WRITERS' STORIES | Fantasy

Crimson Moon

(Cert: G) Short story about werewolves... by Patrick M. Bishop Published on: 26. April 2010
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         The Moon was in full bloom like a Rose on Valentine’s Day, almost crimson as it sat behind the clouds, beckoning me to it, calling to my innermost being to allow the beast to come forth. To let go and allow the beast within, freedom to hunt and propitiate it’s hunger. It’s bloodlust.            

          The voice of the Moon was so strong and sensual that it held me in its grip, it’s glowing, loving arms so tightly that I had to surrender to its call. As I began to let go of the human part of me giving the beast within the authority to escape from its prison of manly flesh, I felt the heat of passion arise in me causing me to have an erection even greater than when a woman is performing fallatio on me. My pants could not hold me as I screamed out loud to the Moon, “Yes!...” and the sound of my primal scream violated the night causing animals in the distant forest to answer back. 

           With my screams came the tearing of fabric and the stretching of skin as the sinew and bone shifted under my epidermis causing my blood pressure to rise above a level that would take the life of any man and making my heart beat at a pace faster than the immediate release of an orgasm that had been trapped for months, waiting for release. As I fell to the floor on all fours, clothing letting it’s last finger slip from its grip on my skin and falling to the floor around me, I began to writhe in a pain that was so great it felt like ecstasy and evil simultaneously. The pain was so great that in my mind all I could do was let go and let it happen because I could see death staring right at me, eye to eye, on all fours on the floor before me, mocking me, calling me to it. Just as I was ready to take death’s skeletal fingers the pain became instant pleasure and I came. An orgasm so mighty erupted from my penis that I vomited from the ejaculation of energy from my body. My soul... The feeling was unfathomable.

            As I sat there watching the metamorphosis of myself it was like I was outside of my body witnessing the entire occurrence. It was akin to a movie and I was a part of the audience, watching. The coarse hair beginning to push its way through my skin like a root pushing its way through a cement driveway to find the Sun’s light but with less struggle. My muscles changing shape and resembling the muscles of a large canine as they tripled in size and stretched, taking me from 6 foot 4 inches to 8 feet in height. My hands and feet becoming paws looking as if they were placed on my limbs backwards. My nails taking on the shape of claws, scratching the floor and creating sparks and deep gashes as I became use to the beast I was becoming.                                                                                                                                    

            At this moment I could feel my face begin to change shape as my mouth became a muzzle, extending to make room for my teeth that were becoming fangs, blood dripping from my mouth due to the extension of fangs from gums. The taste and the acidic fragrance of my blood turned me on causing my erection to grow once again and making me long for the taste of ripped flesh after the hunt. My keen sense of smell detecting the mixture of complex odors wafting on the night breeze and I could feel my eyes burning like the single flame on the tip of a match after striking it upon the box it once resided within. The colors of the windows to my soul becoming that of the Yellow Moon because all that was before me was a bright yellow but much more vibrant and vivid than before and my ears growing to a point and my hearing becoming much more acute, hearing every sound for miles. 

             The transformation coming to fruition I stood upon my new beastly legs, investigating my new body and looked across the room into the mirror to find a Werewolf staring back at me. Startled by the image, I almost gave chase but as I looked deeper into the waters of the mirror I could see myself. I could see a deeper me, a better me, a stronger me, a more beautiful me, a greater me. A freer me… This beastly me that the Moon had called forth, I was in love with and did not want to let go of…

            As I felt the fire begin to rise within, a deep, guttural howl escaped from the depths of my Werewolf/Man soul and out into the night answering the calls of the Moon. I knew it was now time to hunt. I knew that I owned the night and as I ran wild and free I could do anything with it I pleased.

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Magic Bags and Forgotten Princesses

story of a teacher who chooses to track down an ex-student of his whose tragic end raises questions for him. by Ken Goldman Published on: 16. September 2009
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The article in the morning paper about Denise Duncan covered little more than two inches of column space.   There was no photo,  no mention of her accomplishments, and nothing about what had led her to do what she had done. More...

