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Latest Stories

February 06, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

The Lost Williamsen

Coming back from Switzerland, after my wife died, was pretty hard, but I made it. When I landed in LaGuardia airport. I went to go get my luggage. That's where my brother Eddie was, to pick me up and to see the rest of the family. Eddie comes over to me and…
February 06, 2026
Horror Stories Tom Kropp

Killing & Carnage

The sun was a blood lurid red slipping below the jagged peaks of the Redmount Mountains. For Shannon, its fading light was not a promise of rest, but a countdown to her dark side.​ She pressed her spine against the damp, crumbling limestone of a marketplace…
February 06, 2026
Poetry Markus J

2 Aussie Limericks 2 Aussie Clerihews

once a aussie yobbo named pete who only wore thongs on his feet a bunion grew on his toes and a red wart on his nose over were his days at the beach ------------------------------------------------------ there once was a jackaroo who went by the name of blue…
February 02, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

My Second Middle Name

San Lázaro no quiere palabras, quiere hechos. Popular Cuban refrain A few hours after I was born, my parents had a conversation regarding my name. The usual practice in Cuba, as in many other countries, was that a baby would have two given names apart from…
February 02, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

Year One

T J Tuner, Sonny Turner and Curt Chown January 4, 1976- Ocean avenue, Brooklyn New York: Sonny and his wife are having coffee at 5pm Sunday. His wife’s name is Candy. This is when Candy asks ‘When are they picking you up?’ Sonny says ‘7:30 pm.’ Candy asks…
February 02, 2026
Horror Stories Tom Kropp

Werewolf Bar Brawl

Shannon returned to the main street and boldly approached the cantina. At the doorway, one of the burly guards boldly said, "We don't allow no outside whores in here. Only Diego's girls are allowed to work here." "Don't insult me. I'm not a whore. I just…
February 02, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Self-Serving Giraffe

Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live. Oscar Wilde Grumpff was a Somali giraffe male (Giraffa reticulata) in a herd that inhabited a dry savannah in northern Kenya. He was eighteen feet tall and two…
February 02, 2026
Poetry Markus J

An Aussie Had A Barry Crocker

once an Aussie had a Barry Crocker when he got fined from an angry copper he smoked up his golden ute then said it was real beaut because of this, the fine was made double and his best mate was nicked named blue cooked kangaroo and emu stew gave none to…
February 02, 2026
Crime Stories Shane Horton

Super Detectives (Queen Bee)

The smoke of my cigarette dances on the fire of its embers while I breathe in the tar. Chills silently run along my body from the slow breezes of the city. Exposed skin is cold like chunks of ice from the late winter. Honking, common yelling, and occasional…
February 02, 2026
Science Fiction Stories Tom Kropp

Eye Of The Cyborg

Fierce winds whipped across the blood red desert of Dumar and its stormy scarlet skies were filled with soaring starships. A large city sparkled in the hellish light, safe from the storm behind flickering photonic forcefields. It was a volatile planet prone…
January 27, 2026
General Stories J.P. Young

Bittersweet Christmastide In A Winter Wonderland

“Our sweetest songs are those of saddest thought.” ― Percy Bysshe Shelley “It”s always sumtin”, ain”t it?” – Rico Long ago and far away…Things were like the good old days…and as Rico said, Ray lived for the good olddays…As his wife Katrina was working late at…
January 27, 2026
Fantasy Stories Fayaway & Hermester Barrington

Three Days' Flight to Mitrúvishar

Wednesday, November 20th, 2024 From: John Parchment <dragonwriter@mitruvishar.com> To: Emmett Zuntz <ezuntz@majicorpmedia.com> Dear Mr. Zuntz, thou ASCII Mephistopheles, I hereby tender my resignation to Majicorp Media. When I left my secure-but-boring…

Bleeding from the wounds on his face, Tyler sprinted down the path, unable to see, or hear through the consuming night and howling wind, he just kept moving.

“Run!!” his mind pleaded, not knowing anything past that primal instinct to live.

Breathing hard and unable to provide his body with the needed oxygen he stumbled, legs wobbling from the uneven ground and falling hard into the tall tangle of bushes to the left of the gravel path.

Collapsing onto jagged twigs wrapped in rotten leaves Tyler didn’t notice the small sharp scratches they gifted him during his wild fall like fleeing prey

Hunching down until face and body buried into the unkept ground he wheezed into the wet earth.

