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Latest Stories

September 10, 2025
Horror Stories Brittany Anne Szekely

The Taste Of Long Pig

The wardrobe was small, but it smelled like cedar and old coats, and that made it okay. Mum had lined the bottom with a blanket and tucked my stuffed bear beside me. She called it quiet time, and sometimes it lasted until the moon came out. “ Be good, my…
September 10, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Red Oak

An oak tree is an oak tree. That is all it has to do.If an oak tree is less than an oak tree, then we are all in trouble.Nhat Hanh A majestic red oak (Quercus rubra) stood alone atop a hillock. It was almost a hundred feet tall and had a trunk four feet in…
September 10, 2025
Flash Fiction Brittany Anne Szekely

Some Women Are Made Of Neon Bones

The house had been abandoned for years, but it stood like it remembered being loved. The walls were cracked, its windows shattered, and the front porch sagged like it had been holding its breath too long, but beneath the decay something pulsed, like neon…
September 10, 2025
Poetry Markus J

Lone Is The Boy

the peasants shed their tears alone, while the kings and queens sit upon their judging thrones . come down and take the child by the hand show him the way. for time has come where the light upon his path, is starting to turn dark. put away your mind's…
August 28, 2025
General Stories Eric Haggen and Absalom

Knight Of Honor

Blake Wright rode his horse London through the farm country southwest of Belgrade Serbia. Blake was wearing his armor without a helmet. Blake heard dogs barking. Blake pulled back on the reins and said "Stop." London stopped. The dogs continued to bark. Blake…
August 28, 2025
Romance Stories P.D. Ravel

Walls Of Love

Her My walls are the pillars of my existence and of my survival. But for you they seem like obstacles that have to be overcome. You keep ignoring the fact that I have built wall after wall after wall hiding away from suffering. Trying to conceal my heart. But…
August 28, 2025
Poetry Markus J

Today's Sad Sonnet

I don't believe in organized religion but i do believe in a supreme being and his opposite-destroying with a mind invasion wrapped up as compassion-his evil doing once there was a thing called tolerance where people could freely express different opinions now…
August 28, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Carousel of the Blind

I could no longer cast from my soul the conviction, each time stronger and better supported,that the blind controlled the world: through the nightmares and the hallucinations,the plagues and the witches, the soothsayers and the birds, the snakes and, in…
August 28, 2025
Horror Stories Jackson Strauss

The Walk Home

It was the most beautiful day ever. The sun shone through cold and crisp air, and there was barely a cloud in the sky. Jack had finished all his schoolwork, household tasks, and martial arts training for the week and was ready to walk to the local cinema to…
August 28, 2025
Romance Stories Nelly Shulman

The Homecoming

“Is it customary now to send an invitation for every tiny and insignificant event in one’s life?” Harriet waved a cream-colored card, taken out of the company-logoed envelope. “And on paper, no less,” she added scathingly. “Green business, kiss my ass. Never…
August 28, 2025
Flash Fiction Jim Harrington

One Of A Kind

One of a Kind “Don’t run on the sidewalk, Nathan. You’ll fall and hurt yourself. Remember the last time?” “Dad said it was okay, because I’m four and I heal quickly.” He turned a sad face to his mom. “Unlike Auntie Karen.” Alice felt her knees buckle and…
August 28, 2025
General Stories Fred Gielow

A Talk With God

God: “Jonathan Earl Benson!” Benson: “Who said that? Who’s there? I don’t see anyone.” God: “Mr. Benson, it is I, the Almighty.” Benson: “Oh, my god!” God: “That is correct.” Benson: “But, I can’t see you. Where are you?” God: “I am all about, Mr. Benson. Do…

I glance around and notice my mug of hot tea is gone. Not only that, there is writing on my message pad. I haven’t even touched it yet, it should be blank. I lean in closer and read “Help Me” in purple messy letters. I jump up from my chair. I’ve only been working at the playhouse a couple of weeks. Could this be staff initiation?  I sit back and decide what to do next. The last thing I want to do is overreact.

“Hee!” I hear the noise. I glance up at the basement door. I hear it again, a combination of a growl and a hiss. I get up slowly and walk toward the noise. “Hee! Hee”! I pause. I don’t want to open the door.  My hands shake. I can either open the door or run back to my seat and wait to see what happens next. I hesitate for a minute. Eventually I raise my hand to open the door. I yank it wide open.

Something jumps on me. What the hell is it? Pain, I feel pain, my skin burns.  A few drops of blood come out an ear or a nose. Is it my blood? The whiskers are blood-red. I grip a fistful of fur and throw the cat away from me. I think it’s a cat. It flies through the air and lands on the floor with a thud.

The cat is down for thirty seconds and gets up and bolts. I sit and do nothing for a full five minutes. My shirt has a couple of tears. My right hand, the one used to pry the cat, has little patches of blood on it. I see a couple of claw marks and scratches. I get up and walk slowly downstairs. I need to find the cat. Staff initiation is safe to rule out.

In the basement darkness has crept in. I turn on the light. The cat is nowhere to be seen, of course. I stand and wait. I hope the cat will magically appear.  I just want this nightmare to end.  Suddenly, I see the cat at the far end of the basement. Ironically the cat is posted right beside the emergency doors. It stares at me.

I have seen the cat roaming around in my neighbourhood. A tenant probably moved and left it behind. I was thoughtful enough to pick up a tin of cat food. But I forgot to actually give it to the cat. Ooops.

We lock eyes. A few minutes go by. No matter how long this goes on, I will not be the first one to move.  Suddenly the cat takes a step and then another. My heart jumps into my throat. My body contracts with fear and I can’t move. It takes a third and starts to pick up speed and charges me!

It lands on my throat and claws sink in. I try to pull the cat off but it clings as in life or death. I try to pull the cat off me again. This time I manage to pull it about a foot away from me. I stare into the eyes. They scare me the hell out of me. Suddenly, I feel weak; my knees are ready to buckle underneath me. Without warning, the cat swings a paw and swipes my left cheek. On impulse I drop the cat, for a second it’s in mid-air but quickly disappears. I look around and see nothing. My cheek throbs and is sore. I run into the girls’ bathroom. I want to see the damage. I see two slash marks on my face. I splash myself with cold water. I walk back upstairs to the desk. I sit for a couple minutes.

My eyes blink a couple of times just to make sure. This can’t be. What the hell is going on? The purple message is gone. My mug is right in front of me, filled with steaming tea.

 

END

Bio: A.J. Plum is new to writing and is just starting to explore different genres.

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