They Just ComeThey Just ComeThey Just Come1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Okay guys, I’m writing this as fast as I can right now so you’re going to have to bear with me since I’m running out of time.
Heh, time. That’s the one thing I thought I’ve always had a lot of. Time to kill, time to relax, time to sit back and do nothing. But as it turns out, I’m running out of it. It’s slowly dripping with each grain of sand into the abyss. And it’s been counting down for the past six weeks.
Now all I have left is a few hours at the most. Speaking of which, let’s get on that.
Now, for the people who’ve been following me on here, you all know who I am and for the few who just found this and don’t know me: I’m Jason. I’m about 5’9, got flat brown hair, hazel eyes, and you’ll usually find me wearing my beat up leather jacke
The Painter in the House Next to MineI was a rather sheltered kid. I lived in a town that was the picture of suburbia—white picket fences, well-trimmed lawns, and smiling blonde mothers, it had it all. It was a quiet, safe, lovely place to grow up. I was an only child, and I guess my childhood was pretty standard, if not a bit more privileged than some. That was, except for my neighbor, Mr. Howe.The Painter in the House Next to Mine22 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mr. Howe was a painter. He was slightly eccentric, as most artists are, but now I realize there was something a bit more sinister hiding behind the bags under his eyes and the smiles he forced to reassure everyone that he was doing just fine. He stood out from the rest of the community, but no one really disliked him. They mostly pitied him, a middle-aged man living alone with just his paintings to keep him company. As soon as Mr. Howe moved in, I liked him. I liked how he was different from everyone else around me. Naturally, I wanted to hang out over there, and Mr. Howe certainly didn't mind. I think he was quite lonely.
The Hoof Lady[Editor's Note: The following is a written account transcribed from a true story told by Brandon Starcevic at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ow3ziEqAyEI. Full credit belongs to him. Any alterations to the narrative are purely cosmetic, for better readability.]The Hoof Lady8 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Here we go. Okay.
My name is Brandon Starcevic. I'm from the Northwest Territories and I live in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. Everybody thinks since I joined the military, this is where I was posted. I'm here because I had to get away from something in my life before this.
We'll start from the beginning.
In about Grade 11 I was going to school, and I had quit working so I could focus on my grades (which didn't really help). My little brother though, he had quit school about a year or so before that -- it just didn't agree with him -- and he was working at a chicken barn. Every day his friend would come and pick him up in the morning and drop him off at night, and he would be covered with dirt, poop, stuff like that.
I was a simple man...It was simple day. I was simple man. I had a simple job… Had… I had a simple job…I was a simple man...8 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
I wake up to the sound of my child as he cries. Probably for breakfast. I check the clock. 8:15. I was not due for work in another hour. I go outside and fetch the papers. “Beware: Infant Trafficking” was on the headlines. I remember thinking to myself What horrible thing to do. I remember thinking about Henry. My 9-month-old baby. I check the clock again. 8:30.
I go upstairs and got dressed for work. A simply gray suit and matching tie. Nothing that stands out. I headed out to the drop off. You see; I’m a messenger. I take packages dropped off anonymously and drop them off at a designated spot. Most of the time, they are just love letters or the occasional drugs. Nothing to serious. The business thrives due to its respect of anonymity. We respect that people have secrets.
