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Latest Stories

August 28, 2025
General Stories Eric Haggen and Absalom

Knight Of Honor

Blake Wright rode his horse London through the farm country southwest of Belgrade Serbia. Blake was wearing his armor without a helmet. Blake heard dogs barking. Blake pulled back on the reins and said "Stop." London stopped. The dogs continued to bark. Blake…
August 28, 2025
Romance Stories P.D. Ravel

Walls Of Love

Her My walls are the pillars of my existence and of my survival. But for you they seem like obstacles that have to be overcome. You keep ignoring the fact that I have built wall after wall after wall hiding away from suffering. Trying to conceal my heart. But…
August 28, 2025
Poetry Markus J

Today's Sad Sonnet

I don't believe in organized religion but i do believe in a supreme being and his opposite-destroying with a mind invasion wrapped up as compassion-his evil doing once there was a thing called tolerance where people could freely express different opinions now…
August 28, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Carousel of the Blind

I could no longer cast from my soul the conviction, each time stronger and better supported,that the blind controlled the world: through the nightmares and the hallucinations,the plagues and the witches, the soothsayers and the birds, the snakes and, in…
August 28, 2025
Horror Stories Jackson Strauss

The Walk Home

It was the most beautiful day ever. The sun shone through cold and crisp air, and there was barely a cloud in the sky. Jack had finished all his schoolwork, household tasks, and martial arts training for the week and was ready to walk to the local cinema to…
August 28, 2025
Romance Stories Nelly Shulman

The Homecoming

“Is it customary now to send an invitation for every tiny and insignificant event in one’s life?” Harriet waved a cream-colored card, taken out of the company-logoed envelope. “And on paper, no less,” she added scathingly. “Green business, kiss my ass. Never…
August 28, 2025
Flash Fiction Jim Harrington

One Of A Kind

One of a Kind “Don’t run on the sidewalk, Nathan. You’ll fall and hurt yourself. Remember the last time?” “Dad said it was okay, because I’m four and I heal quickly.” He turned a sad face to his mom. “Unlike Auntie Karen.” Alice felt her knees buckle and…
August 28, 2025
General Stories Fred Gielow

A Talk With God

God: “Jonathan Earl Benson!” Benson: “Who said that? Who’s there? I don’t see anyone.” God: “Mr. Benson, it is I, the Almighty.” Benson: “Oh, my god!” God: “That is correct.” Benson: “But, I can’t see you. Where are you?” God: “I am all about, Mr. Benson. Do…
July 23, 2025
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

Mad Scene

Oh, happy day! At last, I am yours, at last you are mine; God gives you to me. Every pleasure is more gratifying, life will be a smile from merciful heaven for us! Salvadore Cammarano / Gaetano Donizetti, Lucia di Lammermoor, Act III, Scene 2 Arturo, an…
July 23, 2025
Horror Stories Markus J

The Mystery Inside The Fog

The darkness, a shroud of terror. The house`s emptiness called to my mind's fears and it was feeding my imagination. I buried myself in my beds covering blankets. “there... as snug as a bug in a rug," I said to myself and tried to think about anything else…
July 23, 2025
Flash Fiction George Vu

The Best Movie Time Ever

After finishing dinner, they hurried to the Major Cineplex Hall to catch the movie. It was already 7:40 pm, and they were cutting it close. The automatic ticket machine wouldn’t allow them to purchase tickets as it was more than 30 minutes after the showtime.…
July 08, 2025
General Stories Michael Barlett

Dance Of Death

CHAPTER ONE 1940 Chief Inspector Kenneth Langford offered the Commissioner a crisp salute, and then walked back through the labyrinth of passageways to his own small office. Langford was a member of the London Metropolitan Police, commonly referred to as…

Do people who've gone insane recognize the changes they've gone through that got them where they are? What I mean to say is do they know they are going crazy? Are they helpless to the events happening to their minds? Or are they oblivious to the events, making their life an ever morphing horror movie? Both sound very intriguing, I don't think I could choose one way or another. I think the journey alone is an adventure worth experiencing. Which brings me to the paradoxical question am I sane? Conventionally no, but I understand this. This is why I will choose and not allow time or fate to make a choice for me.

