Horror
The Sanctuary Up North
“Wakey wakey,” a creepy, child-like voice said. Paul was lying in a bedroom. Well, he was lying in a bed which happened to be in a room. The metal walls were covered in dried blood and lit by dull, ominous torchlight. He tried to move in a sudden panic, but his wrists and ankles were tied down.
By David Meyer5 years ago in Fiction
From the Source of our Soul
Amun’s fingers clawed on the sandy floor. The laborer’s bare feet scrambled against stone as he tried to haul himself over the edge of the pit. Below him the inky chasm shimmered as it slowly filled with boiling tar—the latest trap threatening to claim his life and leave him entombed in this place along with the rest of his cohort.
By Alexander Eby5 years ago in Fiction
Rule 11
I’m Seth. I lived with the men of my family. My sisters live in the house with the women. My dad was a builder, like I was learning to be. This year he retires and goes to the city to be with Mom. She was a cook, like my sisters are, but once she and Dad are reunited, all their kids will build and cook for them. That’s how it was supposed to be. I’m not sure how many sisters I have. I only really knew Kara, who is eleven now, like me. I was the youngest boy in the house, but my younger brother was born this year in the city. When he turns ten, he’ll know The Ten Rules like you and I do.
By Sickness and Heart5 years ago in Fiction
A Voice from the Void
The drop-off. The period of time that doesn't exist. Except for yours truly. My life exists in this emptiness, this void, the in-between, the "Ah, I was nowhere near there Officer, been fucking here all night ain't I?" and anonymous check-ins to hotel rooms.
By Jessica Rose5 years ago in Fiction
The Scavenger
Sarai grimaced at the collection she had laid out before her. It wasn’t a good day for scavenging, that was for sure. Sure, there were always those superstitious folk who’d pay a coin or two for a genuine Surface spoon or bowl; they, supposedly, would bring you luck (which was complete bullshit, but anything for a few extra pennies). The old tea kettle might be worth something, though it was a bit rusty. But the glass shards, no matter what color they were stained, were pretty much worthless, and the carabiner wasn’t useful or pretty enough to tempt anyone.
By Jules Berndt5 years ago in Fiction
The Stitched
“NO!” I jolted upwards clutching my heart, it was beating so hard ,I thought it would jump right out of my shirt. It was a horrible dream , a recurring nightmare that I just couldn't seem to shake. In the dream I am being chased, but instead of the usual faceless creatures, they all had the features of my loved ones.
By Josaline Radley5 years ago in Fiction
