Florida Man
Story created by
possession
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All characters are 18 or over
Allan was nervous as he and Kevin got ready for the party. This would be the first time he's ever been to one of these, and Kevin said a lot of students in their grade would be there. Especially since this would probably be the last time most of them would see each other.
I hope Kevin and I can manage to stay in touch at least, Allan thought, grabbing his phone from the charger, wouldn't be that hard, right? A simple text here and there, asking what's going on? How are you doing?
“Yo, All…
The night was a black shroud, pulled tight over the world of Elara. No moons broke the cloud-cover; the only light came from the great fire pit at the heart of the Stone Circle. Around it, figures moved in a slow, silent dance. They were tall, unnaturally slender, their skin the color of bone under the bruised sky. Their ears, elongated and pointed, twitched at the crackle of the flames. They were the Lumin, the pale people of the twilight forests, and their faces were masks of hollow-cheeked s…
All characters are 18 or older.
Rachel Smith came home from school exhausted. She did not want to think about going back to school for tomorrow, the tests she’d taken today alone had mentally drained her and going back tomorrow to finish the rest of them was not a pleasant thought. At least that would be their last day of testing for a while. I almost forgot Rachel thought as she plopped down onto the couch, I promised Elizabeth and Susan I'd check up on them.
Me: Hey all!
How were the tests?
Elizabeth: Ugh! …
Note: This is a commissioned work that has not been personally written by me. I have been granted permission to distribute and share the story by the original author.
The push mower's dull rattle droned in Kent’s ears, blades whirring through the grass. His body strained beneath the midday sun, and through damp lashes, he caught the blur of a cherry-red convertible roaring down the road—top down, laughter trailing like exhaust.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wiping away another hand of sweat.
The mower sputtered as he yanked it over a thick patch near Julie’s hydrangeas. He imagined Marcus at the wheel, music cranked, their friends crowded in the ba…
All characters are above 18 years old.
....
The autumn air hung thick and heavy over the Blackwood Cemetery, a place the local teens whispered was cursed. For Brad, Jarred, Carl, and Thomson, it was just another stage for their particular brand of nihilistic entertainment. They weren't delinquents in the traditional sense; they didn't steal cars or deal drugs. Their crime was a far more insidious one, a campaign of psychological warfare waged against anyone they deemed lesser, which, in their…
Female, 26 years old, of Korean descent. She is a doctoral candidate in philosophy in Country U. She possesses a deep interest in the natural environment, human society, ethics, and philosophical thought.
Cassandra begins having the same dream over and over again.There are no images in it—only sound. Countless faint noises: scraping, friction, gnawing—like billions of jointed limbs crawling through the darkness. And in that darkness, something within her—certain buried sexual desires and longings—are subtly, almost imperceptibly stirred.She clearly perceived certain caresses, certain intrusions, and even orgasms; it wasn't a dream. Because when she woke up, the afterglow of her orgasm hadn't faded, and she could still hear the sounds deep in her eardrums.
The sounds began in the silence.
Not a crescendo, but an infiltration—a soft, relentless scratching that seemed to originate not in the room around her, but inside the canals of her own ears. Cassandra lay perfectly still in the dark of her graduate housing apartment, the thin blanket a weightless shroud over her slender form. Her eyes were open, fixed on the ceiling’s vague shadows. She was awake. She had been awake for the last forty-seven minutes, according to the pale green numerals on the…
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