Horror
Samhain
Sitting languidly in the esthetican's chair, I try my best to muster some interest in the small talk of the woman doing my nails. Worthless, stupid humans; their short meaningless lives and pointless endeavors always repulse me. Unfortunately, I've learned I have to do at least a few daily activities like them to blend in. As well as there's the small matter of sustaining one's self, ie grocery shopping, paying bills, and other day to day matters. Living as long as I have, money isn't an issue. But do I want to spend my day hilling potatoes in a garden? Decidedly not! I considered having house staff, but things are just a little different than they were three hundred years ago. Not only are humans smarter and more well-informed thanks to technology, there tends to be a large outcry when one is found dead in an alley. Disposing of the maid when she's seen or heard something she shouldn't have poses all kinds of headaches. Much as I detest it, I take one day a week and look after my penthouse myself.
By Margaret Draper5 years ago in Fiction
Nightswimming. Top Story - October 2021.
Sometimes I go swimming alone, at night. Under the silvered scree of moonlight, I undress and pad quietly into the cool shallows. In September, the fog rolls in, an ancient cue for impending winter and the solid freeze known in the north as Ice Down. I will lean back, float serenely, eyes trained on the slivers of light that breach the overhanging pines. I imagine I am young, a girl in the throes of teenage angst, rebelling against the oaken crush of an overtired single mother. I imagine I am in love, arms twisted around the muscular shoulders of an older lover, a sensual tryst in the chill of autumn. I imagine I am strong, stronger than his pressings, his pleas, his sweet whispers and platitudes in my crimson ear.
By Aaron Steele5 years ago in Fiction
The Water Hole (A Conclusion)
This was requested by Jason Basaraba , a conclusion to The Water Hole , my entry into the Vocal Foggy Waters Challenge. I really hope this lives up to expectations , but we will see. I have taken a few terms from the Philip Pullman “His Dark Materials” books which will fit in with the general story.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 5 years ago in Fiction
The Wolf of Jade Lake
During the day a lake that I live next to, Jade Lake, is lovely. Quite lovely. So much so that I've used it for some of my pictures for my job. But, at night? This place isn't exactly as nice. Every time I go on my evening run however...I get this weird feeling on my back. Like something or someone is watching me. Sometimes, I swear I hear footsteps. So, I run even faster then when I started. Never looking back once before I get to my front door.
By Raphael Fontenelle5 years ago in Fiction
Staying Alive
Curfew began at eight. Police patrolled the streets and had the power to arrest and even shoot anyone they found outside at night. Nowhere was safe. Misty and Ash wanted date on the beach. The date was originally meant to be a picnic by the beach. Ash decided that was boring and they played truth or dare which ended with skinny dipping amongst other things.
By Chloe Gilholy5 years ago in Fiction
Water's Edge
Cordelia felt like she needed to get to the cabin as quickly as possible. She had just gotten off work and was on her way to her first vacation in what felt like forever. When she finally saw it, her heart leaped, she hadn’t remembered her grandmother’s cabin being so grand. It looked like something out of a calendar. Dark wood logs stacked three stories with a wraparound porch, surrounded by the polychromatic leaves of autumn. Getting away from the coast was exactly what she needed, regardless of what her friends had to say. Living on the beach had not helped her anxiety about water. This place seemed as dry as it could get and that was exactly what she really needed.
By Raine Fielder5 years ago in Fiction
The Wood
The Wood One TODAY WAS A WEIRD DAY. There was a strange tension in the town. Superstition had that affect on the village. People who often sat on their front stoop, watching as other villagers walked by, were inside. They were closing their shutters. There weren’t even clothes hanging out on the line. It was a perfect day for drying clothes outside.
By Nathan Charles5 years ago in Fiction
