“Brace yourselves!” The crew grabs on to railings, poles, or anything sturdy when the bow of the ship dips under water. The stern of the ship lifts into the air, saltwater rolling down the keel into the waves. Crewmates tumble and roll downwards, and some are tossed around. The ship begins to sway back and forth violently in the water like a cork on a fishing line. Below the dark water, sixty meters down, a massive slimy creature holds the anchor of the rusted ship in its m

A very old house sits on a riverbed in a very new city. An elderly lady is sitting in front of her window on a stool covered in dried paints that were spilled for years decades ago. The old woman smiles while she looks out but the corners of her mouth turn down because she doesn’t remember what she’s happy about. All she knows is that in that moment, looking up at the cloudy night sky, with the disbursed light of the city in an ethereal glow, she’s content. She finds some com

The caravan marched slowly across the sandy terrain. Camels, donkeys, horses, elephants, tigers… and animals unlike anything I’d ever seen, being transported across the desert. Men and women in white and gold, with glowing skin and golden eyes walked beside the train of animals with a weightlessness that could almost be described as floating. They moved in unison like a well-orchestrated parade, with each figure gracefully stepping into the footsteps of the person ahead of th

The light flickers in the attic of the east wing. I have a full visual of the campus and the undead slog along the outer corridors and courtyard. I look out of the south facing window and see my perfect line of escape to the canteen. I've been hiding in this attic for too long-I have to escape to the outside world. I could build myself a sanctuary and see if anyone else survived the viral explosion. I can't take being trapped here any longer. I go to the door blocking off my

The circus was like nothing I had seen before. Bright blue and yellow striped tents that looked like they had grown right out of the ground. I don’t remember the circus announcing their arrival, or even them setting up. It just appeared in the large open field at the edge of the woods one day, and the town accepted it. I was in seventh grade and with my mother at the time, supposedly enjoying my fall break. But I was a twelve year old boy in a dusty old town that I didn’t hav

In the vast, perpetual web of space, beyond our galaxy and all those known, a little axolotl named Sammy floated along. Unlike Earth’s axolotls, Sammy explored the petrifying emptiness of the unknown. Alone in the stars, he drifted for lightyears; just a webbed-foot pioneer, sailing the seas of the cosmos. His shimmering pink gills rolled as he traveled like waves, the small blue on his body, a reflection of the galaxies he roamed. Galaxies that made this tiny salamander even

High, way above the swaying sea, a lone bird soared, her tan wings slicing through salty sea air, like a well-engineered sail, with unwavering determination. Her light feathers floating in the winds and shining in the warm sunlight, reflecting rays of gold and ultramarine as she levitated in the air. Yet, as she floated, each beat of her wings began to weigh down heavier. Below, the never-ending expanse of water, a glittery curtain of blue that seemed to swallow the horizon.

Fourteen-year-old Goody Moubray was in the woods. Why? She didn’t know. The trees around her loomed overhead, their branches clawing at the sky with skeletal limbs. The air was heavy and damp, and the ground soft and mushy with moss and decaying leaves. She looked around slowly, circling the area with a sense of caution at the unfamiliarity. She walked slowly. No trail. No sound. No sign of home. She remembered her town, Birch Hollow, small and warm, tucked away between rolli

“Will that be all, your majesty?” The scribe says after safely tucking the scroll under his arm and securing the pen to his hat. “Yes, I do believe so.” Damselle answers and watches the scribe turn to leave. Then before he gets the chance to leave she calls after him. “Actually,” He turns around eagerly. “I do think there is something you could do for me. Sit.” The scribe sits back at the desk, fresh parchment and ink dripping from the pen. “I want you to deliver a letter.” T

The gravel crunched and slid under the weight of the stopping wagon wheel. I turned to look at the path going left of me then the one...

The creak of the wood contracting from the waves downs out the sounds of the miserable crew. Seven months on a leaky ship and we have run...

In a small village, tucked between vast, rolling hills and dense forests, lived a girl named Mika. She had an unwavering passion for...

In 1932, at the age of ten, I decided to join the medical field and be a doctor. In 1966, I took the life of my last victim and of a beloved daughter. Over the 27 years that it’s been since I’ve last seen the Lexington family, my heart has grown to know pain. My grief, though weaker now, has not subsided. And my body is starting to fail me. Although I had suspected it then, I did not pay attention to the stress that my body was under. That day, when I was starting Mary’s s

Mary should have been home four hours ago. Her father will be home if he isn’t already there, to find his wife missing and his parents frantic. A note takes the place of Mrs. Lexington and her mother as they undoubtedly and aimlessly search the neighborhood for the missing child. Another daughter gone without a single clue to leave behind. Another wandering tyke lost to the belly of the beast. I called my employers to inform them about a loss of stock, but they instructed me

I want so desperately to weigh my guilt on a scale of punishment; to torment myself, to make my mind unsafe to live. If only I could justify my actions by bringing myself to insanity, by causing the mere reality around me to collapse. In a way that is unlike the twisted manner that I have brought into existence. But I can’t, my trouble is to live with my guilt. That is a great suffering. I loved her as my own child, that is my greatest suffering. The day I abducte

All I could do was watch, stare, study. The Victorian sat on the corner of a small intersection with sidewalks trimming the edges. The yard made a slight acute angle in the left corner where two crosswalks went their separate ways. On the other side of the street, to the left of the cherry tree was the drugstore that young housewives often flocked to in groups no smaller than three. Except for Mrs. Lexington who would go in solitude, determined to convince the other wives tha

Life is fragile. I know this to be true because I have seen so many shatter, and have been the cause of shattering. I watch. I study. I learn everything about the ways that people conduct their lives. Mr. Bonofiglio shaves his mustache every Tuesday morning at six o’ four and every Saturday evening after dinner, as his wife likes. I see this from my bathroom window into his and have made note of it. Charlotte, the adolescent daughter of the Willboughs, is picked up every Frid

When the cherries came, so did little Mary and her friends to harvest them. I never bothered to disturb the children while they picked the f

“Maid!” Damselle screams from her bedroom. A young female servant scurries into her room, bowing low once she reaches the princess. The peasant girl is thin and shaky, with smudges of furnace ash on her face. She stands short in stature and is in no way unique to her mistress’ eye, other than her being the furnace girl, to which, the princess has a strong vendetta. “Yes, ma’am?” She lifts her eyes to Mrs. Charming, but only slightly, sure to avoid eye contact. “Go fetch the s

I had never been called uncle by any other child. My siblings, from the little I can remember of them, had no children. Nor any...