Advice, insights and news
Free 10-day publishing courses
Free publishing webinars
Free EPUB & PDF typesetting tool
Launch your book in style
Assemble a team of pros
A weekly short story contest
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020
We take shelter in the clay-brick building, in the center of the village. I follow along behind my mother, clutching the sleeve of her robes with one hand and carrying my baby sister in the crook of my other arm. I hear the sounds of horse hooves and shouting growing nearer as we descend down the carefully-cut stairs into the underground basement. The walls and floor are stained with blood – dried, but still a vibran...
“I got a letter this morning.” “A letter?” “Yeah, a letter. From my girl on the outside.” “How’s she doing, with the baby and all?” “She’s uh… She says she’s leaving me. She’s taking little Emily and they’re leaving.” “No shit? Damn it, man. Where’s she going?” “I don’t know. She wouldn’t say. Probably thinks I’m too dangerous...
Muffled voices fade in and out of the infinite black void. I strain to hear what’s being said, but it’s no use. I can’t make out a single word. The feeling in my body slowly begins to return, bringing with it a throbbing pain in my head and my chest. I can’t move my arms. A groan escapes my lips as I open my eyes, worsening the pain in my head. Blurred shapes come into focus around me in the small white r...
“No blindfold, please. I’d prefer to see my death coming.” The guard let out a cynical laugh. “You think you’re so tough saying that, don’t you?” He stepped in front of me, leaning his face inches away from mine. The minty-fresh smell of his breath was quite a contrast to his psychotic grin. “Nearly every person executed here has said the same thing. And you wanna know something? They all died the same wa...
I lay strapped to a sterile white table, the restraints tight against my torso and arms. The small, white room smells of death and antiseptic. A lone warden stands against the far wall, his silver badge shining beneath the white lights. I can raise my head just enough to peer out the wall of glass windows. Two men walk slowly towards the door; one of them wears white, the other wears black. A doctor and a priest. They en...
The woman’s piercing scream tears me from my sleep, shattering my blissful dreams as I explode out of bed in the moments just before dawn. I can’t see a thing. The woman screams again, her cries of desperation rising up from the street and through my third-floor window as I frantically kick my way out of the tangled blankets. I crouch beneath the window, poking my head up just far enough for my eyes to c...
“You know, it doesn’t count if you’re already planning your defeat.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. From a stranger, no less. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “What ‘doesn’t count’?” A man stood beside me on the bridge. I hadn’t heard him approach; he sort of just appeared. He was handsome, I have to admit that. His three-piece suit looked as though it had bee...
“James, I’m scared. I think we should go home.” Anabel peered through the wrought iron gate into the sprawling cemetery. The sun was just beginning to set, and so the sky was filled with vibrant shades of pink and orange deepening into a dull purple tone. Rows of tombstones and sepulchers – some of them dating back to the Civil War – stood among towering oak trees, tendrils of ivy clinging to their crumb...
I can’t move.My body is completely numb. The world is nothing but darkness, a velvety black curtain stretching in every direction.Rose!What was that? The voice faded almost before I could hear it, lost in the infinite void. Once again there is silence.Rose, can you hear me? I hear it again, louder this time. The sound pierces through the inky veil, like an invisible hand dragging me up from the murky depths.Ros...
Forty-seven days. For forty-seven days, Staci Richards was held captive at the hands of a madman. Pulled from her bed in the dead of night, her mouth was stuffed with dirty rags so she couldn’t cry for help. Her hands and feet were tied, leaving her to lay helpless on the floor as her assailant crept into the next room, putting a bullet in each of her parents’ heads. He carried her out the...
“What would you like for your last meal?” The guard’s typically menacing voice had taken on a softer tone, almost one of pity. He stood just outside the heavy metal door, a slot open in its face so he would be heard. Aside from that, a small window near the ceiling was the only indication that the outside world continued to exist. “Apple pie, please. Some ice cream with it, if you can.”
Sergeant Oliver Crowe raced across the war-torn hillside. Barbed wire tore at his feet, threatening to pull him down into the mud. If only he could make it to the forest, then he might have a chance at hiding. He held his helmet tightly against his head, bullets whizzing past from every direction. “Grandpa!” Branches snapped under his boots with each step, a dull ec...
“Owen!” Claire’s piercing voice rang out through the cluttered apartment. She stood in the kitchen, her slender frame dwarfed by the mountains of junk piled across every available surface. The sink was filled with pots and pans without a cupboard to call home, and the countertops seemed to bend beneath the weight of unopened letters and overdue bills. Even the dishwasher was filled with an a...
Anastazia Rudolph has not written a bio yet!
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email: