His EyesIt has been three months since we heard from the mainland.His Eyes3 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Speculation abounds. Some catastrophe has befallen them there; a plague has ended them, or a war, or perhaps something so dreadful that we cannot even imagine it. We are left here to starve, slowly, as we wait for news and supplies.
This morning we saw a boat on the horizon. Through the spyglass we saw that its occupant is a lone boy, and that his skin is patterned with lesions. Sula saw something in his eyes, he said, though he did not say what it was; but he was so shaken by the sight that he begged us to shoot the boat down before it reaches us.
We have no choice but to obey. We may pity the boy, but if he carries a plague a show of mercy might doom us. We will fire the cannon as soon as he comes within range.
We burned the flotsam brought in by the tide. There is no sign of the boy's body. With luck the current carried it away.
Sula woke with fever today. He sweats in rivers, and he will not open his eyes. He begged f
FFM 25: The Delivery BirdMom pressed her feet into the stirrups with all of her might, tears of joy and agony streaming down her face. The last push was the hardest, working out the shoulders and wings that followed the long, slender neck. After that, the rest of the stork slid out easily.FFM 25: The Delivery Bird2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Mom and dad wrapped their arms around one another and looked upon it with a combination of euphoria and crippling exhaustion, eagerly waiting to see what the white sack in his beak held. But the messenger only looked back sympathetically, bowing its head in a solemn apology.
The pouch was empty.
Do You See What I SeeRed.Do You See What I See3 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It starts with a simple color. A simple color that results in the end of everything that was. Everything that would be. A simple color that destroyed the futures of so many. Who would have thought the world could be ended by the simplest of colors in the eyes of one girl.
She jumps from broken rooftop to broken rooftop. She glances back every other second. She pants and sprints, her auburn hair flying behind her in the wind. She has been running for only a couple of minutes, but the jumping has taken a toll on her body.
She looks up to the sky, the sun had been gone for years now. Darkness and plague raved the world. This was her fault. She tries not to think about it as she runs for her life. Haunting memories of what she did. She can still hear the screams of people whose lives she took. She begins to cry, each tear is hot and heavy of her face. She begins to stop, slowing with
In the Valley of the DevilsThis is how we prepare for winter in werewolf country: by lighting all the torches on the ramparts around the encampment, because werewolves fear fire, and so that we can see them when they come skulking in the dead of night. Sometimes, beneath the flames, we see the werewolves in our midst, the ones standing beside us. This makes the winter longer, and darker.In the Valley of the Devils4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
This is how we prepare for winter in the forest outside the camp: by catching rabbits and deer and possum, and roasting them on spits on our little fires, which we keep small so that the village will not see the smoke. If they locate us, they will come with guns and silver shrapnel, and tear us to bloody bits.
By first frost, we have finished digging the ditch around us. It is filled with blades pointing up, and hemlock and mistletoe, which the werewolves avoid as a vampire avoids garlic. We toss in the cut branches, and also some parts of their brethren, a skull or tooth, or a hand, which was once a paw
Rising Like SmokeRising Like SmokeRising Like Smoke5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Darkness rose from seemingly nowhere like smoke
From the junction of the backstreet and Darkwood Road in municipal Arkham, Massachusetts, where most residents believed to be uninhibited, the darkness suddenly and mysteriously rose like a heavy blanket of smoke from an enormous bonfire. In fact, there was neither fire nor smoke; but someone or something was summoning the darkness. To be exact, the residents were too scared to investigate the junction, fearing very dark evil. There was a rumor that someone was reading from the black book.
"I swear to ya, someone has got that black book "Necronomicon"."
"You may be right. Darkness don't rise like smoke from anywhere."
They were both right, actually. Someone hid in the backstreet and recited something from Necronomicon to create that darkness. That happened at 5 pm, hours before real darkness fell. Eventually, when real darkness came, it mingled with the spell. Everyone in that side of the town locked door and
Last MealLawrence Russel Brewer was a Texan white supremacist who, along with three of his friends, was tried and convicted for the 1998 murder of African-American James Byrd, Jr. and sentenced to death row. On September 21st, 2011, Brewer was executed by lethal injection. He expressed no remorse for his crime, and stated he would do it all over again if he could. Make no mistake, this man was a monster in virtually every sense of the word. In all likelihood, he deserved to die, and his death was probably too quick and painless to be honest. However, that isn't the point of this little story you're reading.Last Meal9 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The point, rather, has to do with Brewer's last meal request...
