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Latest Stories

October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

The Moon Is A Wanderer Too

The rain came down like broken glass and the city was a wound, bleeding light and exhaust and the smell of food frying in oil that’s been used too many times. I was walking nowhere, which is the only place I ever go, and the streets were full of saints and…
October 17, 2025
Mystery Stories Brittany Szekely

The House On Wren Street

Notes: A mother rebuilding her life after domestic violence uncovers a chilling secret in her new home Isla didn’t notice the house was watching her until the second week. At first, it was just creaks in the floorboards, the way the hallway light flickered…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

Pee Girl Gets The Milk

He met her on a Tuesday, the kind of Tuesday that feels like a leftover Monday, stale and gray and hungover from the weekend’s sins. Her name was Lita, or maybe Rita, or maybe she just said that to keep things simple. She had a cigarette halo, a ring of smoke…
October 17, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

Lie To Me More

La vida es una mentira; Miénteme más,Que me hace tu maldad feliz.(Life is a lie; Lie to me more,For your wickedness makes me happy.)Armando Domínguez Borras, “Miénteme” (bolero) Out of a habit ingrained over fifty-odd years of hard work, Timmy McFarlane got up…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

The Unseen Listener Of Moscow

It was 11:55 p.m. when he stepped out of Moscow’s Lefortovo Metro Station. His whole body ached; his legs trembled. His eyes were sleepy. He felt surrounded by unknown souls, all in a hurry to reach their destinations. He looked at the disappearing faces for a…
October 17, 2025
General Stories L Christopher Hennessy

Rearranging The Brain Furniture

She called herself Lark, though her name was probably something dull like Emily or Claire. She was nineteen, maybe twenty, with a face that looked like it had been drawn in charcoal, smudged eyes, a mouth that never quite closed, and hair that hung like wet…
October 17, 2025
Flash Fiction L Christopher Hennessy

FCAWF

She called herself Moth and said she liked the way they flew into flames without flinching. Her real name was Emily, but that was buried under layers of eyeliner, cigarette burns, and a voice that could cut glass. She was thirty, somewhat immature, vindictive…
October 17, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Kashif Imdad

Femtoria

In a dystopian future, the world had transformed into a society that was unrecognisable to those who had lived in the previous century. The nation of Femtoria stood as a beacon of prosperity, A female supremacist regime, had risen to power, enforcing a strict…
September 27, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

Half an Hour to Fourteen

Last night she lay on her bed with a curly-haired doll close to her chest. She was looking at the clock hanging over the door. Only half an hour was left —her life’s digit would turn from thirteen to fourteen, a change that felt like a heavy blow to the…
September 27, 2025
Romance Stories Nelly Shulman

Till We Meet Again

“Would you like more coffee?”The server in the orange apron lowered the pot, but Cath muttered, “No, thank you.”Her voice trembled, and the server busied herself with the next table. Outside the window, fog enveloped Waterloo Bridge. The morning was quiet,…
September 23, 2025
Flash Fiction Leroy B. Vaughn

Another Farewell To Arms Reunion

We were sitting in a little café in Wickenburg Arizona eating lunch when my wife looked at me and said, “I can’t believe you’re actually going to this reunion after you told all of your buddies that there was not a chance in hell that you would go.” “I know…
September 23, 2025
General Stories William Kitcher

A Political Solution

The Rt. Honorable Leader/Head of Council/First Governor/Chief Minister/Premier/President/Chancellor/First Minister/Party Secretary-General entered his office, and looked out the open window. It was a beautiful sunny cool day, and the cherry blossoms shone in…

Dan Fletcher and Cindy Oster laughed as they drank another Keystone beer from the cooler inside the hatch of the Honda Fit.  Both were 16 and had taken the beer to a somewhat secluded area of the Erie Canal just outside the rural town of Clinton Landing.  It was a popular site for Buffalo, NY area high school students to drink.  The scattered beer cans next to the car confirmed that others had recently been to the same spot.  Neither Dan or Cindy cared about the filth lying around them.

