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Latest Stories

January 27, 2023
Flash Fiction Marina Krasavtseva

Je t’aime… Moi non plus

Her first tear was a pleasure. Now, her eyes red and puffy, he felt somewhat disgusted but still satisfied with what he had done. Her sobbing was pleasing, but when she would open her mouth…He just wanted to punch her, stifle her or whatever it would take to…
January 27, 2023
Crime Stories Peter Greenhall

The Bank Robbery

Dev, a second generation Indian male, arrived early to work. He was the branch manager and responsible for the transferring of cash to a security van that arrived every Wednesday. Every week Dev arrived for work, alone, to meet the private company. On getting…
January 27, 2023
General Stories Emanuel Diaz

Oh Rats !

Francoch Ratta, a 27-year-old New Yorker of Irish-Italian descent, woke up one morning to find he had a peculiar sensation. It was as if someone, or something, was watching him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was a feeling that wouldn't go…
January 27, 2023
Poetry Peter Greenhall

Broken Hearted

Didn't take a knife, A gun, Or Strangulation, From anyone. No weapons of mass destruction, Powerfully, No cloak and dagger stuff, Sneakily. What you did, When you left me, What you did, Utterly destroyed me. Don't love me anymore, What am I to do? Didn't see…
January 24, 2023
Flash Fiction Greg Crow

The god Of Time And Space

There was a young man named Greg. He was an ordinary man, living an ordinary life, but he had a secret that he kept hidden from the world. He had the power to control time and space. Greg had discovered his power when he was just a teenager. He had been…
January 24, 2023
Poetry Peter Greenhall

My First Therapist

Imploding, Exploding, Fighting, And Hurting. Some of things I want to do, Cause much pain, To myself, And to others too. In my early 20's, Life's meant to be free, In my early 20's, Felt trapped within me. Raging inside, Volcanic activity, Some part of me…
January 24, 2023
Mystery Stories Emanuel Diaz

Let Me Protect You

It was a normal day for Arabella Barlow. She was working in her garden growing some of her vegetables to sell in her stall inside the Borough Market in London. She was at peace and content by doing this while she waited for her beloved husband Cenric Barlow.…
January 18, 2023
Flash Fiction Reen

Cold Chaos

An expected delay, the blue line will arrive in 8 minutes now. A smell of burning fire fills the startled air from the act of defrosting the CTA rail. While I take deep breaths, tiny droplets of liquid water and ice are seen in the air as a cloud. On this…
January 16, 2023
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The New Celtic Ode To The Dreamed Mother Nature

ABABACACA You are an enjoyable juniper! You are a pleasurable bush! You are an agreeable poplar! You are a delightful spruce! You are a gratifying cedar! You are an amusing birch! You are a diverting corn! You are a bonny pine! You are a lovely palm! Your…
January 16, 2023
Fantasy Stories Rafique Shabbir

The Return To Malneant

Almeric had not slept ever since the death of his wife whose murder was committed by his hands. He could not imagine what madness had impelled him to spill the blood of someone so pure and innocent. Nevertheless, the guilt manifested itself in his dreams as…
January 16, 2023
Poetry Peter Greenhall

Undercover Copper

I used to wear a uniform, Wore it brand new, Proud to be wearing that uniform, Happily arresting the scum amongst you. Football violence, Scuffles and domestics, Car crashes and possession, Total Mayhem. Undercover work, Is calling me, A bit cloak and dagger,…
January 16, 2023
Flash Fiction Emanuel Diaz

The Starry-Eyed One Maddening Sight

As Gustav Von Valentijn sat in front of The Starry Night, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over him. He had spent a small fortune to acquire the painting from the Museum of Modern Art in New York, and now it was the centerpiece of his sanctuary -…

She yelled so awfully loud... like she was right in my face, you know?

My friend Ryan and I were about twelve and we had been to see Batman at the cinema. Jack Nicholson was awesome as the Joker and as we walked home we kept trying to laugh like that, swapping lines from the movie.

