Latest Stories
Most recently published stories on Vocal.
The Frequency of the Doomed
The loss of my career, my name, and my penthouse was a sequence of external tragedies, a series of demolitions I could at least understand through the lens of cause and effect. But they were nothing compared to the loss of my silence.
By Nathan McAllister25 days ago in Futurism
The Sourdough Secret: A Trad Wife Horror Story of Domestic Survival
I traded my corporate tech career for a farmhouse, a floral apron, and a vintage starter kit. But the "Mother" in my kitchen isn't just fermented flour—it’s hungry, and it wants more than water.
By The Glitch Archive25 days ago in Horror
Sparrow on a Plank Chapter 21: The Day Before the Morning After
Lord Ashigaru was amused. As he ate a leg of pork, he was reminded of the last operative that had given him news that was inaccurate. He knew that the item wasn't near some cannibal tribe; the last cannibal tribe on Jezreel had been “forcibly retired” almost a century ago; cannibals just don't work well with civilized society. The operative had been forced to help in the kitchen as punishment; Bubastos wasn't necessarily that civilized. The leg was delicious with a little brown gravy.
By Jamais Jochim25 days ago in Chapters
The amazing small business
I think with everything that is going on in our world at the moment, so many businesses deserve the right to their few hours of fame. However, let’s spare a thought for the corner shops just like in the war they were there helping families try to get as near a normal life as possible.
By George’s Girl 2026 25 days ago in Fiction
The Social Execution. Content Warning.
I woke up six months later in a sterile room that smelled of bleach and lost hope. Consciousness didn't return all at once; it arrived in agonizing increments, a slow-motion reconstruction of a man who had been shattered into a million jagged pieces. For weeks, the world was nothing but the rhythmic hiss of a ventilator and the fluorescent hum of a ceiling I hadn't designed. When I finally found the strength to open my eyes, I didn't recognize the landscape of my own body.
By Nathan McAllister25 days ago in Futurism
Why The Future Wasn't Always Yours
The Beginning of The Future Or, actually, nine months later, give or take a few days. You’re going to be as soon as old mom and dad, or mom and that guy she got drunk with and hooked up in the men’s room at a concert with, finished the deed on that magic day. That’s the perfect day in mom’s schedule of biological movements during the monthly clock. It’s the day when an egg is primed and in the right place to receive and she was to meet the guy that would fertilize her egg. After that, it’s all magic.
By Jason Morton25 days ago in Journal
