Horror
Desolation of Time
The pain pierced scream cut off in a gurgle somewhere out in the darkness. “Matthias”, his brain whispered as he rocked frenetically in his hiding place. That same brain was working slowly, slowly to withdraw from reality; to distance itself from the actuality that this was to be his final day of breath. Only Jamie’s locket, held tightly clenched in an icy hand, anchored him where he was.
By J. Michael Gorday5 years ago in Fiction
Trapped With A Monster
"I'm sorry." he mumbled with a soft raspy voice, "How'd it end up this bad?" he flipped to his back, and stared at the cracks on the ceiling. Reminiscing moments without aching sore pain. "God, please kill me. I deser..." Clenching his bloody broken fist. With a thin silver chain wrapped around. And hanging on was a small heart-shaped locket.
By Chris p dub5 years ago in Fiction
A Heart Shape Locket
The locket had meant many things to Jared, but first and foremost it had been a promise to Gwen to survive. The events of that day still haunted him, and although he no longer had the nightmares, he will always struggle with how they were abandoned to fend for themselves. By the authorities, by their friends, they were forced to defend themselves against roving packs of zombies and looters alike, all because they did not want to leave their home to fate or allow it to be destroyed. How naive he had been, if he had known what was to come, leaving as a group to form a new community or to try and keep up with the retreating military did not seem like such an awful idea now, but that was one of the many, sometimes painful, lessons Jared had learnt over the years. What he had seen and been forced to do to survive had twisted him and made him bitter. The people he had lost and the betrayals over the years all weighed heavy on Jared, but the one thing that kept him going was his promise to Gwen as she lay dying in his arms had become his sole purpose.
By Duncan Ainsworth5 years ago in Fiction
Dove Man's Secret
Most serfers in New Arcadia Zone were convinced the dove was made of porcelain. It was too shiny to be anything else, and ceramic would be too fragile. Still, it was difficult to catch more than a glimpse. Its owner kept it concealed inside an old silk glove, its head jutting out of the thumb hole. One of the oldsters, Senor Cortez, said it resembled the turkeys kids used to make at school around Thanksgiving.
By Steven Fluharty5 years ago in Fiction
The Descendant of Gaia
Now, it was all up to me. As blood-thirsty demons were roaming our beloved planet Earth, I had the option to either let these hellish creatures devour humankind. However, my second option was to destroy every single human being and the malevolent, malicious demons. I must say – that option was highly tempting. Either way, every person would die. The humans would be no more…for now, perhaps.
By Leona Valentine5 years ago in Fiction
A page from a diary
"Today is the worst I dream of liboration! How I wish to give you my heart and for you to accept it. Maybe I will let you kiss me. maybe more!.." -"MAYBE MORE?? Hahaha.. Patricia needs liboration" Exhaled a heavy-set boy with a fire-red hair and shook a flimsy piece of paper he read from. His unpleasant face carried a constant haughty grimace, and his closely placed pig eyes darted quickly from side-to side. In addition his whole being was drowning in freckles, sticking to him like flies to cows' behind on hot summer day. The boy, who fatso was reading to, stood quietly, looking away. His pale cheeks stained by quickly spreading scarlet spots, announcing his embarrassment. He grabbed the paper and ran his eyes across it. Then, pulling out a black sharpie, he pressed the paper to his knee and made a correction: "LibErated" added a few commas and wrote "FOOL" at the bottom of the page. He crumpled the paper and chucking it in the bushes stomped away, with the fat villan trudging behind him. After a few moments a skinny hand extended from the bush and grabbed the balled up paper. There, crouching on dry leaves sat Patricia - the reason for school disturbances and the cause for reinforced vents around the boys' showers. The mastermind of colluding and the president of cahoots. The bearer of torch for Ben and the crusader of broken heart.
By Salomé Saffiri5 years ago in Fiction
BEWARE OF THE RED HEART-SHAPED LOCKED
BEWARE OF THE HEART-SHAPED LOCKET “Beware of the red heart-shaped locket!” “Beware of the red heart-shaped locket!” Over and over again, my ears were hearing these words, but I could not comprehend from where they were coming. I kept on looking around – trying to “listen” with my eyes, as my ears seemed to be failing me – where were those words coming from? Maybe my eyes could find the source of these words, since my ears did not seem to be cooperating. I was totally befuddled – and, to be honest — somewhat scared. Scared because I did not seem to be able to stop from hearing them – over and over – over and over!
By ELIZABETH HoSAM5 years ago in Fiction
TLBOH
It’s a quiet evening in the city and the moon has risen deep and proud into the night sky. There is a brisk wind that is enough to cause goosebumps on the neck and down the arm. One would notice that as there is silence in the air, the feeling of something sinister going on screams about to create just a slight ringing in the ears.
By James Venechanos 5 years ago in Fiction
