Jzt Stories

Late at night, exhausted from work, Ben began to drive home. A few minutes from his workplace, he saw a familiar figure trembling on the sidewalk. He instinctively stopped next to him, and the man got inside. Three minutes after picking up the man, Ben asked, “Are you here for me?” The man replied, “Not quite yet. You don’t need to ask that every time. You’ll know when it’s your turn.” Just before the roundabout, the stranger  signaled for Ben to stop the car. He pointed at a group of people and said, “This time, I came for them.” After the man got out, Ben drove to a safe distance and looked back. Out of nowhere, a truck drove directly at the group and killed them on the spot. He sighed and drove away

The Eirēn sisters lived at the very edge of the village, where the narrow dirt path wound down toward the rocky shore and the sea breeze was strong enough to lift the laundry right off its lines. Their home was small, a whitewashed cottage with a faded blue door and windows that always smelled faintly of salt. From their back steps you could see the ocean spread endlessly, its surface glinting silver at dawn and gold at sunset. They were said to be among the most beautiful women on the island—not the kind of beauty that made men stop and gawk in the market square, but the kind that drew people in and held them. Their eyes were the deep, shifting blue of the tide; their skin, browned from years under the sun, seemed to carry the glow of morning light. Their beauty, however, was not their only defining trait. Orphaned at a young age, the sisters had learned to fend for themselves in a place where survival was never guaranteed. In a fishing village like theirs, you either took to the wate...

A hiker decided to go on a hike by himself. Something he was not very used to. The whole day was normal. Trees and bushes engulfed his surroundings. He enjoyed being outdoors in the mountains. Nothing seemed strange to him, that was until he was making his way back to his car. He figured an eight hour hike was good enough. The sky was already getting dark and he needed to get back, fast. What was odd was how much he didn’t recognize the trail back. He began to panic. Night had already taken over and all he had was a flashlight and no clue on how to get back. He knew it was already too late and too dangerous to keep going through the perilous forest. He began to worry that he would have no shelter for the night when almost luckily enough, he stumbled across a broken-down cabin. It was dark, and seemed like no one had visited it in years, but he knew it was the only place where he could rest until daylight, especially since his flashlight was running out of battery. He knocked on the doo...

He puts on his gloves and protective gear once again to harvest the berries. The deadly nightshade plant is one of the most potent berries known to man, and that's why he's always careful whenever he's around it. 'An astonishing plant created by God himself to aid me on my mission,'  he said, continuing, 'I am an extension of God and with that, it's my duty to cleanse the earth of filth.' He had been doing it for 6 years, and tomorrow would be no different. He carefully squashed and harnessed the juice of the berries until he got a cup full. He went ahead and mixed it with the two bottles of wine. He sighed after a successful harvest. He bathed, had dinner, and said a prayer asking God to bless a humble priest as himself by bringing a lot of people to his church for tomorrow's communion service.

The school bus arrived at the train station, carrying 5 teachers and 20 eager students, all excited to experience the picturesque countryside by train. Each teacher was assigned 5 students to supervise throughout the trip. As the bus sped away, the group quickly made their way into the train car. The school had reserved an entire car for the students to prevent any potential mishaps. After a quick headcount confirmed that everyone was present, they set off on their adventure. Both teachers and students were captivated by the breathtaking views, rolling landscapes, and ranch animals like cattle, horses, and donkeys. Having grown up in the city, this was a rare and delightful experience for them. Armed with Polaroid cameras, they snapped photos of one another, ensuring that each student would have a lasting memory of the day. Several hours later, they returned to the train station, expecting the bus to be waiting for them. Instead, they were met by police officers and anxious parents and...

From morning to evening he reenact the same routine over and over again. His daily routine is very simple. Wake up, make breakfast for himself and his son, walk him to the front yard for the school bus ride and then tidy up the house. After which he set off to work. In the afternoon when he closes from work, he goes to pick up his son from school and they both walk home. They both wash their hands and afterwards he prepares something for his son to eat while his boy takes his bath. At night, he heats up one of the frozen foods in the fridge for both of them. It’s a one bedroom apartment so they both share the same bed and his son prefers sleeping next to him. “He still believes his son is alive and everything is fine. The new shock therapy may be able to snap him out of it if you only you approve of it” Said the psychiatrist to the man’s wife. “ No I want him in this state as punishment for what his mother did to my son “ The wife sobbed not because of her late son or the current of th...

The wind whipped through the desolate mountain pass, carrying with it the scent of pine and the distant cries of the wild. I was a phantom, a shadow, a specter haunting the dreams of the corrupt. They called me Judgment, a name that struck fear into the hearts of the officials who preyed upon the innocent. Disguised in the folds of my weathered robes, I moved with the grace of a panther, unseen and unheard. My blade, a serpent of steel, was ever at my side, ready to strike. I would emerge from the shadows, a specter in the night, and deliver swift and merciless justice. The officials, bloated with corruption, would tremble before me. Their silk robes, once symbols of their power, would soon be stained with their own blood. I would strip them of their ill-gotten gains, their gold and silver, and distribute it to the impoverished villages. I was more than a thief. I was a guardian, a protector of the weak. I would leave cryptic messages, warnings etched in the stone, foretelling their do...