Subject: JohnSubject: John5 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
There was a heavy thrumming and whirring from the old computer as it projected its light from the screen, and onto the man's weary face. Heavy bags sat beneath his eyes, making him seem ten years older than what he was. A slow, steady clicking of the keys filled the silence of quiet night as he typed.
The man paused as he looked over his shoulder hesitantly, listening to the sounds of the house settling, and the soft pattering of the rain outside, before quickly resuming his letter, as if he'd been hit with a sudden burst of adrenaline.
Using his mouse, the man clicked onto a second tab that had been previously opened on the web browser. An assortment of sent emails flashed onto the screen, and then man yawned as he scanned over them.
This is the third time I've written to you. Reply dammit!
I need to know if it really helps - calling those agents. One of those damn freaks showed up at my house three days ago. He was a tall fucker. Wear
StaircaseAs a child I always found staircases and basements oddly eerie, to the point I could not live or travel up or down stairs at night or in many other instances. This was most likely brought about by a few traumatizing nightmares I had while staying at my grandmother’s house for weekends at a time. These Nightmares which usually only seemed to occur when I stayed there, always intertwined with my visits to her house. Though me and my grandmother always seemed to get along just fine, the thought of going back to that place I had most of my nightmares.Staircase9 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
I learned from her how to bake and how to cook meat properly, and she also taught me how to read when I was a child. When I was very young, and since my parents both traveled much due to their work, I would often stay with her for long periods of time. In these times, she taught me how to read, and how to write. She taught me many things which my parents never had the time to teach, and though she was stern, I loved her more than my par
The Howl of the WolfThe Howl of the WolfThe Howl of the Wolf9 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was a day like any other in the town of Hillcrest, Virginia. The fall season had come at last, and the leaves had started to turn from the monotony of green to a multitude of red, brown, and gold. This illusion of tranquility was far from the reality of the current state the town was in, however. If one were to ask any inhabitant of the town, they would have been informed of the true nature of the town. Until a few months previously, the town had indeed been peaceful. Then the situation took an abrupt turn. A traveler that had stopped through the town on his way to another city had apparently strolled into the forest late in the night, and was found near the river the next morning, torn nearly apart. The investigators couldn’t find any evidence that a human had killed him. A few weeks later, another traveler was found dead in the forest. It kept happening again and agai
Howl of the Heavens 21 Deep in the forest upon the mountain a down pour in the bleak blackness slowly brings Mike back to consciousness. He gets up and remembers the horror that brought him there and left him in the dirt.Howl of the Heavens 2118 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
He thinks to himself, “That demon left me for dead, that it’s mistake.”
He stands to his feet realizing just then how dark it had become.
“I will kill it next time.” He vows to himself out laud.
He checks himself over and aside from a bump on the head he seems to be okay. He spies the broken Golem slayer on the forest floor picking it up,
“Little good this thing did for me.” And tosses it down the rocky edge where his gun had fallen down before.
He decides he had better head back to the Jones’ and make a new plan tomorrow.
As Mike approaches the Jones’ house he witnesses a very strange sight, a sheriff’s truck is out side and a
Creepypasta: I Walk A Lonely StreetCreepypasta: I Walk a Lonely StreetCreepypasta: I Walk A Lonely Street18 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
The hallucinations weren’t getting better. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; she’d stopped hearing someone talking over her bedside, she could no longer make out the sound of whispering coming from that room in her attic she dared not enter, and she was likewise no longer anguished during the night by phantom banging and crashing thuds coming from upstairs. But even though the auditory hallucinations had been banished back to that haunted part of her brain that had spawned them, there was something new that the pills had brought on, something far more worrisome.
She could see him.
She had often felt watched, all her life really, since she was about sixteen, but she never had a face to put to her simmering paranoia. She still didn’t, not in the literal sense. This was because “the man in the pinstripe suit”, as she had come to refer to him when speaking to the doctors, wore a bowler hat pulled so low that she
ObsessedClick. Click. Click "Am I not the most beautiful girl in the world or what?" Puckering her lips once more Laurel took another picture in the bathroom mirror. "Damn right I am!" Laurel fluffed her long dark brown hair and twirled a few of her new pink highlights. "God, I can't believe how well these turned out."Obsessed1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
She glanced through her new photos looking for the perfect fifteen to submit to her all pages. I can never decide which ones I look best in! I always look fabulous! She pushed her ruffled tank top down further and took a few more pictures. "Perfect!"
Flipping over to her social media pages she composed a new post.
Hey guys! New pics 4 ya! I'm sooooo hot, don't you agree? If I get 15k likes in the next two hours I'll do a bikini shoot! If y'all can get me 25k! I'll be a little more revealing! Giggles and kisses, ~L
She sat her blue iPhone down on her matching plush comforter and went over to her closet. "They're totally gonna give me twenty-five thousa
Heaven or HellShe is young, so young. She seems smaller, like she’s spent all these years in a washing machine, and now she has shrunk. Facing toward the orchards, her back to the setting sun, her almond hair swings across her shoulders, like straight strips of flimsy wood, but wood doesn’t shimmer and glisten, not like her hair.Heaven or Hell1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
He steps toward her, falteringly, but his light footsteps are amplified by the autumn leaves, strewn across the hills like a golden carpet.
He closes his eyes.
He believes she is an angel, a spirit sent down from the heavens. In his old age, his terrible old age, he has forgotten much of his childhood. But he has never forgotten her face.
He remembers it clearly, that winter evening, when he had taken her ice-skating.