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Fantasy | General Fiction

Life in a fishbowl

(Cert:G) Life in a Fishbowl is the tale of a fish who, due to a petshop owner's accident, gained the ability to speak. 'Bill' the Goldfish tells the story of his life, how his owner, Timmy, came to adopt him, and how, through the years, he helped the boy became a man. by Kody Boye Published on: 16. September 2009
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I don’t know how to start, but I’ll start like this. My name is Bill, and I’m a carnival goldfish. Now, if you don’t know what a carnival goldfish is, it’s one of those fish that never, ever die. One of the fish that can’t die from old age, or from tank sickness. A carnival fish is one of the fish that can only die from accidental stupidity, or the cruelty of an owner.
            How am I telling you this story?
            Well, that’s another matter entirely.More...

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Childrens | Fantasy

WHAT’S UP, PERSEUS?

The story below is based on the Greek myth of Perseus and Andromeda. Readers who do not know it would do well to familiarize themselves at least with the names of the characters and their place in the myth. by Tala Bar Published on: 15. February 2009
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1 

Perseus had trouble with his flying. Hermes’ winged sandals were all very well, but he wished he had a pair of proper wings, like Eros for instance, or at least a winged horse to ride on; that Pegasus, that jumped out of Medusa’s blood when he had cut her head! Now, how did that happen? Of all the marvels More...

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Fantasy | Folklore

Evergreen Academy and the Golden Club

(Cert: G) by Chris Geszvain Published on: 1. October 2006
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Chapter 1
A mysterious disappearance

Daniel woke up in the middle of a summer night, disoriented. He felt like an invisible hand had jerked him out of sleep. The bedroom was dark. With the leaden starlight from the window, every piece of furniture was like a crouching beast, cold and menacing. More...

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Fantasy

The Ghost In Chains

(Cert: G) by Norman A. Rubin Published on: 19. February 2005
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Everyone is proud of a memory of a favourite uncle that had given honour to one's family. Our esteemed kin was known to all of us by the name Oncle Sam in the enunciatiation of greenhorns from an Eastern country across the seas. More...

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Fantasy | Folklore

The Evil Underneath

(Cert: PG) by Joe McCullough Published on: 9. June 2004
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Morcar gripped his axe in sweaty hands and stumbled up the hill. His legs ached from the effort. His lungs burned inside his chest. He glanced upward and saw his friend Hereward standing on the hilltop, the sun glinting off his mail shirt.

Hereward pushed a long blondMore...

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Fantasy

The Peach Picking Tune

(Cert: G) by Michael Manis Published on: 13. April 2004
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Peaches growing in the trees. Fuzzy, round, sweet spheres falling from the branches, rolling on the ground. Eaten by young, smooth hands. The sun hung in the sky and tanned his skin, made him dark as a gunpowder cloud.

Then there was the tune. Music unlike anything he’d ever heard. He stopped biting halfway through the peach, his jaw lingering there like a rusty hinge. His mouth overflowed with sweet, silky juices. More...

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The Potentate of Ballyhoo

(Cert: G) by Thomas Canfield Published on: 1. April 2004
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“Come now, little master.” Rimbaud looked up. He had been sitting on the stone step of the church, hands dangling between his thighs, head bowed. The beadle had slipped up on him unawares. “Why so sad? It’s a beautiful day. You should be out romping in the fields with the other boys.”

“It’s my unicorn, sir.” Rimbaud reached over and stroked his unicorn’s pure white flanks. “He’s sick.” More...

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A Fools Love

(Cert: G) by Paige Gunn Published on: 16. February 2004
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The only girl in a family of twelve brothers, a father who was the best and most respected male warrior, you could probably guess how I turned out.
No one could say I turned out to act like a young man. But then More...

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