The Axe-A Short Story

The axe swung through the air with all the strength he had. The blade was sharp, it had been sharpened only an hour earlier and it was eager to cut. He had fought earlier with his wife over something small, doesn’t matter what, it still pissed him off. He was mad enough to do something he might regret.

When a sharpened axe is swung at full force there is no stopping it. It will continue, ready to do its job. The axe continued down, sweat fell from his forehead and beaded on the now lowered axe handle.

The sound of the crack was out of place in the quiet afternoon.The birch log split easily from the weight of the axe. His wife stepped over and said, “I’m sorry about our fight.” “Me too,”  he replied. ” I will get that fire going and we will get the hot dogs out”. A crow screeched in a tree as the afternoon sun peeked out from behind a cloud.

I hope you enjoyed my very short story, please let me know what you think.


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Feed-A Short Story

I woke up like any other day or at least I thought it was. Usually, I wake up in my bed not laying in the dirt in an alley. It was cloudy out and foggy and I had a headache. I needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

My name is ….actually I don’t remember,  I don’t remember anything other than snapshots of a bar last night. I was with a girl. Hanging out and she introduced me to a friend of hers. We were all talking and laughing and I remember he scratched me on my arm. That’s all I remember and I woke up here covered in dirt. The scratch on my arm looks more like an axe wound. Twelve inches of flesh opened up, now it’s red and greenish black. Obviously infected. No pain. That’s weird, right?

I heard voices from the end of the alley and I needed to get help and maybe some answers. I called out but no one answered. I stood up. Unsteady, shaky like I forgot how to walk. Without thinking I began to follow the voices. When I got to the end of the alley I saw hundreds of people only they weren’t real people. They were dirty, grey, bloody, rotting, skeletal things. They looked like they crawled out of a grave. They were all lurching and stumbling in the same direction toward nothing.

I heard a scream from a house to the side of me and saw a man in a suit get attacked by three of these things. They grabbed him and twisted off his hand sending a spray of arterial blood onto the shirts of the attackers. One of the others bit his neck and tore a piece out the size of a sirloin steak and a stream of red poured down his jacket and all over the attackers. I wasn’t bothered by this violence, in fact, I was naturally drawn to it and began stumbling toward them.

I heard some slightly familiar bangs and a lady walking beside me fell to the ground after her head snapped back. I felt something push me hard in the shoulder but there was no pain. I then noticed my head went back and I was looking up at the grey sky. Then I was on the ground again.

A man stumbled and fell over me and his dusty, skeleton arm fell off and rested on my leg. I knew where the pressure was in my head. I was stunned but it didn’t really bother me. I stood up and I saw the man that had put the hot thing in my head. I was hungry. It was time to feed.


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