extends to an entire family being friends with another. In small towns where the average-tasting barista coffee is served with a side of gossip, and the elderly eye everyone with a certain disdain, the true meaning of this phrase isn’t yet lost.
By Eloise Robertson 2 years ago in Fiction
Starving
Without a doubt, Isabella had an eye for beauty. In the early morning frost, she would set out to walk with Dilly through the thicket behind her grandfather's half standing barn. Dilly scouted for critters in the woods while she carefully etched the ice laden branches dangling from the naked birch and maple trees. Her breath formed a haze around her pale, young, yet serious, face. Dilly leapt abruptly out of the dense wood with wet, forthright paws then pounced jovially upon her drawing. With his own signature upon her pallet, color rose in her cheeks with fury as she scolded the cowering hound; he fell by her feet like a pouty child. Being an easy, forgiving soul, she scratched the back of his neck. "It's alright boy, silly pup."
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)2 years ago in Fiction
The Oldest Oak
"I don't like these woods," Dafydd muttered. They had a presence that unnerved him. It wasn't the darkness; it wasn't the smell of them nor was it the unidentifiable shufflings, rustlings and creakings. It was something more and his instinct was twitching spasmodically in response and transmitting its vibrations to his gut. The air felt thicker and more hesitant to part and whilst his movement was unhindered, he felt enclosed on all sides.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
Immerwald. Content Warning.
Standing so still that one might think it was a tree, the Voice of the Immerwald glared at the Ambassador. The glare was felt, not seen. Its eyeless wooden mask betraying nothing, but it tore into anyone on whom the gaze turned. Like a spile driven into their souls, drawing out fear and guilt that pooled on the floor around their feet.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Fiction
The Bear
The bear sat in the shadows, its muzzle white with age and eyes filmy and blind. Zacharias stared at it with wonder and not a little fear. He had not known that anything could be so impossibly ancient in the Wild.
By John Cox2 years ago in Fiction