Tag: Fiction

100 Word Story – Medical

I am awake, but I don’t feel anything, was all I could think at the time. My lips wouldn’t move no matter how much I wanted them to; my mouth made no sound whatsoever. The only thing I could hear was my panicking heartbeat and the rapid inhales and exhales from my nose. I rolled my eyes down as far as I could to see what was happening.

There was a flashing light beaming in my eyes, slowly traveling down until it faded out. Behind it was a silver surgical tool—a scalpel.

I couldn’t move.

But the surgeon could.


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100 Word Story – Power Tools

We were finally done—Marcel took off his face mask. There was a fine line between where the splatter reached his face and how everything just below his nose was still untouched. His eyes looked at the massacre on the table then at me.

His hands were still shaking violently even after dropping the buzz saw, “Okay, it’s your turn. Go get the bag and clean up.”

My body was stuck on the other side of the room, refusing to move. I kept shaking my head, tears flooding out of my eyes.

“We just chopped up a guy’s dead body!”


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Legends of the Dark: Child at Play (Part Two)

This wasn’t a kid anymore; I was looking at something much different. A normal kid would have been climbing through the tree, acting like the bushes were walls to a fortress that they were trying to sneak into.

How long was she back here like this? How did the other kids not notice her back here? More importantly, how the hell did she even get like this?

This wasn’t my student–this was a monster.

As hesitant as I was, I forced myself to lean over and look behind the bush. That’s when I got my answers, but a new question arose: Why?

Part of me wished I didn’t.

100 Word Story – Flying High

The flight was terrible—everything was terrible. The flight attendants were constantly screaming their lungs out, the passengers wouldn’t follow instructions I gave them, the pilot lost a damn eye, it was crazy. I even had to put a bullet through this one guy’s head because he tried to act all tough shit.

Then, I had to get a new pair of sneakers once this plane got to where I needed it. I really liked them; they had a small snowman design on the sides. Now they looked like bloody snowmen.

I’m never going to try robbing a plane again.


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100 Word Story – Quote Mr. Masters

A great man once said… something I can barely remember. I think it was something about a tree and growth, I don’t know. All I’m certain was that the moral of the quote was something about practice.

I think it was something like “A tree takes decades to reach its full height,” or some shit along those lines. All I know is Mr. Masters was trying to tell me about my growing potential for alchemy, and that it would take years before I truly understood what kind of power I was dealing with.

Something like that, at least I think.


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100 Word Story – Opposite

The more I think about it, the more I realize just how much alike we really are. Aside from her rebellious dress-style, compared to my lavishly expensive tastes, we both have a common desire to get the best out of each other. She comes to me when she needs help paying off her monthly bills, and I come to her for my… womanly needs.

I’d admit, she has been certainly improving in terms of that. Almost makes me want to return the favor for her one day and see how she likes it. For now, paying her bills will do.


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Legends of the Dark – Cellar Chills

Yukiko felt the blood tricking out from her arm, ignoring her nerves screaming out in pain—her hand still had a tight grip around the pair of scissors. Her hair, flipped over and hanging down like a curtain, blocked all sight of her face, forcing her to watch the ground as she inched down the dead-end cellar. Her fingers started getting anxious, twirling the scissors around one of her fingers.

Her breath came out as thick mist as she spoke, “You have no idea how much I’ve been waiting to do this. I never actually tried this out on somebody.”

The young man couldn’t control the shivering that wrapped his entire body, partly from enduring the bitter bite of the fifty-eight degree cellar, and from the overwhelming fear that ate away at him. Even though he didn’t sustain too many injuries to cripple his ability to walk, his legs violently shook and made him come crashing back to the titled flooring anytime he tried to get back on his feet. The only thing that kept the small gap between him and the approaching woman was him clawing at the ground, trying to pull himself back further and further down to the other side of the cellar. He was afraid to try and look back behind him; he was afraid that if he looked away, the woman would vanish and take his life without even being seen. He would soon realize that he trapped himself in a corner.

