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Latest Stories

June 23, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

Lucky Number Seven

1995- Sonny and Candy have been in Iowa for a few years now. He makes a list of his lucky number seven friends 1-Pastor Joseph F Wall (Pastor of Christ of King Church .River landing city.) 2-Dennis Mason(general manager of hills mall. Also Captain of the Iowa…
June 23, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Fawn In The Forest

So they walked on together through the wood, Alice with her arms clasped lovinglyround the soft neck of the Fawn, till they came out into another open field, and herethe Fawn gave a sudden bound into the air, and shook itself free from Alice's…
June 14, 2026
Horror Stories Paula Bernstein

Midnight Snack

I have always preferred to stalk my victims in the winter. I love the early sunsets and the long chill nights which allow a long foreplay to the final ecstasy of sinking my teeth into that vulnerable place, feeling my mouth fill with the gush of warm juice.…
June 07, 2026
Romance Stories Linda Boroff

Charlotte's Law

Charlotte always arrived at work half an hour early. She left her apartment at 7:15 each morning, brown bag in hand, to wait beside a car rental agency for the 7:22 Wilshire Boulevard bus, a tall, broad-beamed secretary with plump knees in miniskirt and high…
June 07, 2026
Fantasy Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

Aurora’s Blemish

A storm tests the strength of roots, not the beauty of leaves. Aloo Denish Obiero Once upon a time there was a king whose domains extended far and wide, making him the envy of his neighbors. All was well with him save for a lingering misfortune: the queen had…
June 07, 2026
Horror Stories Nicholas Kellogg

Playtime With Lolly Polly

Emily sat in her red Subaru afraid that when her wheels touched the curb it had torched their integrity. She looked down at her phone— that same background photo of her and mom posing at the bottom of some mountain they’d climbed long ago, looking back. Her…
June 07, 2026
General Stories Marvel Chukwudi Pephel

The Wondrous Life of Evelyn Sawyer

It is simply beautiful, like the sight of butterflies on yellow leaves, to have the gift of imagination. It is simply, even undoubtedly, a largely held notion – unless you were born on some other planet – that babies should cry when they come. But Evelyn…
June 07, 2026
Horror Stories Tom Kropp

The Wendigo’s Disciple

The wendigo exploded out of the underbrush in a rush that human eyes could barely follow. Seven year old Robert watched out the window of his cabin in horrified disbelief. The wendigo resembled a cross between some kind of bipedal dark demon and deer with…
June 07, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

Living Life On Life's Terms

Written by Thomas Turner. Dictated by Richard Turner. Advised by Curt Chown Sonny is talking to Curt and Tom about his family. Curt says ‘You can't undo the past. Look at your life now. You did a lot of great things. You have a wife, kids and friends. You…
May 18, 2026
Horror Stories Tom Kropp

Chupacabra Demon Hunt

“It’s the Chupacabra,” Andres declared while glancing warily around the grassy range under the pale moonlight. Dan frowned as he studied his dead goat. It was the fifth goat he’d found in the past weeks with two messy puncture wounds in the neck and very…
May 18, 2026
Fantasy Stories Charles E.J Moulton

Corners Of A Spiritual Room

When Juliet met Annabelle Lee, almost all they could talk about was the Mona Lisa. Was she really Francesco del Giocondo's wife, or was Mona actually Leonardo? His mother? Or someone completely different? “Well,” Juliet countered, “you know it was actually…
May 18, 2026
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

Three Autumnal Tales

I. Changes Pass Eighty By the time you’re 80 years old you’ve learned everything. You only have to remember it. I often say that the life of a human is like an American football game. During the first quarter (ages 0 to 20) one grows, develops, matures,…

The rust-coloured blood flakes off my hands and falls to the ground like snow. Grime is caked underneath my fingernails and twigs nest in my hair. My shirt is torn, boots covered in mud. My throat is closing with my heart beating out of my chest. Sweat drips down me in rivulets. Muscles tensing up, I can't shake the feeling that someone is watching me; following my every move.

 I hide my shaking hands in my coat pockets and walk down the busy street with an eerie calm. My head held high, I refuse to make eye contact with anyone, least they figure out my secret.