“You know what Cindy?” Dan said as he finished his Keystone.  “We should swim in the canal.”

Cindy looked perplexed at the suggestion.  “We didn’t bring swimsuits Dan.”

“Who needs suits?”

Cindy giggled and blushed as she realized the young man’s motivation.  “You aren’t going to get any of what you are thinking.”

“What?  I just want to have a nice swim with you.”

“Right.  And you think I was born yesterday.”

Dan stood up and removed his shirt.  “Suit yourself Cindy.  I am going in.”  And with that he striped and went jogging toward the canal.

Cindy hesitated for a moment and then called out.  “Hey, wait for me.”  She removed her shirt before running toward the canal.  She decided that she would swim in her underwear.  No need to encourage the young boy any more than that.

By the time Cindy reached the canal, Dan was already in the water.  He saw the young girl hesitantly moving toward the water and called out.

“Hey, skinny dipping means no clothes.”

“This is all you get,” was the young girl’s reply as she removed her shorts.  “I know what’s on your mind.”

“I just want to swim Cindy.”

“Yes.  And I still want to become a nun.”

Dan sighed and shook his head.   His hopes of seeing Cindy naked didn’t look like they were to be.

As Dan waited for Cindy to enter the water, a large growl came from behind him.  He turned to see what the source of the noise was and saw a large splash in the water about 40 yards away.  Something was emerging from the water.  Something big.  Something menacing.

Dan didn’t wait to get a better view of the disturbance.  He had seen all he needed to see.  He rushed for the shore and called out to Cindy.  “Run!!”

They ran to the Honda Fit and got inside.  The noise continued for a few moments and then stopped.  They sat quietly as Dan thought about what to do.  After 45 minutes of silence outside (and continual shaking inside), Dan Fletcher decided to call 911.  They got dressed as the police arrived at the site.

 

 

Sergeants Charles Keegan and Tom Warren explored the area as Chief Jeffrey Rowdan took statements from Dan and Cindy.  The two kids attempted to tell the facts to the police chief as calmly as they could but shaking and halted speech told Rowdan that both were still in shock.

Rowdan cleared his throat as he asked his first question.  “So this monster came out of the water?”

Dan didn’t know how to reply.  “I didn’t say it was a monster.  It was a thing.”

“A thing?” replied Rowdan as he made notes in his police log book.  “A thing that growled?  Like a dog?”

“Yes.  I mean no.  I mean it growled but not like a dog.  I am not sure how to describe it.”

“So this growly thing attacked you?”

“No.  Not exactly.  We ran from the water edge as soon as it appeared.”

“And it was scary?”

“Yes.  Very big and dark.”

“And it was so frightening that it scared the pants off your girlfriend?”

“What??”  Dan didn’t understand the comment.

Sergeant Charlie Keegan held up Cindy’s white shorts, apparently retrieved from the water edge near the canal.  Upon seeing the shorts, Cindy looked down and finally realized that she had been standing before the police in her pink panties.  She had put her shirt back on but had forgotten about the shorts which had been left near the water.

Cindy Oster tried to cover her groin with her hands but was not very successful.  Turning completely red with embarrassment, she grabbed the shorts and ran behind the Honda to put them back on.

Dan sighed and looked back at Rowdan.  “We were skinny dipping.  Or rather, preparing to skinny dip when all this occurred.”

“Uh huh,” replied Rowdan as he made more notes.  “And then the monster came out of the water.”

“I didn’t say it was a monster.  It was a thing.”

“A thing.  That growled like a dog.”

“It growled but not exactly like a dog.”

“Uh huh.”

“Chief, I am not making this up.  You have got to believe me.”  The frustration in Fletcher’s voice was clearly apparent.

Rowdan looked up from his notes and glared at Dan Fletcher.  “Young man, you want to know what I think?  I think all these cans beside your car show that both of you were drinking.  A lot.  And in your drunken state, you heard a dog growl and mistook that for this monster.  That is what I think.”

