Short Story

When the screen lit up and showed that it was just past eleven in the morning, Braeden panicked. She needed to take flowers to her mother, but she also had to shop and cook for her date with Allison. She quickly dressed and grabbed her skateboard, before leaving a can of food for Hecate and running out the door.

“Morning private” Ben replied. It was like any other morning in the camp. Ben was a soldier in the american army. He was stationed in the rockies, fighting indians and exploring the mountain ranges. The camp was quiet, not a lot of words exchanged. The men all just sat around eating the same food and drinking the coffee as every other day.

I was in the house looking at the sheriff suits that Deanna gave Rick and I and Rick walked in through the door and I said "I don't know if this is some kind of play, handing authority to strangers.The authority to break up fistfights.If it was just that, she should have given one of these to Daryl."Rick said "I don't know if it's for us or for them. Or maybe Deanna's trying to get rid of us and them.You put these jackets on me and you, have the people see it.If that's the play, that'd be smart. And she seems smart.Smart for then or smart for now?" This is now.- Rick was cut off by the sound of some bushes rustling and said "Come out! Now!" Aaron stepped out and asked You can tell the difference between walkers and humans by sound?Can you

It was Friday night, and Brandon wanted to have some friends over. He invited over Thomas, Jay, Lilly, and Elle. Since he didn’t know if what he was hearing was true, he wanted to see if what he heard, his friends heard as well.

“The Outer-Ring,” he said, laughing at the irony as he braced for impact. “A new step for mankind.”

“Don’t take my answer of ‘no’ as a coward’s response, but I’m trying to make it back home to my family. Up until this point, we’ve only been gassed. We’re still in the dark, but nothing is attacking us. I think if we tough it out, we’ll make it out of here alive. But if we go snooping in the dark, there’s no telling what we might find.”

Tic-toc-tic-toc, the annoying presence of that reminder of the passage of time was the only thing breaking the silence of the town hall, with the exception of the occasional child wanting their mother to comfort them. Other than that, an uneasy quiet permeated the area, as if the reaper himself was in the room, selecting who to drag into the afterlife. Actually, it would probably lighten the mood if that was the case.

“Gate 4A is boarding! Next flight boarding is Gate 4A!” the cheery pre-recorded voice announced over the airport’s loudspeakers.

“How many times do I have to tell you to let go of me?!” She screams sharply, tugging and pulling violently against the secured fist gripped around her delicate wrists that were leaving ugly, purple bruises and cuts on her colorless skin.

He first glimpsed the sun as it rose above the bell of a French horn.

"He's up late again," Frederica murmured to herself after seeing lights in the room ahead. She quietly opened the door to the study of the highest ranking officer in the Iserlohn Republic, Yang Wenli. A stray beret lay slightly crumpled on the sofa and empty paper cups cluttered the coffee table in front of it. There was a glow coming from the desk as the study's occupant watched yet another history documentary. The man himself looked slightly disheveled like the rest of the room, a far cry from the hero of democracy he was hailed to be. In other words, things weren't that much different from usual.

It was Christmas Eve day in London, England 2015 and Baltimore was in a staring with his cat Shawlings. “Blast!!!” he called out. “You’ve beaten me once again in another staring contest, Shawlings. I don’t know how you do it”. Shawlings starred as Baltimore hopped off of his bed to get his phone and text his all-time and only best friend Sebastian. Baltimore: Hey, Bastian, you wanna come over now?... He noticed that Sebastian hadn’t texted back as fast as usual. He looks over to Shawlings. “He isn’t texting back like he usually does, Shawlings… Oh well I guess I’ll just call him in about five minutes” he said; jumped onto the bed to continue his staring contest with Shawlings.

I reach in my pocket as I clamber out of the dusty wagon, I find is a stick of gum, a euro and two roll-ups. Trouble is, I don’t even own a match to light em. I don’t have much after handing over my savings to the traffickers. I’ve come from France to the UK because everyone tells me life’s good here..

There is nothing amazing about being a wannabe YouTube star, however my neighbor, a tall, greedy, e-begging, neckbeard seemed to believe otherwise. His large YouTube channel was an excellent measuring tool for his insatiable ego. He had made a steady living over the years from his pseudo-intellectual rants covering a wide variety of topics. He also did a fair number of internet challenges so he could get some money from the high number of views they received. Needless to say, he was a greedy person. He could eat his own weight in cake, and was probably about two happy meals away from a mobility scooter. He was a chronic narcissist who also owned a podcast with three other people. You’ve got the man himself, his brother wearing sunglasses

“Don’t apologize. You’re ill. You need help. I want you and the children to come back to the castle with me so you can see our physician.”