So at the drop off, I find 3 or so packages. All designated to different areas. The
Mercy/Three HoursRandi awoke in a cushioned armchair opposite a roaring fire that was framed by an elegant mantelpiece. The room she was now in looked strikingly similar to the one she had been in only moments ago – before she'd been knocked out by an unknown assailant. That room had been covered in a thick layer of dust, the upholstery sun-bleached and faded, shards of glass from a broken window gleaming amongst the debris. This room was an exact replica – minus the dust and glass. Even the fabric of the armchair was the same. It was as if she had fallen into another dimension in which this house was still occupied. But by who? Note to self, Randi thought, steer clear of creepy, derelict houses, no matter how inviting they may seem…Mercy/Three Hours22 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
A vague recollection stirred deep within the recesses of her mind; she remembered pitching forwards after receiving a dull blow to the back of her head, falling dangerously close to the pieces of shattered window
3/03/15[Thunder clashes]3/03/1513 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
The storm squalls over the base of the red team. It was around that time to tell some scary stories. Everyone sat around a campfire in the base that pyro had built; however, neither of them stuck around since the scary stories spooked them, despite being crazed arsonists, and psychotic pyromaniacs that they truly are(no pun intended). The soldier was there along with Sasha, Jules, Chase, and Don. Mundy the red sniper was with David, as they all waited for the stories. Zephyr was the one going first. “ you lads ready?” he asked in a slight Irish accent. They all nodded, even Sasha. Jules looked over to his husband, “Are you sure you want to do this Sasha? You don't have to you know.” “I k-know but I want to t-try.” Sasha edged closer to Jules. “If you need a shoulder to cry on, feel free to look to your left.” Jules told him, Sasha smiled, then looked at Zephyr,
Crimson Claws and Fangs 24 In the halls of the secret society of the Order of the Knights of the Golden Cross word has arrived to the ears of the Head Inquisitor of an oddity in their country. The Head Inquisitor sits at his desk stroking his wrinkled chin and with furrowed brow looks over the reports local agents have sent in of a vampire preying on other vampires. Some of the reports suggest it might be a Strigoni Benefici (a vampire that preys on vampires), however others indicate that it has also preyed on human muggers and other criminals.Crimson Claws and Fangs 2419 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Head Inquisitor cups his chin in his hands as he stares down at the reports on his desk, “hmmm” he thinks aloud, “a vampire trying to play hero? Wouldn’t be the first time some newly turned vampire tried to imitate the movies and funny books. Hmmm, it will though like all those others eventually turn on civilians, criminals, while criminals are still God’s children though in the mean time.” He rifles throu
The Transformation of Malcolm Goodrich page 1The Transformation* of Malcolm GoodrichThe Transformation of Malcolm Goodrich page 14 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Malcolm Goodrich, 28, reclined in his bed in Providence Memorial Hospital and awaited the surgeon’s diagnosis of his problem. The surgeon arrived at his bedside with a nurse of 26 years and looked at Malcolm rather gravely. He carried the case history of Malcolm’s condition under one arm. Malcolm knew that something was wrong from the surgeon’s expression.
“I am afraid that you will have to stay here a few days more, Mister Goodrich.”
“Well, seeing that I have nowhere else to go yet, it doesn’t matter. What is new, Doctor Edelstein?”
“Your condition. It has not got worse, but we are still analyzing it. We should conclude by then. We will tell you everything we know.”
“That is just fine.”
They returned to the surgeon’s office, leaving Malcolm wondering what they had learned. Occasionally he felt his lower jaw. He remembered,
falling 2598Falling 2598 part 1falling 259817 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
I will never forget the day the base went down in flames. I won't forget the day we stood up to the king of sulesia. I'll never forget that day..... We failed the Sargent, I said looking at his dead body. Snap out of it Carter, Ross said to me. How?, the Sargent is dead and we don't have a plan to get out of this base!! I shrieked wanting "them" to hear me. Shut up!, Ross whisper yelled at me... Their here
Dark Tournament 10: Scale vs Valentine Scale walks along the beach of the island.Dark Tournament 10: Scale vs Valentine1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Okay,” he says aloud looking at the green orb that magically appears in his hand when he calls for it, “so I’m in this now…so…how do I get off this island.”
“Nooo neeed,” buzzes the bee girl known as B. Mai Valentine appearing from the brush, “Ieeee challleeeenge yoouuu!”
“Oh please,” says Scale, “I’m a lizard, you’re a bug, sure bees are scary when they’re in a swarm but you…you’re just one bug, and just a woman with some bug parts on her at that.”
Valentine smiles as her human flesh parts shift into the black and yellow smooth carapace form.
“O…kay…” says Scale getting into the martial arts stance he hasn’t used since early high school when he took lessons.
Valentine hovers in the air.