Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
The Last Days
The Last Days Part I Kinsley clutched her throat and began squeezing harder and harder. As Lacy lay on the ground dreaming of mermaids. She couldn’t help but wonder as her mind drifted to darkness. The night grew silent, as Lacy lay on the ground lifeless.
By Charelle Landersabout 21 hours ago in Fiction
Beginner's Luck: Growth 6
Mining stone was not fun. Even with his divine blessings and the use of resonance, the stone before him seemed to resist all of his efforts. It didn't help that Mason didn't seem to want to help at all in the process, and only continued to stare at him. Taking a moment to breath and assess his progress Fluke had an epiphany. If wood required a chopping action and wide blade, perhaps stone needed a different type of resonant focus in order to get results. Using insight and his focus, he looked at how the energy seemed to surround the pickaxe head. The energy was rounded and smooth, and when he swung the tool, the energy almost resisted his efforts when it made contact with the stone. He examined the outcropping before him:
By Everett Scaifeabout 21 hours ago in Fiction
Beginner's Luck: Growth 5
The Librarian walked away without another word to Fluke or Q or the Derboul. The tension driving a wedge between the apprentice and master. Fluke didn't call after him, instead he too walked in the opposite direction. He quickly grabbed his bag of supplies and then gave Q a command to watch over their prisoner. Fuming as he marched away, his mind raced with thoughts, questions, and frustrations.
By Everett Scaifeabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
Ra'ad Does Not Dwell in Time
Ra'ad Does Not Dwell in Time By luccian layth Here collapses a corner of events — purely narrative, risen from the drain of our old house's gutter, seeping into the channels of a despondent city. Dark of atmosphere. Wretched to look upon. Like an old grey woman the ages have ruined, her sides ulcerated, spoiled like dried apple where worms have long since finished their work and moved on to something equally forgettable.
By LUCCIAN LAYTHabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
Beginner's Luck: Growth 4
Fluke watched the wounded Derboul with rapt curiousity. The beast was terrifying to behold, yet at the same time, it seemed to be a vegetarian. Even when they provided fish it seemed to eat it sparingly. The hulking mass of alien warrior screamed carnivore or predator, and yet here it was hungrily devouring anything plant based. Fluke looked up at his mentor, who was just staring at the outsider with arms crossed. His facial expression was hidden behind his mask, but no facial expression was needed: the intensity and rigid body language may as well have been the Librarian shouting at the top of his lungs.
By Everett Scaifeabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
Beginner's Luck: Growth 2
On their way to the beach, they stopped and interacted with the non-sentients in the village. After a brief exchange between the Librarian, the four of them happily gathered some tools, a collapsible work bench, and some provisions before hurrying off to the clearing. Fluke looked up into the sky and noticed that despite him already having eaten lunch it wasn't quite mid-day. Even with more than half a day's worth of daylight he had no idea how they would be able to process the wood and finish a house. Perhaps it was another part of the magic of living in a rift world.
By Everett Scaifeabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
Beginner's Luck: Growth
Both the Librarian and Fluke spent the rest of their lunch break manipulating their resonance. By barrowing Fluke's emblem Insight, the Librarian made steady progress and managed to gain an even envelope around himself. Fluke found that after resting and digesting, there was an interesting change to the attributes listed in his mask. Before exhausting himself his read out had said:
By Everett Scaifeabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
Perfect people on perfect social media pages.
Restaurant “N”. A week in advance, I reserve a table at one of the most popular restaurants in the city. I spend days preparing for the evening, imagining the atmosphere — elegant interiors, expensive details, a table overlooking the city at sunset.
By Eliza Woodstorma day ago in Fiction
