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Latest Stories

January 05, 2026
General Stories Cody Wilkerson

Faith Valentine

With the day just getting started I’m excited for work. Today we receive our weekly mission at my job. I have been groomed into the family business, the perfect child, growing up excelling at everything. But a rebel at heart. When it comes to the job, no one…
January 05, 2026
Fantasy Stories M. R. Blackmoor

Mermaids And Sirens

...when a storm was coming on, and they anticipated that a ship might sink, they swam before it,and sang most sweetly of the delight to be found beneath the water, begging the seafarers not tobe afraid of coming down below.Hans Christian Anderson, The Little…
January 05, 2026
General Stories Thomas Turner

Invisible Vampires

Tennessee wheats decided to check out the massive car accident pile up on the main strip. She thought that this kind of stuff has been going on for the past year, constantly. Nothing could explain what happened. This woman did an efficient job at tracking the…
January 05, 2026
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The Contemplative Flower Of Violet

The mellow flower of violet is a fineness of the violet's blossom in the moonlight however the small eternity happens in an enchanting woodland solitude genus Viola is minor but wonderful and subtle so tranquil the last night was when a sylvan dream was…
January 05, 2026
Flash Fiction Nelly Shulman

The King of Paris

Louis valued the dry autumn leaves. The dirty coat, the stained blanket, and the old newspapers kept the heat, but the bed of leaves was the best. It wasn’t so cold anyway for the middle of October. Smoking a cigarette butt from his stash, Louis wondered…
January 05, 2026
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

A Killer’s Confession

Ralph Bozeman was a very big man that stood six foot five and weighed just under three hundred pounds of fat and some muscle. He was a pale, average looking white man with dark eyes and brown hair that he kept clipped short. He owned his own business as an…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Tom Kropp

Messiah In The Congo

Booming thunder and pouring rain rocked the L.A. night like a hurricane. White lightning flashed across the black sky, illuminating the dark clouds rolling by. Below the rolling heavens soared long, flowing streams of light that were hovercars in flight,…
December 22, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murderers Meet Mongrel

Lily didn't think her new doorbell and little dog would save her life, but both did. Lily was a lovely little Latina, 21 years old. Her little mutt had been named Foxy, due to her fox coloring. Lily's new doorbell frightened Foxy so much that she ran and hid…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Tom Kropp

Foxy's Doorbell Destruction

Lily didn't think her new doorbell and little dog would save her life, but both did. Lily was a lovely little Latina, 21 years old. Her little mutt had been named Foxy, due to her fox coloring. Lily's new doorbell frightened Foxy so much that she ran and hid…
December 22, 2025
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The 11 Dazzling Verses

The dreameries need Blue Hours. The Blue Hours would need a sun's afterglow. The red sky in the evening longs for a delight. The delight wants a homeland. The native land wanted a literature. The writings are willing to manifest a reality. The epiphany was…
December 22, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murder And Manslaughter

Felipe was born poor in a shack in Honduras. His family all lived in the same room with a dirt floor and considered themselves lucky to have electricity. But they didn't have indoor plumbing. They had to use an outhouse. They used a communal pump for safe…
December 22, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

The Annoyingly Loud Monkey

I decline all noisy, wordy, confused, and personal controversies. Josiah Warren Johnny was an aging Venezuelan red howler (Alouatta seniculus), a fat, medium-sized, male monkey that inhabited the northern edge of the rainforests of tropical South America. His…

When I was a boy there were tales of a lady in the lake.

During the Summer months, my friends and I would ride our bicycles out there, and swim all day. Sometimes, we would take a tent, and camp out there, our parents thinking that we were having a sleep over at Joe's.

We would tell stories, trying to scare each other, and it would work, because none of us would get a wink of sleep, convinced that wild pigs might attack us, or Donny Brooke's pitbull was loose, and hunting us down. Never did we did tell ghost stories, though, because ghosts are like fairies, just something made up.

Ghosts do exist. I know now.

We were aware that people had occasionally drowned in the lake, their bodies later found tangled in the reeds. My father had been a rescue worker and told me that sometimes they would find a floater, have to slide a piece of board beneath them, remove the body that way, because the skin would be tissue thin, and brittle. He said that one time he removed a body and his fingers sunk right into them, tearing away their flesh.

My mother stressed the most, saying, “ Don't swim beneath the surface, David. Those reeds are dangerous. Beth lives in them. She'll get you. “

Beth...

Beth had been a girl who went to school with my mother and father. She was the girl with a bright future, so everyone thought. Her future was cut short by a boating accident. The propeller cut her head up and they found her a week later. She was submerged deep, tangled in those reeds.

Boys will be boys and we challenged each other to swim down to them, ignoring old wive's tales, to feel the slime upon them, to see how they wriggled and waved, like slender green fingers.

I swam down there.

Beth was beautiful and I was mesmerised.

She quickly grabbed my arm and dragged me deeper into the reeds. Her face changed and I saw what had happened to her, how she had been scalped, her face thrashed, and broken. She shrieked at me, I was terrified, and that's how I drowned.

 

End

 

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

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