Ryan Turberville

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2024

Stories (4)

4 Stories

29 karma pts

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“The Dawn In The Abyss ” by Ryan Turberville

Submitted to Contest #282

The Dawn in the Abyss The world had always been dark. For as long as anyone could remember, the sky above was a void of impenetrable black, the earth beneath a terrain of deep shadows and unseen edges. In this place, sight was an alien concept. People moved by touch, sound, and memory, their lives a perpetual navigation of the unseen. Villages were collections of huddled huts bound together by taut ropes that served as guides. Families marked their homes with unique wind chimes, their soft tinkling a beacon for returning travelers. There wer...

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“Eavesdrop ” by Ryan Turberville

Eavesdropper Claire adjusted her uniform cap, pulling it low enough to shield her face. She hated the fluorescent lights in the diner. They made everything too bright, too real. Still, it was a job, and in a small town like Benson Hollow, jobs didn’t come easy. It wasn’t much, but it paid for rent on her crumbling trailer, plus the occasional indulgence of a scratch-off lottery ticket. She leaned on the counter, the morning rush finally thinning out. Only a handful of patrons lingered—old-timers nursing coffee, a couple at the corner booth w...

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“The Hungry Silence” by Ryan Turberville

The Hungry Silence (Fully Expanded) I woke to the world again, not with thought but with need. The cold seeped into my limbs, sluggish and stiff, and yet, there was a distant, relentless thrum in my chest. It wasn’t a heartbeat—not like before—but it was a pulse of something deeper. Something alien. Somewhere, buried under layers of rot and instinct, I remembered a time before this hunger. A time when I felt full, whole, alive. That memory was gone now. Or maybe it was simply out of reach, buried beneath the infection that coursed through me...

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“The Sound Of Breaking Plates” by Ryan Turberville

Submitted to Contest #278

The Splintered Table The Morrison family dinner was supposed to be a celebration. Lila, the youngest, had just been accepted into her dream college, and everyone gathered to toast her success. But as the roasted chicken cooled on the table, the atmosphere turned from jubilant to acrid. It started innocently enough. Lila mentioned she was considering a major in art history, which led to her father, John, delivering one of his infamous lectures on “practical careers.” “Art history, Lila? What are you going to do with that? Become a starving ar...

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