Kianna's Story Market

                                                                                 Photo by sankavi on Unsplash Mariena dragged herself through the door. Her face was drenched in sweat and her boots were caked in mud. However, her eyes gleamed, her gaze heavy with the weight of someone dangerous.  “Work at the office was pretty crazy today,” she said with a proud snicker that made Terri shiver as she rubbed her eyes in the darkness.   Terri kissed her on the cheek. Mariena nearly fell in Terri’s arms, but she quickly caught herself- or so she thought. Terri was no fool. She picked up the faint traces of gunpowder and blood. Terri bit her lip, holding back everything she wanted to say. She wanted to tell her how much she already knew what she was really doing when she stayed out late. She wanted to tell her how much she loved her anyways. Besides, Mariena was not the only one keeping secrets.  Something else followed her home that night. Every time Mariena stepped through the door, th

                                                             Photo by Vitaliy Shevchenko on Unsplash Sapphine did everything right. She pushed herself to make good grades in school, ran track, and worked from home as a business analyst. She had even gotten a promotion. She got married to a beautiful, black lawyer named Demi Graves. Her mother raised her right. Her father had always been a mystery, but she knew the truth. His demon blood coursed through her veins like a ghostly river. However, lately, a yearning stirred. She found herself needing more release than Demi could give. The life of a good person was constricting around her throat with all the morals and laws she had to follow. At first, Sapphine ignored this feeling. She did everything she could to drink it away, vacation it away, fuck it away. Nothing felt as good as when the demon hunters appeared at her front door step. Novice demon hunters pointed their guns and blades at Sapphine in her own house. Sapphine's smi

                                                              Photo by Mos Sukjaroenkraisri on Unsplash               I checked my phone. Battery was dead. I glanced at the pulsing burlesque club behind me. Just a few minutes ago, I was dancing in the dark, getting lost in the music and good vibes. Now, I trod down Hollywood Boulevard. I had no money for the bus. Friends ditched me. Worst of all, I didn’t know which way was home.  I was wrong. Worst of all was that it started raining. I pulled my pathetic jacket around me. My stomach dropped. Either I was going to have to sleep on the sidewalk with the rest of the homeless people or keep wandering until I found help. Anxiety crawled down my chest. Not another thing.  Then a dark car slipped by the curb. A man called out to me, “You look like you need a ride.”  More anxiety spiked through my system. Stranger-danger bells rang in my head. However, what other choice did I have? I shook my head. I shouldn’t do it. “Come on, I’ll take

                                                                           Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash                                                                Ketria Greene bombed the sale on bamboo carpet. She hated sales, but it was money, and so far she was doing well at it, until today. She was proud of herself, having become stable and sober for the past few years. For once, her future was starting to look bright.  Her supervisor unwrapped a mirror. Her eyes traced the golden scrolls and flowers adorning the polished, beveled frame. “Now doesn’t that lighten up the place?”  Ketria stepped beside Emerald, glancing into the mirror. A nauseous wave swelled within her stomach even though all she saw were her dark brown eyes staring. She rubbed the back of her neck, patting down the hairs there that stood on edge. “It certainly has a presence.”  Ketria closed the store alone that night. As she was sweeping, a skitter of whispers peppered her skin in goosebumps. She gla

                                                                                                              Photo by 🇸🇮 Janko Ferlič on Unsplash           Dominique Mack cut the grand opening ribbon like a doctor cutting an umbilical cord. His dark panel wooden baby stood behind a black iron bench- fat with cases of finely crafted jewels. His passion was furnaced out of playing with his mother’s mystical crystal collection and savoring the feel of the gems inside her earrings, her rings, and her bracelets. And now his passion married with years of hard work and savings helped him realize his dream.  Dominique’s husband, Earnell, kissed him on the cheek and left him to run the store. He couldn’t be more proud. Dominique worked on the final touches, making sure everything was perfect for the opening day. His eyes lingered on the sapphires; they were his favorite. And then, he waited. And waited. And waited.  The first few weeks of business had been depressingly slow. Earnell e

                                                                               Photo by Nathan Wright on Unsplash                Ranisha stood outside the dirty white apartment complex. Ranisha’s wife warned her not to bother with her mother; she argued that she shouldn’t be so quick to forgive, especially after everything Ranisha’s mother had put her through. It was a rational thought. It was Ranisha’s wife’s protective instincts.  However, her mother was ill, and the desire to see her mother festered from the inside of her stomach, crawling through every bit of her resolve to move on from the bad memories of growing up in this place. Maybe coming back would give her the closure she had always wanted since she cut her family out of her life. Maybe coming back would be sweeter than she imagined. Maybe her mother missed her all this time. Maybe things had changed.  Ranisha glanced at her car, but then she pushed herself to walk up the pathway to the stairs. She climbed the stairs. Whe

                                                                   Photo by Jon Butterworth on Unsplash                                                                         It was supposed to work. Diana's grip tightened around the flowers in her hands as she stood in the park where she and her fiancé were supposed to elope. The priest that was supposed to marry them patted her on the arm before even he too left her at the altar. She had done everything right. She was a devoted girlfriend of five years, never asked for much; she cooked, cleaned, and fucked her girlfriend whenever she wanted. The affairs had been the final straw- it sent her looking for her grandmother, a hoodoo witch on the outskirts of town. After much begging, she gave her a recipe- a binding spell, in which she used rosemary, salt, pepper, and a pinch of her own blood to season her girlfriend’s favorite weeknight enchilada meal. Everything had gone so well since then, but apparently, Diana was a fool to trus