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Latest Stories

February 02, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

My Second Middle Name

San Lázaro no quiere palabras, quiere hechos. Popular Cuban refrain A few hours after I was born, my parents had a conversation regarding my name. The usual practice in Cuba, as in many other countries, was that a baby would have two given names apart from…
February 02, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

Year One

T J Tuner, Sonny Turner and Curt Chown January 4, 1976- Ocean avenue, Brooklyn New York: Sonny and his wife are having coffee at 5pm Sunday. His wife’s name is Candy. This is when Candy asks ‘When are they picking you up?’ Sonny says ‘7:30 pm.’ Candy asks…
February 02, 2026
Horror Stories Tom Kropp

Werewolf Bar Brawl

Shannon returned to the main street and boldly approached the cantina. At the doorway, one of the burly guards boldly said, "We don't allow no outside whores in here. Only Diego's girls are allowed to work here." "Don't insult me. I'm not a whore. I just…
February 02, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Self-Serving Giraffe

Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live. Oscar Wilde Grumpff was a Somali giraffe male (Giraffa reticulata) in a herd that inhabited a dry savannah in northern Kenya. He was eighteen feet tall and two…
February 02, 2026
Poetry Markus J

An Aussie Had A Barry Crocker

once an Aussie had a Barry Crocker when he got fined from an angry copper he smoked up his golden ute then said it was real beaut because of this, the fine was made double and his best mate was nicked named blue cooked kangaroo and emu stew gave none to…
February 02, 2026
Crime Stories Shane Horton

Super Detectives (Queen Bee)

The smoke of my cigarette dances on the fire of its embers while I breathe in the tar. Chills silently run along my body from the slow breezes of the city. Exposed skin is cold like chunks of ice from the late winter. Honking, common yelling, and occasional…
February 02, 2026
Science Fiction Stories Tom Kropp

Eye Of The Cyborg

Fierce winds whipped across the blood red desert of Dumar and its stormy scarlet skies were filled with soaring starships. A large city sparkled in the hellish light, safe from the storm behind flickering photonic forcefields. It was a volatile planet prone…
January 27, 2026
General Stories J.P. Young

Bittersweet Christmastide In A Winter Wonderland

“Our sweetest songs are those of saddest thought.” ― Percy Bysshe Shelley “It”s always sumtin”, ain”t it?” – Rico Long ago and far away…Things were like the good old days…and as Rico said, Ray lived for the good olddays…As his wife Katrina was working late at…
January 27, 2026
Fantasy Stories Fayaway & Hermester Barrington

Three Days' Flight to Mitrúvishar

Wednesday, November 20th, 2024 From: John Parchment <dragonwriter@mitruvishar.com> To: Emmett Zuntz <ezuntz@majicorpmedia.com> Dear Mr. Zuntz, thou ASCII Mephistopheles, I hereby tender my resignation to Majicorp Media. When I left my secure-but-boring…
January 26, 2026
Mystery Stories John A. Tures

I Know What You Did On This Date

“I know what you did on this date.”Tom Duvall stared at the note for the third time, observing its fancy script and blue ink,written in cursive. Below the words were numbers, looking just as fancy: 2/15/25.He licked his lips, body fidgeting in the highbacked…
January 26, 2026
Flash Fiction Matias Travieso-Diaz

Maximus Unbound

Life may change, but it may fly not; Hope may vanish, but can die not; Truth be veiled, but still it burneth; Love repulsed -but it returneth. Percy Bysshe Shelley, Prometheus Unbound Maximus was a prime specimen of male blue morpho menelaus butterfly. He was…
January 12, 2026
Fantasy Stories Garry Harman

Podmate

Looking out from under cover, the hungry creature’s sensors twitched nervously as it searched for danger. It was dark and that was good. How long it would stay dark was a mystery. Often, the bright light came slowly, soothingly. Sometimes it came suddenly and…

I never knew my mother. She left when I was very young. My family told me stories about her, they told me she loved me, but they would not tell my why she left. That truth came when I became an adult. It came after I was married, after I had a child of my own. My life was supposed to be normal until then, as normal as it could be under the circumstances. My people needed me to be normal. They needed me to have children. They needed me to love and to feel loved. It was a necessary part of the tradition.

When I turned twenty eight I learned my mother’s fate. Mother had gone to live inside the Kraken. It was a monster that lived in the sea. It was the queen of the monsters. She was the largest and strongest of her kind and ruled over her brood, her many children. They were massive beasts that stood taller than our tallest skyscrapers. They came in the thousands devouring everything in their path. They came to destroy us with fire, ice, and lightning. We had tried to stop them with conventional weaponry, but our atom bombs were more damaging to us than they were to the monsters.

So we hid like rats. We survived. We rebuilt our civilization, and our scientists came up with a new strategy. They called it the traditional sacrifice. There would be no more bombs, no more missiles, no more guns. Instead we would sway the Kraken’s heart with love and compassion. This new technology determined the fate of my grandmother and her mother and my mother and my children. They would sacrifice me to the beast, implant my love for my son in the Kraken’s heart so all the people of earth would become her children.

I went willingly to meet my mother, catapulted across the sky in a translucent sphere, the vehicle of our new technology. It was a ship, an orb filled with a living mucus in which I floated. Ailerons on the hull guided my craft through the air ensuring my success. I would enter through her nose, a pair of massive holes on the front of her flat face. I was so tiny in comparison it was almost imposible to miss. But I was blind to all of these things. Operating the craft was not my job. I was just a passanger. I was just a piece of the machine.

The orb was sucked in as the Kraken prepared her next roar. Inside her head my ship dispensed with its little wings as it flexed and tumbled along the beasts inner membranes. Long thin claws grew in their place, tearing at the creatures flesh to halt my momentum. I heard them popping and stretching and breaking and hooking again as they brought my craft to a stop.

It was dark now. I am not a scientist, but I was aware of how the sphere worked. It began stealing nutrients from my host to sustain me. It would grow legs like a spider and begin the journey up to the brain. I felt the beast clawing at her nose though I was sure my craft was causing her little pain. The ship was designed to invade her skull, not kill her or torture her. This was a surgical operation designed to reach her grey matter.

When the hull contacted her brain I could feel her rage transmitting through the ship’s mucus into my mind. But this connection was a two way street. I was a pychic infection, and she could feel me. I came here to tell her about a baby boy living in the city she was about to destroy. But I didn’t come just to talk, I came to make her feel what I felt. I let her feel the love I had from my son, and she in turn let me feel the love she had for her children. Our love became one, and we decided to let my people live another day. We called her children back to the sea and saved my world from destruction.

My society would live another day, perhaps another decade or longer until the antibodies in the beast’s brain ate their way through my ships hull. Then the Kraken would forget my love for my son and return for the next sacrifice. But by then maybe my son would be a man with his own children. And perhaps on that day the beast will discover the love in his heart.

About the Author:  A. I. Bloom has worked as a web designer, a fine artist, a home renovator, and a stage hand in theatre. He’s from Minnesota and loves cooking, playing with his cats, and watching movies on Netflix. He started writing fantasy and science fiction short stories for fun during college and was encouraged by friends and family to publish his work. MATILDA THE STONE FAIRY was Bloom’s first published piece of fantasy fiction. Look for more of his work in 2015.

 

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