He remembers her smile as she glided across the lake.
He remembers her screams as she fell into the ice.
He remembers the cool of her usually so warm body when they threw roses into her ebony coffin.
But none of that matters now. She is
Howl of the Heavens 20 As night falls on Pine Ridge Versa in her human guise with her traditional leather cloths on with the image of the hunter Mike given to her from Rhuen fresh in her mind she walks right down the road with the Jones’ residence in sight and a mission in her mind. Past the main streets, past the shops, past one small bar, past many mail boxes that signified drive ways, with her children following from the shadows of the forest, and she travels. Along a long drive to an old one story house backed up against the forest Versa has found her target.Howl of the Heavens 201 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
She stops out side the house and sniffs the air, "yes" she thinks to herself and to her children who are outside the view of the streets in the forest line, "this is it, the smell is just as Rhuen sensed to me these are the humans that helped that foolish hunter. Well my children lets meet these Joneses shall we."
With a wicked smile she walks up to the door and rings the bell. The door is answered by t
An Intimate Conference With Stompy Bolteara part 1Whisked away into the vividly spontaneous unhingement of dreams you sleep, the buzz of your alarm clock stifles you immediately with a growl and a moan of protest.An Intimate Conference With Stompy Bolteara part 12 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
It is eight thirty two in the morning and your cozy log cabin is lush with familiar colour, the song of birds and the riveting dazzle of the sun through your curtains.
You stalk and stretch yourself asunder, sit up momentarily and then clamber yourself lazily out of your billet with a rub of your cornea. You set the kettle, whip out a bowl out of the cupboard and begin to fill it with your favourite cereal.
Three quarters of a hour pass, you choose to go cut trees for more firewood as you bask proudly in the sun's rays that more than invokes in you today is going to be a great day! Of course, thirty five minutes pass; you're heaving violently with your axe at the unsuspecting trunk. Chop. Chop. Chop. Chop.
Overhead a flock imminently startles overhead, you just keep chopping with ease in your solemn detachment. Suddenly you'
EchoThe plains around Antliss, capital of the human kingdoms, were scattered with smaller towns and villages; this much was common knowledge.Echo2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Also common knowledge was the fact that many of these had been abandoned over the years as their occupants had one by one passed away, or else moved to Antliss to seek their fortunes.
Less common, however, was knowledge of the truth about one of these villages: Atsain, a miserable huddle of houses on the edge of the marshlands, abandoned for as long as anyone could remember.
Only Cofaint Rhith, archivist for the Historian's Guild of Antliss, knew the truth about this town. She had stumbled upon it purely by chance, in a manner typical of the Guild: Cofaint had been reading through a bundle of letters, bequeathed to them by an amateur historian from the distant town of Santyllia, when she had discovered reference to Atsain.
The letter had been otherwise ordinary; a hopeful note from father to daughter from during the great migration, when hundreds upo
Creepypasta: Just Like Real LifeCreepypasta: Just Like Real LifeCreepypasta: Just Like Real Life2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Snow days were quite a pleasant occurrence for most students with only a few rare exceptions, and high schooler Juli Saunders was one of said rare exceptions. Juli had pulled an all-nighter making proof-positive that her public speaking project was flawless, and she was royally miffed that all of her effort had apparently been in vain. Worse, she knew she would probably have to go over it again tonight anyway in case she forgot anything. And worse still, the power had gone out early that morning, leaving her with nothing to do but wait for her mom and dad to come home from work.
After moping about in her bedroom for few hours, it dawned on Juli that there was a distinct high-pitched whine coming from her closet. It seemed to her that the noise was barely perceptible, and had likely been masked until now by the sound of the whirring computer tower that was part of the gaming set-up she made use of.
Deciding to investigate, she rifled through her closet
It Was An Accident.My daughter won't let me sleep. Every night, it's the same thing. She wanders into my room, dragging her stuffed rabbit by the ear, clad in her nightgown, and bawling. She will come up to me and say "Daddy, it hurts." Of course it does. I can see the bruises and cuts all over her. But it was an accident that did this to her, there is no one to be mad at. There's only sorrow looking at the poor kid. The first few weeks of this, I'd let her crawl into bed with me and hold her all night. It brought the crying down to sad whimpers. But I would never be able to sleep listening to her in pain. I told my wife, and she said ignore the problem and the problem would go away. I tried it. It made my daughter scream in anguish. If the whimpers were keeping me up, the screaming kept me wide awake. I tried begging her to stop, to go to sleep, to give me some piece. It was to no avail. She would only cry more. She asked why I didn't love her. Why was I trying to make her leave? She just wanted her dadIt Was An Accident.2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Dead Men Tell No TalesThe wind peacefully brushed past me, only taking a few strands of hair with it while a large shadow was cast over the tank, caused by a wandering cloud. It was a nostalgic scene, looking down on the forest and all its greenery. This time of year, all the trees regained their colors, sprouting amongst the few pines, creating scenery almost spot on for a painting. Perhaps one day I would invite Helen out here; he would surely appreciate it, even in the slightest bit. But for now, this picture perfect sight was all mine, and I had no problem with that because this.. this was what I always wanted. Acres and acres of land stretching from one end of a town to the other, innocently hiding the darkness that relished within. It was poetic in a way; the saying, "Don't judge a book by its cover" fit the definition of this verdure landscape like a last puzzle piece. Most people wouldn't know this, either because they never caught the beauty or they never caught the ugliness.Dead Men Tell No Tales2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
It made me grimace as