 I can picture him now. Lying in the forest while his blood slowly seeps into the earth. His glassy eyes take in the stars above him. His left leg crooked at an odd angle. His brain peeks out from his caved in head with a piece of alabaster skull barely concealing it. And his auburn hair frames his head like a halo. The perfect end to a sick, sadistic bastard’s life.

 I stop imagining Jake’s body as I feel acid creep up my throat. I just need to relax. I am not guilty.

“Excuse me! Miss!”

I freeze as I hear those words, my body locking into place. Chills creep down my spine and needles pierce my skull. My mind goes blank as I turn slowly. The policeman stalks towards me as he reaches for his handcuffs. Instead he produces my wallet.

“You dropped this back there.”

With trembling hands I take the item and catch his eye as he notes the remaining spots of blood covering my wrists. Before he can question me I turn around and scurry away.

 I keep a steady pace and round the corner onto my street. It’s deathly quiet and littered with junk. Puddles reflect back the soft glow of the street lights. A shadow moves behind me and I flash back to the night I first saw Jake. How he looked at me, how he smiled. How he muffled my screams as he touched me.

 Before that moment I did actually think he was hot. I’d heard rumours about him toying with girl’s feelings and I told myself that I wouldn't let him get to me. He had other ideas.

 I tried to block that first night out, convince myself it was just a nightmare. I never woke up. Jake wasn't done with me and I became something he could play with.

 He took my security from me, turning my home into a place where I didn't feel safe. I felt like I didn't belong in my own skin as he made my body his own. I tried to scrub his smell off of me, tried to remove the feeling of his hands. But it never worked.

 The little shit deserved what I did to him. I will forever be plagued by him, always looking over my shoulder, wondering if he’s lurking in the shadows.

 I unlock my front door and spot a figure at the end of the street. Ignoring them, I shuffle into the chilly darkness where silence greets me. I fumble along the wall for the light switch, my eyes already playing tricks on me. The floorboards creak and groan as I tiptoe down the hallway; stairs barely holding my weight. The wind whistles through the old building like the haunted voices of ghosts. My bedroom is an icebox and I quickly flick on the heater. Shapes flit in the darkness just outside my vision, disappearing as soon as I turn my head. My hands clam, the hairs on my neck stand at attention and I tell myself I'm being paranoid. There's no one here. Only me.

Peeling back the soft covers of my bed, I settle in as the sheets envelop me in a hug. The adrenaline that flowed through me before leaves; in its place exhaustion and my eyes grow heavy with sleep. I’m trying to relax myself when a clanging comes from downstairs.

My eyes fly open and I’m instantly on high alert, getting out of bed and creeping towards the stairs. Pausing, I listen for any more commotion but am only met with the stillness of an empty house. After creeping back downstairs I head towards the kitchen. Pots and pans are strewn all over the floor and multiple draws are open. I start to freak, wondering if the intruder is still in my house. Walking through to the lounge, everything is as it was left. Same deal in the bathroom. I can't hear anyone else moving about and can't find anyone hiding, so whoever it was must've left. But why would someone break into my house just to mess up my kitchen?

 I move back upstairs and finally start to calm down when I see muddy footprints leading into my bedroom. There’s nothing on me to use as a weapon and my phone’s on my bedside table.  I follow the trail and ease my door open, cringing as it squeaks on its hinges. Peeking my head in, my eyes find an empty room with dirt all over the ground. What the hell? The blankets from my bed have been kicked off and my pillows have been slashed to pieces, a sea of feathers surrounding them.

 Something catches my eye on the mirror. I choke on air. FOR JAKE has been written on it in giant, red letters. Someone knows what I did and is here to get revenge. I stumble backwards.  Trip. Fall straight into someone's arms. They wrap around my waist and hold me captive.

“You know you deserve this,” comes a husky whisper at my ear. They cover my mouth and nose with some sort of fabric. When I breath in my nose is assaulted by the smell of chemicals. My heart drops. I start to go limp, fighting with all I've got to stay awake but it's no use. The edges of my vision start to go blurry until all I can see is darkness.

 

End

 

Bio: a girl from the ends of the earth trying to live her dream 

 

 

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