It was late and my stepfather was supposed to pick us up, but he never arrived, more than likely too drunk to drive. We waited around for him, but when the town clock tolled at midnight it was obvious he wasn't coming. Ryan offered to call his parents, but being so young, and out so late, it seemed more adventurous to walk home.

The main street was well lit, so we agreed to stick to it. Ryan's concern was walking past the park. Street lights were few and far between from there and most people stayed clear of the park at night, especially since the MacKenzie baby drowned in the pond, and they said the child could be heard crying sometimes. I told the kids at school I'd heard it myself.

We crossed the street to avoid the park. I stopped to tie my shoelace.

A slight breeze whipped through the tree tops, branches creaked, and one of the park lights began flickering.

Ryan said, “ Hey, Joey... Notice there's no traffic? “

I did notice and it was really quiet, too, but then again it was after midnight.

He said, “ If I hear a kid cryin' in that park, I swear I'll shit my pants. “

“ Can you hear that? “ I asked.

“ Hear what? “

“ Your imagination playin' tricks on you. “

“ But you said you heard that kid's ghost. “

“ Yeah, I did, but I didn't see anythin', and no-one believed me anyway, except you. “

We kept walking and made it to the corner. My house was half a block away, but Ryan still had two blocks to go, past the high school.

He looked back at the park and gasped. I saw it, too. More lights were flickering.

“ I don't want to walk home alone, “ he said. “ I'll give you five bucks to walk with me. “

“ Yeah, okay, “ I said, “ but I'm not holdin' your hand. “

At the high school, Ryan looked back at the park again. He looked frightened now. Every light in the park was off and it was pitch black.

“ It's nothin', “ I told him. “ Happens all the time. I see it from my bedroom window. The council needs to clean that place up. It's a dump. “

“ A dump where babies drown and their ghosts cry in the night. “

We kept walking and turned the corner. Ryan was relieved to be so close to home. He gave me the five bucks. Easy money.

Not far from his house was a little white chipped paint cottage, with a wire fence and rusty gate, and no curtains in the windows. All the lights were off and as we walked past an old lady started yelling, “ I see you there! Don't you knock and run! Don't you dare!  “

“ That's freaky, “ I said. “ She sounds really angry. Old people should be asleep at this hour. Lets go have a look. “

I started towards the gate, only joking, and Ryan grabbed my arm, saying, “ Don't, man. That's too much. She might call the cops. “

“ Don't you knock and run! “ she yelled.

“ She really hates kids, “ Ryan said. “ I've heard her before, but never seen her. “

His mother and father were still up when we arrived. They were disappointed that we had to walk. We should have called them. They offered to let me stay, but I declined, and just wanted to go home.

“ See you tomorrow, “ Ryan said, closing the door.

As I walked home, I had to pass the cottage again, and sure enough, she was still yelling, but then she stopped, as I stood at the gate.

I heard her say, “ I'm cold and can't get up. “

Now I was worried. What if she was injured? She might die and I could have helped.

I opened the gate and left it open, approaching the house. She sounded like she was crying now. At the front door, I knocked lightly, saying, “ Hello? Do you need me to get you an ambulance? “

“ I'm so very cold, “ she said.

“ I can get you help. “

I went to the window and peered inside. As my eyes adjusted, I became aware of something, and every bone in my body wanted to run.

“ I see you there! “ she yelled, but I couldn't see her. “ Don't you knock and run! “

The window boomed and cracked. I fell backward, gathered my feet, and didn't stop running until I got home.

My mother was in the kitchen as I came through the back door.

She said, “ You're as white as a sheet. How was the movie? “

I ignored her and went directly to my room and sat on my bed, grabbing my knees to stop them from shaking.

 

That house was empty.

BIO: I live in Orange, NSW, Australia. I have one child -a daughter. I was born in 1977. My poetry has appeared in anthologies worlwide and my short stories have been featured in men's magazines. I cite James Herbert, Tales from the Crypt, vintage Penny Dreadfuls, and Ripley's Belueve It, or Not, as an influence.

 

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