The woman, Yukiko, continued spinning the scissors on her finger, her mind focused on the situation at hand. She lifted her head, sweeping her hair to the side, allowing just her right eye to be visible. Bloodshot, it rapidly darted around to get a complete scope of the hallway: windowless, freshly painted white walls, and a single vent in the ceiling. The faint humming a central cooling unit came from above. Every now and then the heel on Yukiko’s shoes would come down hard and echo.

“Aren’t you glad that I finally decided to come talk to you, one-to-one?” Yukiko asked, her voice calm and relaxed. The scissors spun at incredible speeds, eventually coming off of her fingers and went flying straight down the cellar, passing just inches away from the man’s cheeks, and wedging into the back wall. She saw the reaction in the young man’s face, his eyes widening, and his body locking up. Yukiko felt a smile crept across her face, “What’s wrong? You’re acting like you’ve just had a near-death experience.”

100 Word Story – Pride in Death

Death comes for us all. It was my turn. The large podium, shining from bones collected from the dead across centuries, ages, and eras, towered in front of me. In the center was a skull, void of expression.

Death leaned over the podium to look down at me; his black hood lacked a head, but it still stayed up, no face nor eyes, just an empty black hole looking at me. I couldn’t tell where his mouth was when he spoke, his voice deep, yet angelic.

“For the massacre of the Heavenly Realm, how do you plea?”

I grinned, “Guilty.”


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Legends of the Dark: Ghoulish Suffering

We got so far in this place. We’re just almost out of here. Only a few for flights and we would have made it out.

But Rodriguez, he’s… he’s like this all because of me. If I wasn’t so careless, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. And now, he’s going to die because of me.

I can’t do this. I just cant.

“Listen to me. You need… to go. The door won’t hold.”

Even at a distance the dying and decrepit features were easily in sight. As the groaning grew louder it seemed they were starting to ram the doors instead of just trying to push them open. The wood started to crack and splinter.

100 Word Story – Knocked Out

Waking up from a deep sleep was never really appealing to me. Sure, it’s nice that you feel well rested after enough hours of sleep, but it’s always a hassle waking up from such a peaceful sleep; sometimes, you’ll go back to sleep to get that feeling of pure bliss back.

But what about forcibly knocking somebody out in order to get them to cooperate? Is it still considered “sleeping” if they’re passed out for eight hours?

I leaned over the man’s face, inches away to hear his calm breaths of slumber. At least, that’s what I expected to hear.


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Steamy Display [18+]

I looked at the contents of my wallet: a small bundle of cash, assorted business cards, and both my work I.D. and my high school I.D. from three years ago. I took out the cash and counted out the requested amount, placing it in plain sight on the bedside table. I sighed, looking at the money under the bright pink room lighting.

Am I really going through with this? Is this really going to happen?

I felt the night breeze slip though the front of my robe, gliding right across the top of my breasts, still cooling off from the shower before. Though, to be honest, not even opening my entire robe to cool down in the nice breeze would be able to help get rid of the heat from the rest of my body. The more I thought about my reason for being here, the hotter my body became. Whether it was out of excitement or out of nervousness, I wasn’t sure.

Steam was flowing out from the open bathroom door, forming small clouds before dissipating in the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the silky bedspread, there was a faint outlining of the woman’s shape from behind the shower curtain. The finer details are hard to point out, but the curves around her hips are unmistakably obvious. The thickness in her thighs as she leaned over to wash her legs were in full sight. Her chest fell forward, her breasts holding firm without any kind of sag. Her hands were constantly on the move, traveling from her calves and taking a moment to stop between her thighs.

I didn’t even notice when my hand ended up between my own thighs. My legs were spread apart just a bit, enough for my fingers to touch and feel around. When I looked down I was already drenched, my fingers gently flicking at my warm clit. Slow breaths and letting myself ease up, I fell back on the bed and played with myself until the woman got out the shower.