Shortly before his execution, Lawrence Russel Brewer was given a choice of what his last meal would be, as is customary in many US prison systems when executing inmates. Brewer's last meal request was a veritable feast: Two chicken fried steaks smothered in gravy with sliced onions, a triple meat bacon cheeseburger with fixings
Morning RitualIt was a known fact of life that Arnold could not function without his morning coffee. Thankfully, he had married a woman who made an amazing brew. Jessica was amazing, and Arnold knew that a shlub like him didn’t deserve an angel like her. He made sure she felt duly appreciated, too—after her coffee elevated him above his zombie state.Morning Ritual1 day ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The weekend had come and gone, and once again Monday was making its forceful presence known. Not that he had to go in to work today… instead, he would have to attend his mother’s funeral. Not that he was grieving. In fact, it was going to be all he could do not to dance on the woman’s grave once the last scoopful of Earth was atop her. Six feet was not enough. She had always tried to control his life. And she had downright hated Jessica. Perversely, as horrible as she had been, she had also always insisted she was a good mother even to her last breath. No one in the family missed her.
Arnold navigated his house my memory, n
The Mirror BladeThe mirror was smooth and cold to the touch as she ran her fingers across it. They didn't leave a mark - not a whisper of fingerprints trailing a pale grey line. It shouldn't be there; there was no record of a mirror being brought in, but here it was, completely out of place and completely intriguing. She pulled her hand away and stepped back. The mirror was huge, standing at least six foot tall and surrounded by silver gilding that formed twisted celtic patterns and drew the faces of children and faeries.The Mirror Blade2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Liz looked around as the soft sound of music drifted towards her ears. The doors were shut and she was the only one in the room. She swivelled back towards the mirror as the sound grew louder: It was coming from beyond the glass.
"What?" she whispered to herself as she took a step closer to the glass.
The music grew louder and she could pick out voices amongst the melody. She couldn't understand the voices but they were clear and pure, singing high and bright but muffled through the
Of things within: AddendumTo those who will venture into the future that is even beyond our own, may good luck accompany you. For even then we will not know what will await us, in the dark recesses of reality our eyes have not yet peered into, but will soon.Of things within: Addendum2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Indeed, what will? What, that has not yet been seen, but will have been, between now, and then? What, that has not yet been seen, and will then, for the first time?
What will you take with you, which we dream of, today? What will you take with you, that even our greatest minds have not dared to envision?
What will you expect, in the uncertainty that you will enter? Or will you expect nothing, and venture out with childlike wonder and open-mindedness?
What will you encounter, out there?
Movement, just past the corner of our perception, or a wet, soft coil that will slither down your neck from above?
You will have seen something flicker, you will be sure of it.
You will have smelled something flicker, and of that, too, you will be sure. But you will not know
The Monster of HateShe felt herself boiling over, surrounded by the idiotic chatter of the dolls around her.The Monster of Hate1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was horrid, and painful, to be around such imbeciles.
She hated it. Hated it so much for there were so many things she could be doing instead hanging with the sluts and man whores around her.
Hate built in her stomach, swelling and bubbling until she felt sick.
Without a word to her plastic company, she rushed off to the bathroom. A moment was spent staring at her gaunt reflection before she collapsed to her knees, stomach clenching and she scrabbled to get to the toilet so as not to vomit on the floor.
She tasted acid and then rot.
Black. Crawling black bugs with the consistency of tar.
They began crawling up her throat, forcing her to breathe through her nose. Her arms shook as she tried to stay up but they gave out as the bugs began skittering from her mouth.
Crawling back, slowly, bringing a finger to her lips, she retched as the smell of sewage enveloped her.
More of the black tar bugs fel
Scarecrow with the Scarlet Scarf (FFM Day 25) I used to think the scarecrow with the scarlet scarf was my friend. We had a lot in common; we were stuck in places we didn't want to be, and we were powerless to do anything about it.Scarecrow with the Scarlet Scarf (FFM Day 25)10 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I got used to the weird things he would say, like if he could move he would hurt the crows that sat on him, or tie the farmer up and see how he would like to be a scarecrow. He would talk about hurting people and killing animals.
I didn't like it. I told him that what he was saying wasn't nice and I didn't want to be his friend any more. He said he was sorry. But now, when he looks at me, it doesn't feel right.
During the night, the scarecrow scratches at my window, calling my name. The scarecrow keeps asking me to let him in. I don't. When I get home from school, I find straw in my bedroom. In my wardrobe, there hangs the farmers green anorak, covered in blood.
I used to think the scarecrow with the scarlet scarf was my friend.
