This is a prose-only folder.
For any fiction that primarily focuses on or uses elements of horror, gore or violence.
Short stories and chapter stories are acceptable.
Lost In The World Part 2 by fares002, literature
Literature
Lost In The World Part 2
Katrina sat on the ground for as long as she could. Rebecca was with so much childish energy that Katrina had to stand and play police woman with her. Rebecca found the attention to be fun and entertaining.
An hour went by and the light butterfly had not returned. Katrina felt concerned about what it could possibly mean.
Then, about 10 minutes later, the light butterfly comes flapping into the basement and started to fly around Katrina. Rebecca stopped her playing ways and looked at the butterfly in awe.
"The light from the world what have you found? Please speak only truth," said Katr
Katrina sat at the base of the fire place in the living room. The fireplace and surrounding area was made out of fire resistant reddish-brown bricks, adding to the warmth of the fire. The fire itself sent a radiance of warmth outwards throughout the room. Sitting on the brick's that were warmed by the fire just added to the warmth that Katrina felt. Her read hair a fair skin seemed to absorb the organish-red light emanating from the fire. It was cold outside and the cold was trying to seep its way into the house. The fire held the frigid air outside at bay. The living room floo
The desert sun baked everything to a sweltering shimmer, the highway easily hot enough to fry eggs on, as the bus ground to a stop in the middle of nowhere.
The passengers, a mix of tourists just passing through, couldn’t help but stare at the man who stood just outside the door. Bleached denim jacket, pants with multiple pockets, and a wide-brim hat to keep the sun out of his face, shrouding his sunglasses in shadow almost as deep as his stubble. Shrugging a tall camping backpack, rack stacked with all sorts of odds and ends, including a long, tightly-wrapped shape strapped to one side.
Though the thing most eyes lingered on was the
Tradewinds: Sole Survivor by shadesmaclean, literature
Literature
Tradewinds: Sole Survivor
(Bonus “What If?” Story)
From the cockpit of his beached Albatross, Roger Wilco could still see the explosion from around the bend in the shore, flinging debris from beyond the pines and into the sea. The explosion, which must surely have been Erix’s ship, was not what any of them expected, judging from the others’ reaction over the radio.
From the way the others cried out her name, it was Roxy who got caught in the blast, leaving him with the sinking feeling the bounty hunter must have blundered into some kind of trap.
As the noise of the explosion faded, along with the ringing in his ears, the pilot listened in ten
You walk me up to the
Gallow's Pole, a job for the brave, and yet I still sense your fear. How
can that be? Surely my actions weren't that horrific, then again, you
wouldn't be tieing a noose around my neck if that was the case, wouldn't
it. Very well, it is clear I am not welcome, especially when most of
you are wishing for me to go to hell. Surely someone enjoyed my reign of
havoc, no? They insist on tieing my hands, as if I was afraid of death.
If you need to tie someone's hands so badly, why not the young man in
charge of pulling the lever that'll have me drop to my deadly fate? He
seems to be unable to grasp it since he's shaking so much
Welcome to your personal fantasy land, where the mayhem and excitement is all in your head. No one understands it better than you. That's why it's your job to write your fantasies to share with the world. Who knows, it might be a hit. Lovable characters and unique story lines that starve the reader's imagination for more is what got you this far. After a taste of success, you find yourself hungry for more. Giving it another round, a slap in the face reminds you that it's a long way to the top. Back to square one and you feel out done. Your audience is what makes you want to write more. Although they're the ones that feed you, it doesn't take
Hush now, many reasons to be afraid, but I can't stand your bloody screaming. It's not like you're coming out of the womb of your mother, but I am giving you a new life. At least I'm kind enough to paint you a smile, it'll last a while. A veteran at my skill, you're in for a thrill!
You little pest, didn't mommy tell you not to play in the closet? She warned of the boogeyman, Ha! You're wishing for him instead. Enough whimpering, I gave you what you wished for, tis not my fault you're too ignorant to read the fine print, let alone take a hint. Don't talk to strangers, what a joke. You were quite the fool.
They'll never know it was me. Two b
Walking down the hall of my personal ballroom, I can’t help but snicker. I’m not much of a dancer, but who said I was going to swing? No, there’s a different reason for my travels. Through the poorly lit rooms, the rats know better than to cross my path. There will be no apologies when a boot crushes one of their naked tails. Footsteps keep temp to the organ’s echo, a miserable lullaby of “Hushabye Mountain”. The courtyard serves as a shortcut to the other side. No waves in the pond and night stays with delight. Opening a wooden door, I walk right towards the stairwell that’ll lead me to the top; the
In a world so cold, and yet so old, the forgotten dreams of a childhood's end come to rest. Once the best, they failed the test. Life goes on but the dreams are left here to rot in time.
Broken glass, rat hole class, corroded brass. Follow the soot black brick, go over the crick and try not to get sick. You’re in Wonderland’s darkside with cheap sulfur perfume. Up the path, the light breeze stirs the wrath in the air. Look to the sky, the bleeding heart supplied the dye. The trees serve as castle walls of the demented kingdom you’re entering. Somebody's kite tried to escape, but instead got bra
To think I was at the top of my game. You gave me the gold as I stood so bold. Security doesn’t always catch every intruder, but how could they miss such a disturbing scene? Who the hell are you? Men in white with smiles of delight. They only laugh as they strap me up tight, audience still clapping from the encore. Let me go, you bloody bastards! This isn’t apart of the show, yet it seems so scripted. A nurse with dark red eyes struts over and stares me down as they keep me on my knees. She forces my head up to look into her eyes. “Condition Critical.” The nurse smirks as they wheel in a stretcher. Is this all