15th of September – Season 3 Styles crossed the finish line and swore. As he took off his helmet, preparing to get out of The Cursed Conundrum, he noted the approaching mechanic and gave him a stern look. “This isn’t working,” said Styles. “There’s still too much drag.” “I know,” said the mechanic. “I think it’s the filter. We need to change it. Sorry, Styles.” Styles had never known how to be angry at someone who’d apolo...

6th of September – Season 3 Devì had never really been shy about being in front of the camera. In fact, the word shy wasn’t part of her vocabulary which was why she was currently dressed in tight leather pants and matching cropped leather jacket over an even tighter crop tank top. She was hot and she knew it. However, tonight wasn’t about her looks. Devì had spent the entirety of the off-season using her modelling experie...

It's funny how a name can take you back, revive forgotten memories, put you in touch with a simpler, more secure time. It normally happens unexpectedly as well, puts you off your guard. Take this morning. I'm coming down the stairs ready to head off to the office, the recent rumours of redundancies bouncing around my head. I walk into the kitchen and my wife is sitting at the table, over a cup of coffee, poring over the l...

The events that would end in the major’s death began to unfold long before Christmas Eve. This I know only retrospectively: until the moment the major was shot, none of us could have predicted it. One thing you learn during wartime – more than at any other period, perhaps – is that while you may sense an imminent threat, or shiver with foreboding, it is only afterwards the connections that contributed to an event become c...

This is not my story, it’s Chrissy’s story, and you’ll understand why she’s not telling it in a while. And it’s a true story, though I’ve changed the names and places for obvious reasons. The beginning of the end happened when my wife and I drove, frantically, along NY-68 south from Canton in upstate New York, near the Canadian border, looking for Chrissy. We actually drove right past her, then Jenny called out and made m...

“Goodnight, Miss. Go safely, now.”   I closed the door behind me, leaving the warm fireplace and friendly chatter behind, and stepped out into the cool night air. It had been a wonderful evening. I had only moved into the village the week before, exactly six months after my divorce had been finalised. This had been my first visit to the Shipwreck Hotel, and the locals couldn't have been nicer. They treated me as though I...

They say that war is hell, it is. It’s a hell I unwittingly chose. I was fifteen at the time. I lived in a little known northern town in England. Not much happened in my town. The men went to work down the mines, the women stayed at home. It was all quite simple really; I could tell you all about it on a single page. Then the war came and everything changed. I watched as the men went off to war, my father included. They t...

My name is Leila. I'm a lesbian from Iran. I migrated to Britain a few years ago. I was a teacher in my country and the story that follows happened in the summer of 1986 when I was in my twenties. In order to make my story understandable for a foreign reader, I should explain the situation of those years. Shortly after the 1979 revolution, a theocratic dictatorship began which harshly oppressed the women in Iran. In 1980,...

December 1999… I awoke about a decade ago, and had continued my exploration of America. I, however, felt an irresistible pull to the south. Unable to fight it and unsure of what awaited me, I found myself in New Orleans. Can blood drain from the face of a vampire? It certainly felt like it. Standing inside the art gallery in New Orleans, I was shocked into immobility, unable to move a single muscle as electricity surged t...

Damn me, God! I hadn’t meant to kill him — or had I? After wandering the streets for God knows how long, the events continued to swirl inside my head as I struggled to settle upon one emotion. Since the unfortunate incident, I had been racked with hurt, rage, shame and guilt. An innocent tree bore the brunt of my frustration with its trunk stained red from my pounding, bloody fists. My body, of course, healed the wounds i...

I felt quite good to have ridden the city of a filthy vermin, yet I needed to see my sweet Elizabeth in order to feel more man than beast again. Only the touch of her creamy flesh would expunge the violent death from my hands. I was desperate to see her flawless face before me; it was the only thing that would help erase the sickening vision of the filth I had just eliminated. I need you, Elizabeth! I need you now… The ho...

The early 1800s... This time, I settled in Paris, adopting the French derivative of my name — Vincent. With its dense population, narrow streets, and dark crevices, Paris suited my needs perfectly, allowing one such as myself a myriad of places to lurk during these unsettled times. I had grown bored of occupying my time with philosophy and the arts of the Renaissance centuries before. And being what I was, proper affectio...

“Don’t wait up for me,” mom said, slamming the door behind her before she could finish her sentence, her voice muffled from the other side.I sighed and grabbed the bag of popcorn from the microwave, the corners hot on my fingers. Muttering under my breath, I tore open the bag and upended it into a bowl, a waft of popcorny, buttery steam hitting me in the face.The movie started as I sat down cross-legged on the old sofa, t...

30th of May – Season 2 When Angela Moodley had seen the sheer amount of people when she arrived, she was shocked. The streets were packed with people arriving for the event. While she'd seen crowds before at previous pay-per-views and even at the Fuel Speedway, this was different. These people could have easily numbered in the thousands. It took her almost an hour to find parking for her BMW Z4. Fortunately, she'd decided...

Central Manhattan late afternoon, two weeks out from Christmas, was no place for a frail old lady, one whose entire possessions barely half-filled the rusted shopping trolley she trundled before her on the sidewalk. Not immediately obvious to the occasional on-looker, but her wheeled companion served its purpose as much for support these days, as for its meager storage capacity. Cataracts had eroded Lucy’s vision to the p...