Horror
Among the Stars, We Fade
The last ship docked in the port of Harlan Station just as the twin suns of Erythra dipped behind the jagged horizon. Mara could feel the hum of the engines through the floor beneath her boots, a vibration that matched the thrum of her chest. She hated goodbyes. Or maybe she hated the way they felt in this sector of the galaxy, where distances were measured not in miles, but in uncountable light-years, and every horizon hinted at something unspeakable beyond the veil of reality.
By Nina Pierce2 months ago in Fiction
Still Life with Woman. Honorable Mention in What the Myth Gets Wrong Challenge.
Despite my youth and supposed good health, I had recently felt under the weather. In recent days, to be precise, I had felt my body slowly seizing up, heavier. It started in my fingers and toes: a loss of the freedom of movement expected for those digits at the extremities of my healthy body. Not exactly painful, but neither was it a piece of cake. After a day of that, I retired to bed, expecting to wake fully refreshed and better the next day.
By Paul Stewart2 months ago in Fiction
Compound Growth
The first thing Marcus noticed was Derek's skin. It wasn't dramaticānot at first. Just a certain smoothness to his colleague's face during the Monday morning standup, a tightness around the jaw that hadn't been there Friday. Derek had always been soft, doughy in that way of men who'd stopped caring somewhere around their second divorce. But now his cheeks held a new geometry. His neck no longer folded into his collar.
By Destiny S. Harris2 months ago in Fiction
ā©hen ā£ā¬rbiddeā¦ ā£āvā Drew ā¬nć° Inā¹xplicable ā§ć° š« ā®āāhĪ·āā³āāĪ³ Tā¬ā“Carry ā¬ut the ā®āāāible ā āstructiā¬n ā¬f š ±isbee, š °riĪā¬na. Winner in Mismatch Challenge.
ā”šµāÆ~Located in the Mule Mountains of southern Arizona is the Sonoran desert. In the Year of Our Lord 1880, troves of minerals & metals were discovered in that rocky terrain by a prospector named Judge DeWitt Bisbee.
By Lightning Bolt ā”2 months ago in Fiction
Dead and Wearing Green. Top Story - February 2026. Content Warning.
She was wearing that green dress when I first saw her, five years ago to the day. Flowing meadow fabric draped over long legs, thick auburn hair flowing down her back. That smile. Of course, she is still beautiful now. But now she is no longer alive.
By Karen Cave2 months ago in Fiction
What A Clown. Honorable Mention in Mismatch Challenge. Top Story - January 2026.
I heard of the jokester in town. My staff was afraid to share the tales, for they knew the stories infuriated me and punishment was my expertise. I inflicted many types, and excelled at using sharp objects and heated āinstruments.ā
By Andrea Corwin 2 months ago in Fiction
The Wickfield Husbands
I thought I was lost, when I suddenly saw the sign, Wickfield Rhode Island, and I turned my wheel to exit the interstate. I felt butterflies in my stomach, as I didn't know what to expect. However, I was on my way to the job interview of a lifetime, and I was elated and apprehensive all at the same time.
By Susan Payton2 months ago in Fiction
Day 7
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. Itās been six months and four days since my last confession. Father, I have hurt others in the most horrid ways. I have blindly killed people, many people, even the most innocent, in the name of war andā¦for money. And I have disrespected my mother and forsaken my family in time of need.
By Gail Winfree2 months ago in Fiction
In the Dark
Icy blue eyes stared at me through the darkness. The fact that I could see these eyes so clearly in the darkness sent shockwaves up my eleven-year-old spine. I had just woken up from a rather intense nightmare, incidentally about some creep that was watching me at the foot of my bed. āāI can see you,āā I whispered.
By DJ Robbins2 months ago in Fiction
A Night Painted with the Scars of Hate. Content Warning.
Steam clouds emanate from the sewer grates like puffs of smoke spilling from the listless mouths that pass on the street. His nose turns away at the slightest hint of smoke; the smell clings to his clothes like children grasping for toys in displays. Opening the door to a discreet shop along the burgeoning street, he files inside to a world utterly alien to him. His eyes darted around the interior store with its neon signs advertising paraphilia in bright, abnormal colors. The walls must have been wrapped in leather dyed by the night sky. Corvids decorated the walls as if they were suddenly going to attack the puppies on leashes, or those meant to resemble them.
By Thomas Bryant2 months ago in Fiction
