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Latest Stories

March 19, 2024
Fantasy Stories Wondering Monk

Just My Imagination

The alarm clock went off and started playing an awful tune. Tom opened his eyes and closed them back, squinting. He reopened one eye and stood up to stop the torture. The phone was on the desk, in the furthest spot from the bed. Although he changed his way of…
March 19, 2024
Science Fiction Stories Ocelotlzin

Earth Is Dead

Recording… It doesn't matter who I was; I probably lived a long time ago, and I am now just a voice someone added to the audio-visual records. What is essential is the recollection of events that lead to the current state. So, a little history needs to be…
March 08, 2024
Flash Fiction Benoit

Some Enchanted Evening

It was a rugby tackle with tears: Chrissy burst in, sobbing and babbling, hugging James. Her face was all wet, eyes wild. What…? My parents split up, Dad has moved in with his boyfriend and I cannot join them. I am shut out. I have lost my dad. Torrent of…
March 08, 2024
Horror Stories Marvel Chukwudi Pephel

In The Hands Of My Legs

The car pulled up in front of the large salon. The neon sign, that sexy broad thing, on the salon'sroof read "Mr. Gil's All-night Salon". The exhaust pipe of the car was pumping solid smoke, theswirls moving from the car and towards the salon.…
March 07, 2024
Mystery Stories Vanessa Leigh Giles

Casualty of Love in the Time of Coronavirus

Chapter 1 Until Death do us Part ‘Ring, ring!’. I answered the telephone and asked, “Hello, good evening. Who’s this? “Hello.” This is Dr. Smith from Red Cross hospital. “Is this Mr. Locke, John?”, he asked, hesitantly scratching his bald head. “Yes, doctor.…
March 07, 2024
Crime Stories Robert Pook

Bar Room Trigger

Another return journey on footpaths so familiar. He strides across each crack in each paving stone. Regular loose drain covers sidestepped. Mapping long ago mapped in Richard’s desolate mind. His pace hastened by the sight of the oncoming storm. Quickening…
March 04, 2024
Horror Stories Ano Chinemerem

Sanctity

Where should I begin? I could begin by telling you about this comely boy, whom every notable person around the streets agrees his smile could charm the bills off one. Between one smile, there was his goodness, his dreams and humanity—a little far ahead?— but…
March 04, 2024
Flash Fiction Emanuel Diaz

Et Mortui Partium

As Rafael stepped out into the rain, it wasn't the ordinary drops that fell from the sky. Instead, it was a storm of souls, each one taking the form of shimmering jewelry as it cascaded toward the ground. Rubies, diamonds, and sapphires twinkled amidst the…
February 29, 2024
Poetry Jing Li Ava

London

‘Am I in London?’ "I am." Where is Elizabeth? Happy living story All of your chapter Bounlance joy Please my heart Power hand Wise mind Our baby Vow vow Love all love Miss I miss Endless wonder Bring us together Love all love Miss I miss For everything My…
February 29, 2024
Flash Fiction Rob Pook

Life Sentence of The Smith

Born nine months after his country won the World Cup.A child prodigy.Cast off at age twenty-four.Husband, father, emigree, away on the other side of the world.The blue-collar life.The dreams of success.The search for fulfillment.The long years of empty…
February 29, 2024
Mystery Stories Joshua Lowther

The Operator

Jason looked over to his right, his eyes barely able to focus themselves on the subject of his attention. His neck ached terribly from the strenuous movement. He was tired. The captain’s gaze came to rest on the rookie sonar operator sitting tense at his…
February 29, 2024
Flash Fiction Salvatore Difalco

The Chute

At dusk, we left our unit with a soft pink bundle. I carried it through the wet streets and into the black woods. I said I’d take it all the way, the bundle, but that we had to drop it in together. My wife’s green eyes flashed. “Don’t make me do that.” I…

Chamalis fought to keep a neutral, emotionless expression on her downward
cast face. The smell of burning flesh urged her gag reflex to escape her concentrated
efforts of suppression. Whispering rhythmically through the air the impossibly thin whip
sped towards it’s target sending out a hiss as skin and muscle melted away at it’s
slightest touch.


After what felt like an eternity the voice of the head human called out the order to
return to duty as he carefully coiled his instrument of correction. A firm, bony grip led her
back to one of the servant halls. Both anger and a deep concern colored the words
leaving her mother’s lips.


