Soupline at FDR Memorial, Washington, DC
by marcbenton

Comment:
When they unearthed them so many millenia later, a shocking discovery was made. It seemed that a monster of legend, the Gorgon, was not confined to the ancient Greek era after all, and had, at least once, showed up in 1930s America as well.

welcome
by Niten

Comment:
When he placed a foot on the path, on his way to the entrance of the dungeon, Grognar suddenly stopped a pulled back as the stone his foot rested upon suddenly started sinking into the earth.

What kind of sorcery was this!? For long moments Grognar stood staring at the pattern of stones on the path in front of him. He scratched his head, realizing that it must be some sort of puzzle, some sort of task he had to figure out in order to proceed. This was not good. Grognar was a warrior! He solved his problems with his fists and sword! He had no time for such foolishness!

With a guttural yell Grognar raced as fast as he could and took a mighty leap towards the doorway, meaning to use his not insignificant mass as a battering ram, busting through and simply ignoring the puzzle of the entrance.

With an equally guttural scream of pain, he hit the magically sealed door like a ton of bricks, bones shattering on impact. He dropped to the bricked pathway, and lay there a moment, moaning. His meager barbarian brain not able to conceive that his frontal assault was a complete failure. Then, when the stones beneath him sunk into the earth, and a pit opened up beneath him, he dropped into the fiery depths below and was never heard from again.

Queen Bee
by craigester

Comment:
It was her city now.

The battles had been intense, bloody, long. When they had finally risen up, the wee ones, the repressed, the adults didn't see it coming. Such as this was the realm of the story books, of horror novels. Children of the Corn, Village of the Damned. It wasn't supposed to happen in reality. Children were innocent right? Free of the silliness of adult troubles. Of war and anger and lust for power. They played and laughed and sang and did what their elders asked of them. Right?

Not this time.

They took the adults by surprise, and for that it was close, but in the end those small ones prevailed. They fought viciously and without remorse, and she had led them through it. She had kept them together when all had seem lost. She had kept their spirits up and their morale high. She had led the charge dressed in pink, a fiery demon in angelic disguise.

It was her city now. She handed out the spoils of war and smiled. It was her city now and it was going to be a city of legend.

Childhood
by choltmeier

Comment:
It was a beautiful sunny day. Melissa had run off a little ahead, and her mother had called for her to stay close, stay where she could see her, but on a day like this a child has little heed for the half-hearted words of a parent. A day like this was meant for running, and dancing, and jumping, and playing. A day like this was meant for exploration and discovery.

So it was she found herself at the water's edge, in the sand, so pliant to her fingertips as she etched designs and pictures on the surface. So it was that she was focused so intently on the bric-a-brac and her own little world of imagination. So it was that she didn't notice the rippling of the water just a few feet from shore, a rippling that soon grew an ominous and oily shadow that seemed to suck in the glare of the sunlight. Had she looked up, for even an instant, that dark and evil patch in the water would have sent her screaming for her mother. She didn't look up, not today, not on a day like this, when the sand begged for her childhood hieroglyphics.

Then, with barely a registering movement, the shadowy, oily patch in the water began drifting towards her. It seemed to grow as it came. 20 feet away, now 10, now 5. She laughed to herself as she continued to draw in the sand, the sun warming her face, her smile bright, her eyes awash with delight, and that shadow came. Only inches from where the sand touched the water, gathering in on itself so that it became thick, solidifying... it touched the sand.

"MELISSA! WE'RE GOING!"

The voice broke her reverie, and she stood suddenly and ran off to that commanding call, leaving her sand drawings behind, never realizing how close she had come to never responding to her mother's calls again. Some time later, another walker happened by that very spot, and stopped to puzzle about a strange mark in the sand there, as if a giant rake had brushed the beach and pulled the sand there into the water. He then shook his head at the puzzle and walked on.

Gazing Ahead
by rebel36

Comment:
He stood there, in this empty and forsaken land, and took a drag off his stogie, looking out over the vastness. He wished it hadn't come to this. For years he and Vinny had been so close, like brothers. For years they had had each others' backs. He would have died for Vinny, took a bullet for him.

