Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It's a way of understanding it. ~ Lloyd Alexander

Here at Tell-Tale Press, we hope to entertain you with quality stories from talented writers around the world. Some stories may include graphic violence, erotica, or both. They have been indicated as such before the story begins. Thank you for joining us, and happy reading!

The Village by Matias F. Travieso-Diaz

That was the first I ever heard of shadowed Innsmouth. Any reference to a town not shown on  common map or listed in recent guidebooks would have interested me, and the agent’s odd manner of allusion roused something like real curiosity. A town able to inspire such dislike in it its neighbors, I thought, must be at least rather unusual, and worthy of a tourist’s attention. - H. P. Lovecraft, “The Shadow Over Innsmouth

Near the end of 1928 I decided to take a short vacation in a remote island off the coast of Africa. After three days of touring all over the island and seeing every point of interest, I set my aim at a small village I could see atop a tall hill across the bay.
The nasty remarks by the people at the resort in response to my inquiries surprised and egged me on. I was irritated by the way the townsfolk made fun of a tourist for asking about the village. “That pimple on the butt of the world?” “Why are you asking about it?” “It’s trash, just a bunch of lowlifes rutting in ho…

Siren's Song by Holley Cornetto

I. Zander
She touches the collar around her neck. A heavy thing of iron, with sharp metal fasteners. It is decorated with faux jewels to make it appear like a necklace. On it dangles a small box. If she makes a sound, the collar shocks her. Her voice, they say, is more beautiful than a breeze on a warm summer day, but it was stolen from her the day the collar was snapped around her neck. I was in the harpy’s cage the day they brought her in. Where the harpy was gray and gnarled, the siren was radiant with the beauty of youth. At first, I thought her jealous of the siren’s thick chestnut hair and large brown eyes because of her mutterings, “One bird lady wasn’t enough. They had to bring in another.”
It was strange that I’d attribute such a human emotion to the harpy. She was a pathetic creature, but I wouldn’t have called her human, not back then. But, she did feel. They all did, though I didn’t realize it until I saw the siren for the first time.
Now I understand it wasn’t jealousy that m…

Treasury of Historically Recorded Evidence And Data by Ashlea Adams

“Welcome to orientation, Orleana! My name is Eirene Horae, and I’m generally responsible for our new hires.” Eirene’s smile spread to fill her face like a bear stretching after hibernation. “Here at THREAD, we are all so pleased you are with us for the next chapter of your career.”
I fingered the corner of the inch-thick packet, realizing I was the only newbie.
“First, I’d like you to find your security bracelet inside your package.” Eirene’s lithe figure glided between the tables to approach me. I was sitting in the back, having taken the first seat I saw. With Charlie throwing a fit about getting dressed this morning, I was surprised I made it at all.
I managed to find my bracelet. It was some sort of woven fabric with a magnetic clasp. The fabric felt rubbery and yet as pliable as any other yarn I had felt before. A riot of colors swirled as I slipped it on. Then those colors spun until they settled on my first name and an acronym. Orleana DOR. It must have been some sort of new scree…