Andhera The pale rays of light pouring from the rising sun streaked through the park, encasing Eula and the entire park around her in a soft glow. The light made the flowers peek out of their petals and made the birds chirp jubilantly; it filled the park with warmth- but it filled Eula with apprehension.Andhera1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Then again, it was a rare thing for Eula to not be uneasy. That dreadful anxiety would seep into her chest at any given time, and for no apparent reason. Now was one of those times. She walked slowly through the winding path between the slender maples and flowering dogwoods, not entirely sure where she was headed or why she was even here. The lack of explanation only exacerbated the irrational sense of foreboding she felt.
Within a few moments of walking, she reached a small clearing ringed with ornate wooden benches in whose center was an immense, towering oak tree. She approached the tree, her anxiety suddenly lessening in the wake of th
The Interview of Daniel Tross's WifeThe Interview of Daniel Tross's Wife1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Note: I wrote this as if the reporter who did the interview is listening to it again off of the recorder that she used to capture the interview, therefore there is no description, just noises and dialogue.
Bold - Mrs. Tross
Italics - Interviewer
Normal - Noises
"Thank you for meeting with me. You don't mind if I record this, do you...?"
"By all means, go right ahead."
*Shuffling.* "Alright, tell me about you and Daniel Tross."
"Oh, uh.... Where should I start?"
"The beginning. When did you meet?"
"Freshman year of high school. Well, technically the summer before school started. We worked at the same kids camp. But we didn't actually start to talk until I got into high school. I was the typical nerd, kept to myself, read and drew a lot, played video games, got along with the kids because it was easy to just supervise and let them do their own thing. But he was the p
Arachnophobia (WIP)Entry 1, 3/08/25Arachnophobia (WIP)19 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Look, I know that they say if you're scared of something you're more prone to running in to what you fear. And, well, I suffer from Arachnophobia. Please don’t laugh about it. I’m sure someone snicker while reading that. I wasn’t always a feared of them. When I was a kid I actually loved them. That was until I fell in a nest of them. I Ended up with bites all over them and had to take a late night trip to the emergency room. And ever since I’ve been terrified of those little demons. But, enough about why I have Arachnophobia…. Over the past week or so I’ve been finding tons of them in my house. No, I don’t live in the country. Nor is it winter. In fact it’s the middle of summer and I currently live in a big city. And the neighborhood i live in sprays pesticide and no one else has been having problems with any kind of bug, or other pests. Well other than a few strays and raccoons. May there’s a nest of the
ExeHello.Exe1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Some of you know me already. I'm that... nerdy little girl who sits in the back, a teacher's pet, you could say. I was always quiet, rarely spoke, the reader. I could care less what you think of me.
I am not all that, I'm a gamer, a programmer, a designer. I can be the life the party, a wild child. Those who know me, know that I am a horror fan, even if I seem like a scardey cat. I tell tales, grand and minor, and laugh almost like a psycho. They don't care. Think it's normal. They loved me. But they're gone now.
I remember hearing about the myths, the legends of my hometown. I live in Portland, Oregon. I know what hides here.
Mom said I was a psychic child, due to my habit of good prediction. I also see some spirits, usually around my age. She said it was normal. I know she's lying. I read more into the history, the honor, and fear. I get a good laugh.
I love to freak out the students with my ability. I can see who's who, I know which twin is who. I feel revered. I have had a t
The Hanged ManThe Hanged ManThe Hanged Man14 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
By Marten Hoyle
Impure is my soul. Disturbing has been my life. Wretched. Doomed have been my hours. So long. So lost in wonder of what my final moments will hold. The gallows are waiting.
Is there Heaven or is there Hell? To which will I go? I have said that my soul is impure, but if I perhaps ask forgiveness will it find a way to something like paradise? Or is Hell here in the prison? Am I to linger here on Death Row until the prison is abandoned and the walls become dust? Am I to remain with nothing but time—so slow in the solitude of these chambers. So filled with the desire to whimper but the need to be strong and not cave in to what the men always on the patrol are expecting of you. I must finish my last meal without vomiting. I must swallow every morsel or the guards will suspect I am afraid.
Lying in my bed tonight. Attempting to ignore the slithering nightmares which come to me in my inability to gain sleep. What I am does not matter. And although the memo
The Funeral Parade (Part 5)The Funeral Parade (Part 5)1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
As the evening went on so did an endless parade of exotic dishes mostly vegetables including stuffed eggplants that were cultivated in the lower region of Pawland. As a dessert we had some god old-fashioned carrot cake just like the one Rosie used to bake on a rainy day.
A part of me was scared to death, if you pardon the expression to be considered a fool for the wild stories I told about the mansion such as the ability to see ghosts.
"I will never forget that darling girl, Emily Nightingale; she seemed to have a very noble spirit but in the end she was a bit relentless."
"And how´s that. Mr. Mayhem?" asked Matilda.
"She refused to cross to the other side. There are times in which someone just doesn´t want to let go because they´re afraid of changes."
"And do you think most unicorns are like that?" asked Mr. Grey revolving his glass.
"I don´t know; I haven´t met that many. I talked recently to a close friend abo