“But there were disruptions in the water.  I saw them.”

“Uh huh.”

“Really.”

Chief Rowdan took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.  “Look buddy.  Here is what I am going to offer both of you.  Clean up all your cans and leave.  I will overlook the underage drinking and won’t call your parents.  This time.  Don’t come back to this spot and stay out of my jurisdiction.”

“These aren’t all our cans.  We just brought a couple of six pack.”

“Uh huh.  And all these cans are from other people.”

“Yes.  This spot is popular with high school students.  It’s secluded and good for drinking.”

“Uh huh.  All these high school students come here to drink Keystone because it’s so good.”

“No.  The bring Keystone because it’s cheap.”

“Uh huh.”

“Really chief....”

“Young man, I suggest you accept my offer and clean up this spot and just leave.”

Cindy Oster pulled at Dan Fletcher.  “Dan, let’s just go.”

Fletcher sighed and started picking up the empty cans, placing them in his Honda hatch since he didn’t have a garbage bag.  3 minutes later, he started the car and headed back toward Buffalo, anxious to leave Clinton Landing behind.  The town’s reputation for unusual phenomenon clearly supported the nickname “Eerie Landing” that paranormal investigators sometimes gave the small hamlet.  As far as Dan Fletcher was concerned, he would be happy never to return to the area.

Chief Jeffrey Rowdan and Sergeant Charlie Keegan watched as the car left the area.  Keegan then spoke.

“What do we do now chief?”

“Nothing.  We wrap up here and write a report on the incident.  No follow-up.”

“But chief, this is the 4th time....”

“Keegan, you have to learn when to drop things.  I said that this is a wrap.  Drop it.”

“But chief...”

“No buts.  Wrap it up.”

 

 

The next evening, Charlie Keegan returned to the Erie Canal site with an infrared camera.  Keegan was convinced that the story told by Dan Fletcher was truthful and that something lived in this area of the canal.  He just needed images to convince Rowdan that the stories being told about this area had some truth to them.  He was convinced that he could get those pictures.

Keegan walked quietly along the bank of the canal for about 20 minutes without any observations or disturbances.  He then sat down to rest for a minute and after doing so, a large disturbance in the canal occurred.  A monster nearly 9 feet tall and with sharp fang-like teeth came out of the water and approached Keegan.  Startled, Keegan fumbled for his camera but it was too late.  The monster grabbed his upper torso and tossed the 190 pound man around like a sack of potatoes.  Keegan cried out briefly and then went silent.

 

 

Epilogue

Chief Jeffrey Rowdan found the half eaten corpse of Charlie Keegan the next day.  Sergeant Tom Warren vomited as he realized the corpse was his friend.  Rowdan consoled Warren as he looked around the canal.  All was quiet and nothing was out of place.

“What do we do now?” asked Warren as he looked away from the corpse.

“We write this up as a boating accident, the victim being cut up by propeller blades after falling into the water.

“Chief, we have no evidence of that.”

“That is our best theory.”

Warren nodded and called for an ambulance to take the body to the Clinton Landing morgue.

“Tom?  One more thing.”

Warren looked up at the chief wondering what the older man would say.

“Ask the Department of Public Works to put new ‘No Swimming’ signs along this part of the canal.  The last ones were taken down by all these kids.”

Warren nodded.

“And Tom.  Have them place on the signs ‘Unsafe Water Conditions.  Pollution’.  We need to do that.”

“Chief, we have no evidence of water pollution.”

Rowdan signed and nodded.  “I know.  But do it anyway.”

 

The End

Author’s Bio: Tom Schmidt is a Chemical Engineer working in medical diagnostics in upstate New York.  He enjoys creative writing and has been published on www.short-story.me in the past and is scheduled to be published on www.overmydeadbody.com later this year.  He is currently working on the “Paul Garigan Crime Mysteries”, a collection of short stories centered around a Malibu based police detective which he hopes to publish in the future.

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