Jethro Pili

“Hostile At Nine O'clock ” by Jethro Pili

Jack "Gunny" Harper had seen it all. He’d been a career Marine since he was 18. His friends served for one or two years and wanted out. He didn’t leave until he reached retirement age. He’d stormed beaches under enemy fire, survived insurgent attacks in hostile deserts, received scars from Desert Storm, and manned the tight quarters of submarines with a calm demeanor that made younger Marines look to him with awe. The thought of an enemy sub firing a torpedo at them didn’t faze him one bit. He was content with a watery grave. He lived by the...

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“The Echoes of Humanity” by Jethro Pili

The hum of fluorescent lights and the muffled whir of air filters filled the bunker, a cocoon of metal and concrete buried beneath the surface of a dead world. For 27 years, David Mathis had lived here, sheltered from the fallout that had turned the planet above into a poisoned wasteland. The world he remembered—a world of crowded city streets, laughter, and human touch—was gone, incinerated in the fires of nuclear war.  David paced the bunker’s narrow corridor, his boots scuffing against the cold floor. The mannequins were arranged in ...

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“The White Void” by Jethro Pili

The wind howled, a banshee's wail ripping across the barren landscape. Snow blasted sideways with such force it stung like shards of glass against Dylan's exposed skin. His parka hood flapped wildly, tugging against the weight of the storm. Each step felt like wading through a sea of quicksand, the drifts swallowing his boots whole.  It was supposed to be a simple hike. A weekend escape in the mountains. He had checked the forecast—clear skies and a crisp chill. But weather in the high altitudes was unpredictable, and the blizzard had ...

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“The Green Divide” by Jethro Pili

Sammy and Joe had always been inseparable. Their laughter used to echo down the streets of their childhood neighborhood, where games of catch turned into deep conversations about dreams and futures. Even after going to different colleges, fate brought them back together, teaching at the same high school in their hometown. It felt like destiny—the universe's way of ensuring they remained a team.But everything changed the night of the blackout.It wasn’t the kind of power outage that flickered back on in a few hours. It was a suffocating, all-e...

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“The Ashes of Avalonia” by Jethro Pili

The fallen prince stood barefoot in the mud, his linen tunic damp from the mist that rolled in off the sea. His black hair, drenched with sweat, was plastered to his fevered brow. The tang of salt was a pale ghost of what he remembered from the high cliffs of Avalonia, his father’s kingdom. Here, the salt air was harsh, bitter, an unwelcome reminder of his exile.  Alden, once Prince of Avalonia, now a peasant in the faraway land of Andareth, leaned on his hoe, surveying the small garden patch he was tasked to till. His hands, once accus...

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“Something Wicked This Way Comes” by Jethro Pili

The storm rolled in without warning, dark clouds swallowing the sky and casting an eerie pall over the twin towns of Harper's Crossing and Millhaven, Vermont. The two towns, separated by a meandering river, had always been close-knit rivals. Harper’s Crossing prided itself on its bustling main street, dotted with cafes, bookstores, and boutiques. Millhaven, in contrast, was quieter, known for its sprawling farmland and close-knit families.  But something had changed.  It began on a Thursday, just as the first drops of rain splatter...

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“A Seat At The Table” by Jethro Pili

At the end of the school year, Jake Parker was still a nobody. He sat in the cafeteria at the same table he always did—alone. The noise of students laughing and chatting around him felt like it belonged to another world. His heart thudded in his chest, a constant reminder that, despite his best efforts, he was invisible. The cafeteria buzzed with energy, with cliques that had their own inside jokes and alliances. There were the jocks at one table, the cheerleaders at another, the “artsy” kids, the tech geeks, and then, of course, the popular...