I have an overwhelming amount of hate growing inside me, though I am not sure who the hate is meant for. I hate me, for allowing myself to be the butt of every joke and the punching bag for every degenerate and miscreant of my town. And I hate all of them, not for what they have done to me but at the end of the day, in their eyes I don't exist. How can someone who has lived here their whole lives, and taken so much abuse not exist. The mail man who broke my nose while in a drunken rage, didn't deliver my mail for three weeks because he didn't realize someone lived in my house. He thought it was abandoned. The mailman is my neighbor.

So today I load every magazine, And oil every firearm, I tie my boots tight and prepare to make them recognize me. Machiavelli proposed an interesting choice. Wether you want to be feared or loved. I lost the capability to love long ago. Today I practice fear.

As I walked out of my house draped with 2 pistols, a semi-automatic rifle and a 12 gauge pump shotgun, I was ready. When I made it to the street, I was startled by a man sprinting towards me like a rabid dog. Swallowing my fear deep into the pit of my stomach, I raised my Colt .45 caliber 1911 and fired at the man. The loud noise of the shot made me jump, so much so I almost dropped my pistol. So shaken up by the power of the pistol itself, I almost forgot to look at the damage done to the attacking citizen. The round had hit the man in his left elbow severing it from the joint, the rest of his forearm now hanging on by a small piece of flesh. In the 3 seconds it would have taken the man to reach me by this point, I had a full conversation with myself. How did the round not stop the man immediately? The shock from something like that would surly incapacitate anyone. I fired again hitting the man in his chest. The force from the round knock the man of his feet, yet the man was not dead. As my tunnel vision dissipates I can clearly see my surrounding, the fog of hatred made my senses dull. The man was disfigured, it looked as if he was mauled on the neck and face. I shot him a third time, this time in the head. He ceased to move any longer.

It figured, the day I choose to take the lives of my fellow town people, they had turned to zombies. This is the best conclusion based on the most current of events. At this moment I wonder if this is an hallucination; a symptom of my pending insanity. I continue onward. The noise of the three shots had drawn the attention of more living dead. Pulling the rifle off my shoulder I began shooting, aiming high in hope of head shots. Almost simultaneously from my right I heard screaming. And out of the corner of my eye I saw a young woman being mauled by the dead. She became a zombie immediately and started looking for her next living meal. I need to remember this! Walking the town I must have killed hundreds of zombies. It had seemed if I had killed them all. If anyone was still alive I would be considered a hero, if they saw what I was doing and how I saved the world I would be famous. I would be noticed. And maybe loved.

From where I was standing I could see a man sitting hunched over near the doors of town hall. As I got closer it was someone I knew and some what respected, he had a needle in his arm. A definite overdose. I kicked his foot and the man tried to move but was unable to get to his feet. With its arms raised he tried his best to grab me and try to make me his next meal. I decided to make this kill for mercy and not for my own personal gratification. I put the last bullet that I was saving for myself in the event of an emergency, through his head and removed the needle. From the door next to me I heard whispers. It sounded like people were hiding out waiting for the National Guard. One of the more desperate patrons inside opened the door to see if help was outside. It was my mailman. He asked who I was and if I was there to help them. He continued to explain how there were hundreds inside and the place was heavily fortified. As I walked inside and my mailman chained and locked the front door, I jammed the needle that was still in my hand into my thigh. Now I will show them fear.

 

End

 

My name is Thomas Berman, I have been a fan of horror my entire life. Horror for me is a way to live out my darkest and deepest fantasy. I encourage everyone to try to write and never let anyone tell you what you are doing is foolish or dumb. It is foolish or dumb NOT TO TRY. Life is for the living, do what makes you happy.

 

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