Unable to hear anything past the violent drumming of his heartbeat Tyler drew in lungful of breath as if resurfacing from a deep dive and tried to think.

“Calm down and breath, you can hide” echoed in his thoughts, as the internal battle continued with trying to regain control from that primal instinct of just running.

After long seconds of desperate heart beats, his ears stopped thumping with blood and breathing came in slow shallow rasps.

Trying to rid the stitch in his ribs with long drawn-out breaths Tyler’s senses came alive with the rotten smell of the forest floor mixed with the taste as he cleaned out his mouth spitting on the wet earth.

Moving shivering hands to his mauled face covered in blood, cuts and now forest filth he took in his surroundings.

Complete darkness.

After a few moments some moonlight rained down as eyes adjusted, weak but streaming through the clouds and barely illuminating the obscured area of the damaged bush path he had run.

Had he run enough?

Was it safe to move?

Questions rolled around unanswered as he sat up trying to take stock of what happened and what to do next.

Rustling sounds behind made him spin around violently, searching everywhere as the cold wind rustled leaves, bent trees and brought a chill to his marked face and sweat covered forehead.

“It's just the wind or insects”, his mind spoke, “It’s normal”

Though tonight it had birthed something new that had taken them.

Were those claws or talons that had come for him too?

Again, fingers caressed over his mauled face, wincing at the pain and the depth of the facial wound.

He tried to remember if anyone else had got away.

Looking back at the path Tyler kept low and willed himself to his knees, freezing at the sound of knees popping expecting something to happen.

Nothing did.

Deciding to move left so in line with the path so not to get lost he took a step.

After braving another two steps he flinched at an owl’s hooting, loud and as if approving of the intruder moving out of its hunting grounds.

Another step, then three more and confidence came with the progress.

Claws grabbed the back of his hair and pulled at the roots, shattering the silence with a scream Tyler swung around punching out, the clawing fingers retreated as his fist crumbled against a huge unmoving solid body as he fell backward from the swing.

Scrambling to his back he looked upon the monstrous shape in front of him, impossibly tall, dark and reaching for him.

He scrambled backwards mud and dirt smearing his jeans, twigs piercing the flesh of his clawing hands as he crawled away.

The beast didn’t chase, it didn’t even move.

It stayed there looking at him, still, very still, almost like a…“a fucking tree”.

He breathed out the words almost making him laugh as his bloody hands cleared his eyes. He had screamed like a nine-year-old child at a goddamn tree.

Taking the time to feel ashamed as he got up and flexing the now hurt hand as a knuckle popped and felt misplaced, probably broken but adrenaline kept the pain away for the moment.

Head shaking in embarrassment as he continued the walk as a distant scream echoed back.

Frowning at the almost alien noise he turned to look in the direction only to be hit again with a fresh wave of painful screams, it all came back like a solid punch of fear to the gut.

The blood, that sound of snapping bones while bodies were pulled apart and played with.

It had attacked, it had taken them all and he was standing there like a fool screaming at a tree.

He twisted on the spot to the sound of an almost inhuman cry as it rolled like a wave through the forest, a sound of pain and fear that cut out so suddenly all other noise refused to fill the void.

Tyler ran.

Large woodland trees dotted the land, roots and mounds covered the floor causing him to falter a few times. Unable to see with clear footing and dark shadows dancing everywhere making evil shapes almost reaching for him while the wind made it all move and sway to some dark rhythm.

Eyes wide trying to get as much light as the pale moon would allow, he continued forward as the trees thinned and a path appeared.

Yes, the path back to the car.

Reactively putting his swollen hand on his jacket pocket feeling the hard press of car keys, he felt a sliver of hope creep in.

Without waiting he continued forward into the opening, making small steps as if a deer creeping to a watering hole with eyes wide and consistently searching for danger.

His advance was halted as the body came into view.

It laid across the path face up gazing into the dark sky as if a grotesque offering.

The arms and legs sprawled wide in a starfish pose, the mouth frozen in a gaping endless scream under eyes that had been plucked.

An opening in the chest told the cause of death, slick blood and bits of flesh hung on every snapped rib as if they had been bent outwards perfectly like a blooming flower.

“beautiful isn’t it?” came a deep voice from behind.

Bio:

Callum Chuck. MMA Coach from England who needs more shelfs for books and comics.

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