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“The Cat & The Sword” by Jethro Pili

The moon hung low and fat over the city, casting its ghostly light across the shadowy streets and alleyways. Alex adjusted the collar of his jacket and squinted down the narrow alley, his footsteps echoing softly against the wet cobblestone. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was out so late, but he knew it had something to do with the sleek black cat weaving through the puddles just ahead of him. It had all started with a simple look. He’d been sitting at his favorite café, enjoying a cup of tea after a long day, when the cat appeared out of no...

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“Friday Night Lights” by Jethro Pili

The stands were buzzing with energy as the crowd cheered on Brookside High’s Bumblebees in their homecoming game. It was Friday night under the floodlights, and the cool autumn air was thick with excitement. But as much as the fans hoped for a victory, the score on the board made it clear: the Bumblebees were struggling. The Stallions, their rivals from Stanton High, were leading by a narrow margin. And with just minutes left on the clock, the Bumblebees needed a miracle.Earlier, during halftime…The halftime locker room was a tense place. Th...

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“From Haunted To Healed” by Jethro Pili

Submitted to Contest #275

Maggie Montgomery had lived in the third-floor apartment for only a few months when she first noticed the shadows. San Francisco nights had their own ghostly feel to them, she thought—wind slipping down narrow alleys, fog blanketing the streets, and lights blinking through mist—but this was something different. Every night, without fail, seven shadow figures appeared in her apartment, filling the corners, hovering by the walls, or lurking just outside her view. At first, she tried to ignore them. She figured the city, or maybe just her mind,...

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“A Little Fall Of Rain” by Jethro Pili

The Texas sun beat down on the small town diner parking lot, the stifling heat mingling with the stench of asphalt, gasoline, and sweat. Six FBI agents stood on the cracked concrete, their casual clothes sticking to their skin as they eyed the nondescript sedan across the lot. They blended in with the crowd, but their tension betrayed their presence, eyes locked on the car that sat in the far corner. The fugitive was in there, and they had him. "Are you sure this is the place?" SSA Trystan "Boss" Thorne asked, his voice low but commanding.&n...

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“The Hunt” by Jethro Pili

Ryan Hall crouched in the shadows, the faint sound of his prey’s footsteps echoing through the narrow alleyway. He moved silently, his body a black silhouette against the dim lights of Compton’s streets. His prey—unaware, unalarmed—had no idea what was coming. It was a young woman, maybe twenty-five, dressed in baggy jeans and a hoodie pulled tight against the autumn chill. But Ryan didn’t care about her clothes or her past. All that mattered was the scent of blood, hot and pulsing just beneath the surface of the woman’s skin. Ryan’s chest t...

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“Curiosity Killed The Cat” by Jethro Pili

Ted Piznarski tiptoed down the narrow staircase of their family’s large home, the kind of house that had both a regular kitchen and a dairy kitchen. It was midnight, and the whole place was quiet except for the faint creaks of the old wood under his socks. Ted, though careful, wasn’t worried about waking his parents. They slept like rocks in the upstairs bedroom, especially after Friday night Shabbat dinner. But his brother Jeremy, now that was a different story.  Ted made his way to the dairy kitchen, a small space off to the side of t...

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“The Weight of Expectations” by Jethro Pili

Josh sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the pile of textbooks stacked high on his desk. The light filtering through the window did little to brighten the oppressive atmosphere of his room, which felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. A small clock ticked rhythmically, each second a reminder of the time slipping away as he wrestled with the dark thoughts swirling in his mind. “Josh! Get in here!” his father’s voice thundered from downstairs. He winced, knowing he couldn’t ignore the call. Sliding off the bed, he shuffled down t...

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“The Phantom of the Factory” by Jethro Pili

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the smell of coffee. It’s a strange smell to be greeted with after so long. I haven’t smelled much of anything in—how long has it been? Years? Decades? Time gets slippery when you’re dead. I remember the smoke, though. The bitter scent of it, the crackling roar of fire eating through the rafters, and then nothing. But now, there’s coffee. And voices. Lots of voices. Children laughing, someone humming, pots clanging. None of it makes sense. The last time I was here, there was nothing but charred beam...

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