-The best stories on the web-
Read or link to over 1000 stories listed under Stories to the left.
Submit your short stories for review as a Word document attached to an email to: Read@Short-Story.Me

Latest Stories

March 19, 2024
Fantasy Stories Wondering Monk

Just My Imagination

The alarm clock went off and started playing an awful tune. Tom opened his eyes and closed them back, squinting. He reopened one eye and stood up to stop the torture. The phone was on the desk, in the furthest spot from the bed. Although he changed his way of…
March 19, 2024
Science Fiction Stories Ocelotlzin

Earth Is Dead

Recording… It doesn't matter who I was; I probably lived a long time ago, and I am now just a voice someone added to the audio-visual records. What is essential is the recollection of events that lead to the current state. So, a little history needs to be…
March 08, 2024
Flash Fiction Benoit

Some Enchanted Evening

It was a rugby tackle with tears: Chrissy burst in, sobbing and babbling, hugging James. Her face was all wet, eyes wild. What…? My parents split up, Dad has moved in with his boyfriend and I cannot join them. I am shut out. I have lost my dad. Torrent of…
March 08, 2024
Horror Stories Marvel Chukwudi Pephel

In The Hands Of My Legs

The car pulled up in front of the large salon. The neon sign, that sexy broad thing, on the salon'sroof read "Mr. Gil's All-night Salon". The exhaust pipe of the car was pumping solid smoke, theswirls moving from the car and towards the salon.…
March 07, 2024
Mystery Stories Vanessa Leigh Giles

Casualty of Love in the Time of Coronavirus

Chapter 1 Until Death do us Part ‘Ring, ring!’. I answered the telephone and asked, “Hello, good evening. Who’s this? “Hello.” This is Dr. Smith from Red Cross hospital. “Is this Mr. Locke, John?”, he asked, hesitantly scratching his bald head. “Yes, doctor.…
March 07, 2024
Crime Stories Robert Pook

Bar Room Trigger

Another return journey on footpaths so familiar. He strides across each crack in each paving stone. Regular loose drain covers sidestepped. Mapping long ago mapped in Richard’s desolate mind. His pace hastened by the sight of the oncoming storm. Quickening…
March 04, 2024
Horror Stories Ano Chinemerem

Sanctity

Where should I begin? I could begin by telling you about this comely boy, whom every notable person around the streets agrees his smile could charm the bills off one. Between one smile, there was his goodness, his dreams and humanity—a little far ahead?— but…
March 04, 2024
Flash Fiction Emanuel Diaz

Et Mortui Partium

As Rafael stepped out into the rain, it wasn't the ordinary drops that fell from the sky. Instead, it was a storm of souls, each one taking the form of shimmering jewelry as it cascaded toward the ground. Rubies, diamonds, and sapphires twinkled amidst the…
February 29, 2024
Poetry Jing Li Ava

London

‘Am I in London?’ "I am." Where is Elizabeth? Happy living story All of your chapter Bounlance joy Please my heart Power hand Wise mind Our baby Vow vow Love all love Miss I miss Endless wonder Bring us together Love all love Miss I miss For everything My…
February 29, 2024
Flash Fiction Rob Pook

Life Sentence of The Smith

Born nine months after his country won the World Cup.A child prodigy.Cast off at age twenty-four.Husband, father, emigree, away on the other side of the world.The blue-collar life.The dreams of success.The search for fulfillment.The long years of empty…
February 29, 2024
Mystery Stories Joshua Lowther

The Operator

Jason looked over to his right, his eyes barely able to focus themselves on the subject of his attention. His neck ached terribly from the strenuous movement. He was tired. The captain’s gaze came to rest on the rookie sonar operator sitting tense at his…
February 29, 2024
Flash Fiction Salvatore Difalco

The Chute

At dusk, we left our unit with a soft pink bundle. I carried it through the wet streets and into the black woods. I said I’d take it all the way, the bundle, but that we had to drop it in together. My wife’s green eyes flashed. “Don’t make me do that.” I…

It’s 3 AM on an extremely cold and dark New York City winter morning in 1984. The dispatcher breaks the quiet over the police radio with his disinterested, sleep deprived and monotone transmission:

13 Edward - Shots Fired - Latham Hotel...Room 606 - Anonymous  Caller.

“Don’t these fuckin’ people ever sleep?” Frankie grumbles to himself as he finishes a long yawn and adds an audible and drawn out “Shitttttt!” as an afterthought. He gets a chill in deep in his bones.

If you think this cop and his partner were upset about going on another gun run? Think again. These cops just don’t want to leave the warmth of their RMP.

***

They walked right past the sleeping Desk Clerk behind his bullet resistant glass cage.  They know this Single Room Occupancy Hotel. It’s one of the many magnets of the dregs of the 13th Pct. A conduit of street scum filled with hookers, pimps, junkies and other assorted miscreants.

Sean and Frankie then take the slow ride up in the urine smelling elevator.

All is quiet on the sixth floor, except for the hum of the intermediately blinking dim neon light’s ballast. In addition, the clanking of the steam radiator provides an eerie cadence as they move down the narrow hallway.

They hug the wall as they quickly converge on the room.

The door of Room 606 is slightly ajar.

The lights in Room 606 are out.

Ambient light is practically nonexistent.

But they can make out the form a man slumped in a big chair with a whiskey bottle in his lap.

Also exposed is a big shiny silver gun in the man’s lap.

His face remains in the shadows.

It’s Sean’s turn to take the “point.”

Sean draws down on the figure as he kicks open the door.

Frankie immediately follows him in.

They triangulate on the man.

“Give it up, Mother Fucker!” Sean yells as they watch for the man to grab the gun lying within his grasp.

But the man does not move.

They move in closer. Their guns trained on the man.

 

They’re both confused when at that exact moment, a goopy mess falls right on the Sean’s left shoulder as they simultaneously notice about half of the man’s head is missing.

Unknown to the cops, this guys brains and part of his skull were barely sticking to the ceiling.

M U T H E R F U C K E R!  - Sean  screams.

Apparently, this guy blew part of his head off and some of his brains and skull stuck to the ceiling. All with that big old .45 Caliber pistol now resting peaceably in his lap.

Frankie says, “I gotta start wearing my fuckin’ glasses!”

“Well, at least we didn’t shit ourselves.” Frankie observes as he breaks out in a loud laugh.

But then in a few seconds, the odor from Sean’s pants reaches Frankie…………

 

Stephen A. Murray’s first novel : NYPD: The Way Things Were:

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=NYPD+The+Way+Things+Were

Frankie Neptune left driving a New York City taxi and a career in academia to become a NYC police officer. It was a tough time—back in the seventies and into the early nineties—to be a cop. Crime was soaring, and the city was wild. Back in the day, unconventional cops could still have a good time protecting the innocent, teaching skells some manners, and annoying their suspicious sergeants- all while finding out who really killed a respected transvestite.

Politically Incorrect Fiction at its BEST!

0
0
0
s2sdefault

Donate a little?

Use PayPal to support our efforts:

Amount

Genre Poll

Your Favorite Genre?

Sign Up for info from Short-Story.Me!

Stories Tips And Advice