My mind ran away on its own as my body went through its own sensation journey. One finger went inside my pussy, sliding in and out with ease, and my other hand cupped one of my breasts, massaging it in slow circles, magnifying the waves of subtle pleasure flowing through me. Those waves came crashing every time my finger pressed against the deepest parts of me, forcing me into uncontrollable moans. With the way things were going, I’d probably would have gotten off before the woman got out.

“Having fun without me?”

I heard a seductive voice speaking nearby. My entire body tightened up, my fingers still deep inside and my hand gripping at my breast. I quickly sat up, filled with more embarrassment than anything else now. The shower was still on, but the woman wasn’t basking in his steamy flowing water. Instead, she managed to walk out and stand right in the doorway between the bathroom and the bedroom. She casually leaned back against the doorway, her arms folded behind her head. Her hair was dripping at the tips, the weight of the soaked up water keeping it straight behind her. Water was pooling all around her, from the drips and trickles from her pink nipples, the rushing drops from her thighs, and every other curvy spot on her body.

She asked me again with a sly smile, “Having fun without me?”


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Bathtub [18+]

“Kuru-min! Could you come here for a second?”

I could hear Mrs. Kurosawa calling me from the upstairs bathroom. But, isn’t she taking a bath though? What could she possibly need me for? I folded the corner of my page and put the book on the couch, “Coming.”

I put my slippers on and took my time heading through the living room and up the stairs to the second floor. When I reach the top step there was a vanishing trail of steam leading me to the bathroom as if I didn’t know where it was. Right around the corner of the stairs I could see the hazy light of the bathroom peering through the cracked door.

I knocked on the door but didn’t enter yet, “Mrs. Kurosawa, did you need something?”

Swishing water sounds as Mrs. Kurosawa answered, “Yes. I forgot to get my towel from the bedroom. Would you mind going in and getting it for me?”

“Sure. Which color is it?”

“Green.”

I walk past the bathroom door and head to the last door straight down the hallway. I gently pushed the door open, the aged latches squeaking. This was easily the largest room in the entire house, aside from the living room area. There was a king-sized bed at one end of the room, three mahogany dressers placed in different spots, and a small work desk right next to an open window. There were clothes scattered around on different pieces of furniture, which was the only thing that made the room look just a bit untidy.

It’s actually a bit funny—I’ve always saw Mrs. Kurosawa as a neat freak. She would always have her things in neat detail. She would eat carefully, making sure nothing felt from her plate and onto her clothes. There were times where I would walk in on her reorganizing her entire closet just because she bought something new and it threw off her current organized pattern.

But there’s a pair of jeans on the back of a chair, a mismatched sock or two thrown here and there, and a balled up pajama top left next to the bed. And while I was noticing every piece of clothing lying around, I saw the green towel draped over her television. I grabbed it and left the room, heading back to the bathroom door. I knocked on it again, letting her know I have it. She told me to come into the bathroom with it and close the door.

When I opened the door, a small cloud of steam quickly escapes past me, emptying the entire room of any fogginess. Straight ahead was the large bathtub, filled with water practically at the brim, but not spilling out onto the floor. And inside the tub was Mrs. Kurosawa, in her naked glory.

I couldn’t tell if it was the heat floating around in the air or if something was wrong with me, but I felt my cheeks igniting right on the spot.

“Where do you want me to put the towel?” I asked.

She had her head resting back against a small bath pillow, her hair wrapped up in a small cloth to keep from getting in the water. She turned to look at me with a smile and said, “You can leave it right on the edge of the sink. I won’t be in here long.”

“Okay. Do you need anything else while I’m still here?”

She thought for a moment, but shook her head. I nodded and turned to walk back out the bathroom. Before I could even reach out to the door knob, Mrs. Kurosawa called out my name again and I stopped

“Kurumi, can I ask you a personal question?”