The Young One's lifeChapter 1: First Part.The Young One's life11 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was blazing sunny and the dusty sand made the temperature unbearable for most of the members. A company of thirty six explorers, men and women, all together took this trip in high hopes. Several weeks ago, two out of three High Councilors felt immense magical power in this region. None of them knew what it was, so they sent a large group of skilled personnel to find it. Half the people were fighters, belonging to the Institute of War and half were excavators and researchers. With the exception of a single, young girl.
An official member of the Court of Justice, Aquila Lorson. The young summoner was required for this trip as she knew where to pinpoint the exact location of this immense magical anomaly. She was their guide and their guardian. Without her, they would be lost and boiled beneath the heat of the sun. She maintained a barrier to ease the heat for all the members. Though they were wandering through this disastrous wasteland, it too held its prized bea
just waiting The girl looked into the room silently. Her gaze shifting from her feet to her screen to the area behind her. Fear kept trying to grip her attempting to entangle her mind with it's poisons. She was an easy scare but most would have gone without notice, mainly by the way she talked. Her words were filled with dark morbid thoughts dripping off the edge of insanity. But none knew her fears within her room at night. None knew her thirst for light within the dark. Darkness oh how her mind was split between it one half wanting to slip within it embracing it's silence and mysterious embrace while the other pushes it away with light fearing the creatures hiding within it. She was never abused as a child, she feared no man. That was real. Her imagination was her bane and her gift. Allowing her to create splendid and magnificent worlds, but also keeping her from remembering that reality and imagination are separate.just waiting 2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She snapped her head back her long hair slapped
MonsterMonsterMonster2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I saw in you something that was in me. Hidden, unspoken. Violence and darkness. You captivated me with your words. Your anger excited me. I played with you, like fire. Craving the rage. But you had your own game. Manipulate me. Turn me inside out until I lost my moral compass. I, who could never hurt anyone. Could never cause the pain I’ve been through. You changed me. Desperate for your light to shine on me. Your obsession with me fueled me. Now I don’t even recognize the words I’m speaking. You make me beg and plead. You’ve taken me. Depravity. Your secrets captivate me. Damage me. Who am I now? I stay; when everyday my mind screams ‘no more.’ Your darkness makes mine shine bright. You are a soulless monster. I want to leave but beg you to stay.
Ripper The crowd of well dressed, well groomed individuals stood nervously in front of a young man with an eye patch and a scar across his face. His single grey eye – pale and unnervingly focused – flickered over the assembled group with the precision of a fighter. The room was silent, filled with nothing but the steady breathing of the one-eyed man and the slightly more frantic breaths of the assembled crowd.Ripper2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Look around you,” he said, startling several of the smaller individuals. His voice was a deep growl, rough and accented with an overlay of curious lisps and grating noises. He stalked forward, and the primly dressed crowd stepped back nervously. “Tell me what you see that can be used as a weapon.”
The crowd of young adults did as he commanded, looking around the room with a collective blank stare that almost made the one-eyed man draw his weapon and sate the possessed blade’s lust for blood. Their eyes ski
Insanity Scrap WritingIt was a cool evening that was following a blistering hot Missouri summer’s day. I’m always the first to appreciate the finer things of life, so after my meeting, I decided I would walk home. It was a short, half hour walk alongside a state highway. I spent the whole walk thinking about everything that has ever frustrated me, from my unfaithful ex-girlfriend who just up one day and decided she thought some other guy was so sexy she just had to up and leave me, to the people in the meeting who would ask me a question but not care to stick around to listen to my responses.Insanity Scrap Writing4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
See, I’m also an artist of sorts, an artist, writer, and calligrapher. I carry a calligraphy fountain pen with me everywhere I go. I also often find myself distracted by the scenery. There was a 3 way intersection between the highway and the street I live on. The only way to go from the walkway by the highway was across the highway and onto the street, where there is no crosswalk. I was distracted by
Feeding Day (horror short)Jak Fox sighed and gathered the meat scraps into a plastic container. He hated feeding day.Feeding Day (horror short)5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
What’s-her-face lingered in his bedroom doorway, wearing nothing but his shirt. When he turned to her, he caught her eyes flitting up from the container to meet his glance. She looked like she wanted to ask, but she already knew – everyone knew.
“All right, get out.” He nodded at the apartment door.
She opened her mouth to say something but shut it again. Her wide eyes betrayed pity, but he didn’t want her damn pity. He’d already gotten what he wanted from her.
“I got to leave soon, so…”
The girl nodded. “I’ll get dressed.”
The last thing Jak put on before he left was the class ring his grandmother had bought for him as a graduation gift – ruby red, class of ’11. That was before the disease really hit her, back when she could take care of herself. Back when she was in better spirits. He thought maybe she’