Short Story

From the roof of the car a man appeared and from the side an old woman approached the car. The old woman was an informer. I had to kill both of them. Suddenly, from the other side a shot fired and hit me. Taking off my cap, I placed it over the muzzle of my rifle. I Then pushed the rifle slowly upward over the parapet, until the cap was visible from the opposite side of the street. Almost immediately a bullet pierced the center of the cap. I slanted the rifle forward. The cap clipped down into the street. Then catching the rifle in the middle, I dropped my left hand over the roof and let it hang, lifelessly. After a few moments I let the

I started walking down the path. I heard the sounds of rattles and I eyed the ground. I'm not in the mood to be bitten by a snake. "Does it feel like I'm going the right way?" I felt a crunch under my foot and shivered. "Yes." I lifted my foot and

My wound oozed and started to fester. It smelled horrible, like burnt hair and shrubs as I lay on the hot concrete. Dirt and dust stung my nostrils and lodged into my throat, leaving me to gag on my own blood and what felt like my insides. My head was on fire—had I been shot again?

Stumbling with the strap of my sandy brown backpack as sweat accumulates on my forehead, my neck, and any open pore on my body. The siege green shirt clinging to my petite form creating a small claustrophobic hell within myself. To whoever is out there and hears me, well you’re screwed. We are going to die. Let me give you a last minute advice: run. Run as fast as your lanky white legs can go. Run not with fear, because it will only paralyze and slow you down. Instead, run with the same passion and excitement you had when you first learned to walk. How you made yourself walk with wobbly steps to reach the happy clapping of your mother’s hands. Run with the same desperation you felt to reach her and be enveloped by her warmth; that every cell

I quickly stand up to my feet, my vision blurring and everything getting much brighter as dizziness sweeps through me and the world rushes by in a blur and that's when I know the pain is coming. It goes by fast, yet slow, almost suspended. Then impact as I hit the ground, causing me to groan in pain.

and saw her mom and sister, in their own bikinis. Smiling, she placed a handful of sun screen on her legs and rubbed it in, she continued up to her chest, neck, and face. Offering her sister, the bottle. Taking off her bikini top, she laid face forward, so her sister could place some lotion on her back, and places where she could not reach.

The beeping of a monitor was getting annoying. With the sterile smell and constant humming of technology, Corvus could have really used some music. His body ached from the fight he had won, ached from the damage that was finally catching up to him. His bones had broken numerous times, something he could easily fix. However, now he was just getting his energy back while the lab coat people ran tests on him. They didn't need his consent for anything given the fact that this hospital was not really considered such, but it was the only place he could really go while staying under the radar of the native population here that would be happy to see a bounty hunter like him floating dead in the ocean. Obviously, this was something he did not want,

Gunshot. My brain tells me to run, but my heart tells me to see if I can help.

Phelps and Umonakalisi reached the bottom of the stairwell, stopping just long enough to catch their breath, but with the location of their foe unknown, Phelps opened a crack in the door just wide enough to hear the silence of the empty corridor. They were alone. Their prey still alluded them, and both men burst through the doors, setting off at a sprint along the passageway. Within thirty seconds, the signs on the walls announced the beginning of Hangar G. Phelps slowed. He searched for an entrance. Then, he stopped beside one of the huge maintenance doorways and pressed the access panel. The door remained unmoved.

My unevenly buttoned shirt dances in the wind as I stand here. The small grains of dirt and small rocks beneath my feet feel as though they are digging into my skin deeper and deeper

It was Saturday morning and I had just woke up. I received an email from the coach that coaches one of the best teams. I could not believe what I had just seen. On the email it wrote “Dear Victoria, I had watched you play in a few games, and I think you would be a good addition to my team. Would you want to come to practice tonight?” I thought to myself, I am not good enough, so maybe I should not go. But as the day went on, I actually thought that I should go just for the experience.

It has been 10 years now since the war and for every one step forward, he takes two back. Not even the bottle has been able to comfort him in times of need. Despite his experience, he was still very naive and every time someone told him to get help he would declare “I don’t need it”, or “I’m doing better”. He was in fact not doing better. Later that same year he purchased a gun, a small, compact handgun that he claimed he had purchased because he didn’t trust his neighbors. It would sit on his bedside table, loaded and in waiting for the time that it to would get its chance to take a life from this world. As the days would go on the more he would notice it, the barrel would gleam in the sunlight, and the trigger began to entice him more and more. But he couldn’t think about that, because if he did there might not be a way out this time.

"FIND HER! BRING HER HOME!!" an anonymous voice shouted as the sun raised. "Yes alpha we'll find her, we'll find your daughter" a voice replied. Their voices slightly bounced off the rocks in the mountains

Last week, dressed in her tailored suit and mile-high red heels, Morgana walked into the neighborhood watering hole in the Bronx. The pub was dim, crowded, and smelled like stale beer and musky cologne, but despite the irritating odor, she enjoyed the drinks and the laid-back atmosphere, even if she stuck out like a sore thumb when she came dressed in business attire straight after work. But that didn’t really matter, because she and her crowd were celebrating Merlin’s master’s degree by consuming nachos, wings, and beer. It was a fine night to let loose and chow down on greasy food. After all, this was Merlin, who worked so hard at his two jobs, teaching grade school and tutoring disadvantaged kids at the community center, all while

All you heard was the murderous screams coming from everyone's mouth when they were running or when they were shot. I turned around wanting to know who was shot or who was trying to get away and it haunted me what I saw. All I saw was bodies dropping onto the floor and seeing their blood seeping into the ground that used to be in the bodies of my classmates. I froze in that moment with disbelief. All the screams suddenly faded and I saw the gun aimed near me and a bullet came racing out. I heard a piercing scream next to me and saw Sarah from my history class grab my arm as she landed on the ground. I broke tears were streaming down my face and my hand went on top of my mouth, as I watched her eyes roll to the back of her head and her blood rushes out of her lifeless body. I wanted to help her however if I stayed I would die. So, I quickly ran to a classroom fearing that I would be