Short Story

Nightshade stirred, opening a single saucer-sized eye. Steam wafted from his nostrils as he scrambled from the cave, centuries of claw gouges defining his path. 

Not six months out of the Reaper Academy and already my scythe had died...

What happens when a rock god with a god complex loses everything but his own echo? Even before the last screeching echoes of guitar died...

When author Kelsey Critchett discovers her pirate ancestor Captain Flora Critchett’s journal hidden within the walls of her ancestral...

The Story Prompt He’d tracked her across tundra, across scrub forest and frozen muskeg. He’d tracked her till his fingers ached and his...

So imagine my surprise when I opened my eyes to find the dark-robed figure of Death standing over me, not smelling anything like rotting garbage. Or sickly sweetness. In fact, Death didn’t smell like anything at all.

Snow looks magical… until you have to shovel it off your roof.

Once, I had no toys—except the things people threw at us.