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Latest Stories

July 28, 2018
Mystery Stories Roger Ley

The Wheel Fiddle

The melody drifted across the garden as she was picking fruit to make a summer pudding. She put down her basket, wiped the sweat from her forehead and walked around to the front of the cottage. The man stood waiting at her garden gate, he raised his cap. He…
July 28, 2018
Flash Fiction Rekha Viswanathan

Pills and Capsules

I wake up to a crisp, clear and sunny morning. The fresh coffee smell beside my bed tempts me. One long sip of the coffee and my senses kick in! I have a long day ahead. At least that's what the papers at the foot of my bed say. Glancing at the paper I see…
July 28, 2018
Crime Stories Stephen A Murray


There existed in Russia a small group of intelligence operatives left over from the KGB. They are known as Sputniks. From Wikipedia: "Sputnik was the first artificial Earth satellite. The Soviet Union launched it into an elliptical low Earth orbit on October…
July 28, 2018
General Stories Paul Anobile

A Portrait of Slam Bang City

I was hired to paint the portrait of a billionaire who founded a small city twenty years ago in a ghost town he purchased in Arizona. Danny O’Keefe, professional wrestling promoter and executive, convinced a number of investors to build a fourteen-thousand…
July 28, 2018
Science Fiction Stories Majoki

The Deadest Generation

Sergeant Taylor always checked us thoroughly before sending us in: regulation uniform, backpacks, anti-ballistic helmets, Kevlar vests, and, of course, your gun. You couldn’t go anywhere in this place and be safe without your gun. Sergeant Taylor was strict…
July 28, 2018
General Stories J.B.Stevens

Dead Camel

The improvised explosive popped off to the convoy’s left. The armored black Suburban Neil drove muffled the sound to a dull thud. The blast seemed smaller than normal. “Anyone hurt?” the medic, Luiz, called across the radio. The team members, in four matching…
July 28, 2018
Romance Stories Jerry Hogan

He'll Ask Me To Dance Again

Jay I’m Jay, and I have never been to the My Time Dance Studio before tonight. As I entered, the interior projected a garish 1930s Art Deco motif. Greenish, glow-in-the-dark, semilucent plastic tubing wrapped around the hand railings separating one sitting…
July 28, 2018
General Stories Jim Bartlett

The Comebacker

Cornstalk stretches forward, the look almost as if he’s about to fall headfirst off the mound, saved only by the slapping of his left hand to his knee. He locks eyes with his catcher, then lets his gaze wander down just below his glove for the sign. Uncle…
July 28, 2018
Crime Stories Susan C. Nigra

Never Kill The Author

Oh My God! What’s happening? This has never happened before. I am cornered, trapped, boxed in with no safe way out. There has always been a way out before, miraculous last minute saves. I think back to how I got here and I remember I was assigned this case as…
July 28, 2018
Crime Stories Thomas Schmidt

The Streets of Camden

Saturday night was cold and wet. Mike Joseph walked cautiously down Norris Street on his way to the Whitman Park Field, a large green space inside the depressed neighborhood. Propositioned twice by street walkers, he kept moving while shifting his head from…
July 13, 2018
Mystery Stories Rekha Viswanathan

The Enchanted Woods

The boys are on a trip. A trip into the woods. Accompanied by their family they trudge along a narrow path, a route that had obviously been traced by human footsteps, a trail that had been trodden many a time. They walk cautiously, startled by the snap of a…
July 13, 2018
Flash Fiction Carl Perrin

What Could go Wrong

If you plan every detail carefully, nothing can go wrong. I believed that when I was a teenager. Like the time Billy Long and I decided to make our own beer. Once in a while we used to steal a couple of Billy’s father’s beers, but we were always afraid we…



Winter had passed, but it was never the cold that kept John Parker awake. The etched rock provided some respite, as he surveyed the Peruvian Andes. The hollow calm of the white mountain tips filled his mind. Nocturnal arousals kept him awake through intermittent periods of sleep. Only the five of them made it here.

By the time scientists discovered high altitude was the only protection against the plague, it was too late. It started in Mali. Was it really so unpredictable? The luster of the African kings that shone so bright, now dead and forgotten corpses among the impoverished masses. Did humanity not deserve this?

Could the sovereignty of the Elite foresee the cataclysmic repercussions of their unsustainable reign? It was over in a fortnight. It was as if the animal kingdom made a decision to end us. To send us all back to the ice age. It was only fatal to Homo sapiens, naturally.

The first symptoms resembled nothing more than the common cold. A monster only

only revealing itself when in contact with a healthy host. When the lips went grey and the eyes bulged from their sockets, it was too late.

Then it began. The insanity. The howling laughter that made grown men scream and run with terror. Laughing Cannibals, was the last news headline to reach the public.

It was only later determined on scans, that the tainted brain was inhuman. A demented deformity that could only be described as alien. The children were more prone to infection. The pathogen favored them above older cells. It tracked them down like a predator. It was first assumed that the tainted were targeting children because of easy prey, but how wrong were they. It took three days for the pathogen to take full control. Like a bacterium taking human form.

People were used to seeing zombies on the silver screen, but nothing could have prepared them for this. A smart virus that could take over every aspect of a person’s character and make it their own. No one would suspect anything, until the hunger came. And when it came, it showed no remorse. There was nothing but pleasure on their faces while chewing through human flesh.
Carrie Parker was twelve years old. Short velvet hair always hung tidy above her shoulders. She was a good girl. "Yes daddy," she would always reply amiably, when asked to

do the chores, olivaceous eyes glistening like morning dew. The car slewed into the drive-way. When he got to the front door it was ajar. Bloody fingers painted waves on the walls. When he got to the kitchen, Carrie was feeding. Tiles were stained in a pool of her mother's blood. With flesh and blood between her adolescent teeth. Her eyes were no different, in her eyes she was still the same.

She was a good girl, he would keep saying to himself. Maybe the thought kept him sane, or maybe it kept him from slipping off the rocky glacier. It would be so easy. A simple fall to end it all. Would it be unkind to leave them behind?

Beth cooper, the ugliest twenty year old he has ever laid his eyes on. Freckles populated her skin like a virus. In fact he would not be surprised if her nipples were freckled as well. Yet she was the kindest person he had ever set his eyes on.

Caitlyn Mcleod, a young vibrant teen. She was studying art at the university of Cambridge. How her pond blue eyes ended up with him was a vague recollection blurred by all the chaos that was eating away at his sanity.

Bill and Roger Bank were brothers working in the gold mine up here when it collapsed. How only they survived, and the other thirty thousand people that once populated this plane not, is a mystery beyond his comprehension. Yet he senses they know. But would he ask them? No.

Any person could see the scars of the memory on their face. The pain and anger emanated from them like a storm cloud.

Yes, they were five now. He could not know recall how many they had lost

since the escape. There was never going to be a cure. He had seen it in his daughter's eyes. She knew. Those that couldn't flee fast enough were either dead or dying now. He could bet his life on it. In the end the only refuge from the virus was as high up as possible. The Cessna 172 lay in ruins at the base of the glacierized mountainside. It took all the luck from the God's to get them here.

John Parker got to his feet. Trudging down the icy path, he saw them, huddled around the fire. The distant laughter reached him late. Was he finally going crazy? No. He was certain. They were laughing. When he finally touched down on the icy plane he could see it on their faces. The cheer he never thought he'd see again. Glowing faces and rotten teeth. Smiling teeth, but rotten. It was like watching the reincarnation of humanity. Then for the first time in three years John Parker smiled.




Aspiring author from South Africa.


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