“You must be more careful. You nearly lost control of yourself. If you think
witnessing a flogging is bad imagine participating next time you want to lose focus.”
Chamalis kept her gaze firmly aimed downward at the bare cement floor. She
knew her mother was just trying to scare her, everyone knew girls her age were never
flogged, though just as many never returned from their destinations as men died at the
floggers cruel treatment. One girl in the kitchens had shared her limited knowledge
about what happened after a woman went away with one of the Angheal males that
inhabited the manse.

She had understood little of the telling, but a subconscious instinct
made her feel that fate would somehow be worse than death via heat whip.
One quick squeeze signalled her mother turning off towards her duties. Chamalis
proceeded to the atrium to wait for the mistress of the home to return. With only
seconds to spare she took her position in a slightly recessed alcove near the door just
as it slid silently into the wall. The creature that came through the threshold could only
be described as physically flawless. Thick, dark hair framed a pale face totally free of
even the slightest blemish. Pearlescent robes flowed from shoulders poised as if posing
for a portrait down to golden sandaled feet. Colorful strands of silken thread displaying
the identifying crest of the household wrapped about a slender waist.


Without a glance in Chamalis’ direction the Angheal female gracefully crossed
the spacious front lobby and disappeared behind an ornate doorway. Being unnoticed
meant no immediate danger of arbitrary punishment being handed out existed. Both
master and mistress of the household had a reputation of indulging an almost bored
sadism with distressing regularity. Their anatomically perfect faces never showed
anything but serene contentment, sending the clear message that humankind didn’t
even deserve contempt when being punished.


Several hours of standing still in the atrium awaited Chamalis. Gaze down, face
impassive, the only tolerated appearance the human slaves were permitted. Unbidden,
and with painful clarity, a memory forced itself across trillions of neurons bringing her
back to that fateful day a lifetime ago. She had still been young, not yet an adolescent
when the human officials came to the door of their single room living space. Her mother
had gasped and fallen to the floor even as one of the men started talking. The
recollection of his words filled her mind’s eye.


“....consider yourselves extremely lucky. This region has fewer lottery winners
than...Oh, Creator. Get her up would you?” The second man stepped forward and
pulled Chamilis’ mother into a chair. The first man extended a sheaf of papers and
resumed speaking.


“Your transport will depart in three days from communal car park 435, unit 76345.
You and your dependent are each permitted one bag each. If you are late you will forfeit
your entrance into the holy city. You are advised to speak to no one of your departure.
Do so at your own peril.” The second man smiled wide at Chamilis and said,
“You are one lucky kid. You’ll get to spend most of your life in the Creator’s
paradise instead of out in the shithole that is the rest of Earth.”


With a sudden start Chamalis realized tears rolled down her cheeks in heavy
streams. Her hand froze halfway to her cheek as a cold fear arrested her movement.
Standing only a dozen feet away stood the master of the house his beautiful sparkling
eyes gazing into her own dull brown eyes. The alien’s face remained a mask of almost
kind understanding as he spoke in a sparkling, clear voice,
“You will head immediately to my bedchamber. I shall be along in a short time.”

Then he strode purposefully down the hall. Stunned Chamalis realized her legs taking
her in the correct direction of their own accord. Total numbness dominated her mind not
even leaving room for the terror she knew she should be feeling.
As she approached the towering double doors that led to the masters private
quarters, another servant passing chanced a rush of whispered advice.
“Do whatever he asks of you without hesitation or question and you will escape
any further correction.”


And then she arrived at the golden colored doors. Everyone she had ever known
before winning the lottery along with another two billion humans spread across a
ravaged, impoverished planet would happily trade places with her only to find far too
late the paradise city of the Creator of Reality had already reached maximum
occupancy of His first created beings, the Angheals, who desired humans be allowed
entrance to the city only to serve them as they served the Creator. Nearly every living
person dreamt of entering this paradise that had descended from the stars.

They
wished to escape the poverty, violence, and harsh conditions of what they all swore to
be hell on Earth. Only the lucky would discover the true living hell life could become.
Chamalis no longer made any attempt to stem the tide of tears flowing down her
olive colored cheeks. No respite existed for humanity in this heavenly city, only casual
cruelty and cosmic injustice. Reaching for the handle she uttered the first prayer to the
Creator since entering the city.


“Please just let me die quickly. I cannot bear this nightmare becoming any
worse.” Stepping through the opening Chamalis went to face the prize she had been so
lucky to win.

Bio: 

I am an aspiring short fiction writer. My only published writings are the three letters to the editor I have submitted to my city's paper all of which made it in the Sunday paper. I used to have some talent for fiction writing in school, but it's been a decade since then. The success of my letters to the editor inspired me to attempt getting a piece of fiction published.

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