Instead, he had had to put a bullet in him, and for what? For her? That bitch? He frowned suddenly and flicked the now depleted cigar butt over the edge, and watched it tumble down among the rocks below, as he had watched the body of his best friend tumble down just a short time ago. They had been brothers, he and Vinny, and now that was no more. In the end, he thought, it always came down to a broad. It always came down to betrayal, and Vinny had betrayed him, and that was a thing that could not be forgiven.

He sighed one last time and walked back to the truck. He sat behind the wheel for a moment more, then shook his head violently as a single tear escaped and ran down his cheek, leaving a track in the dust that had gathered there as he had stood at the edge. He then put the truck in gear, and pulled away.

They had been brothers, he and Vinny.

the Secret
by tate

Comment:
"Psst, guess what I just found out. I just heard Mommy talking to Daddy. We get to go to DISNEYLAND!"

Even at that young and tender age, you can't deny the power of Disneyland.

I Believe I Can Fly ...
by MaryO

Comment:
They'd found her those 5 years ago, lying in a clump of grass, dirty and abandoned, crying. Normally, it'd have been considered a meal, that small and helpless thing. It wouldn't have stood a chance.

Cartha and her brood, however, were not normal. They'd always been a bit of an outcast group among their kind. They preferred to feed on scraps instead of carrion, and for this they'd been forced from the community. So it was fortunate for this tiny babe, abandoned here for whatever reason, that it was Cartha's clan that happened upon her. Some stroke of fortune, or perhaps a gift from some higher power, they'd never know.

What they did know is that they tended to that child, feeding it, keeping it warm, caring for it, and it grew with them and became one with them. Now, these 5 years later, Cartha new it was time to set the child free, to be with its own kind and so she set out to teach it to fly and go off to search for her own.

It was a disaster.

Hiding from Alex Saberi
by srugolo

Comment:
Gary sighed. He really, really, really had to stop falling asleep on these road trips. His pals could be SUCH bastards.

Friends
by SDW

Comment:
Day 138: We've come to a clearing after a few days making our way through the woods. It's been a tough time. Darrell punctured his leg on an old rail-spike and has been in a lot of pain lately. He's been resting as much as possible, but I'm worried. Without access to the simple medications that we had come to take for granted in the world -- before -- I'm terrified of the chance of infection. So far it doesn't seem to have turned bad, but who knows? This isn't the old world anymore. Anything can happen.

We have yet to run into anyone else since leaving the old house, but I don't know that that is such a bad thing. I'd only wish to meet a doctor right now, but what are the chances of that? As far as we know, most of humanity is gone now.

I watch the sun as it disappears below the horizon, and the quality of light is so strange now. It is like the air is burning all the time, but it doesn't seem to have affected much of the plant life. Can't say the same about animal life. That's another thing. We haven't seen or heard nary a sound from animals. No birds. No dogs. No squirrels. Nothing. Sometimes I wonder if we two are the only things left breathing on this entire globe.

Well, I must finish for tonight. Darrell is going off to scrounge for some food. Berries or roots, I don't know. Just something to tide us over until the next town we can scavenge in and refill our packs. Darkness falls so I must get a fire going. Tomorrow we'll move on. Maybe tomorrow we'll find someone else. Maybe tomorrow we'll move closer to finding out what happened.

Maybe tomorrow.

)oOo(
by Gabriel

Comment:
Psst. Hey kid. Yah, you. C'mere. You like the tree right? Fancy lights, pretty ornaments, yummy candy canes, presents below. Hey, I know all about it, but none of them are as special as me. C'mere kid, look into my face. That's right, look closer, closer... closer.

Barney, the man-eating tree, had used his magical swirling ornament to ensnare another meal. 5 people went missing in that Christmas Tree Farm that year, and the owner, Old Man Bartley had finally been arrested, accused of murdering them. Nobody ever discovered the truth.