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Theodore Homuth

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2025

Stories (7)

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5 Followers

3 Following

7 Stories

96 karma pts

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The 4:44 Alarm

Theodore Homuth

Submitted to Contest #323

The 4:44 Alarm (by Theodore Homuth) The first time it happened, Evan thought it was coincidence. 4:44 a.m. — red digits glaring in the dark like a wound. He rolled over, groggy, half-dreaming, and listened. The house held its breath around him. Wind tapped at the windowpane. Somewhere in the walls, old wood creaked. He checked the locks anyway. Front door — latched. Back door — latched. Garage — sealed. Windows — tight. He went back to bed, shivering at the absurdity of it. What kind of man wakes up before dawn just to touch cold ...

10 likes

Carnival Carney

Theodore Homuth

Submitted to Contest #319

The Midway Amusement Park in Willow Creek, Ohio, was a relic of better days, its rusted roller coasters and faded carnival tents glowing under LED lights that promised more than they delivered. It was 2027, and the world was drunk on tech—self-driving cars, neural implants, and whispers of AI that could think faster than God. But here, in this forgotten corner of America, the air still smelled of popcorn and desperation.Detective Mara Quinn leaned against a lamppost, the buzz of the crowd mingling with the screech of the Tilt-a-Whirl. She wa...

11 likes

The Quiet Apartment

Theodore Homuth

The Quiet Apartment By Theodore Homuth Mara pressed her ear against the wall again. It was 2:14 a.m., and the sound had returned—a soft, rhythmic thud-thud-thud, like a heartbeat buried in concrete. She had first noticed it a week ago, faint and irregular, pulsing through the paper-thin wall that separated her studio apartment from the vacant unit next door. Vacant, according to the landlord. Mara sat back, arms wrapped around her knees, breath shallow. She had lived alone in the city for six months, trying to start fresh after leaving her b...

0 likes

Carnival Carney

Theodore Homuth

Carnival Carney The Midway Amusement Park in Willow Creek, Ohio, was a relic of better days, its rusted roller coasters and faded carnival tents glowing under LED lights that promised more than they delivered. It was 2027, and the world was drunk on tech—self-driving cars, neural implants, and whispers of AI that could think faster than God. But here, in this forgotten corner of America, the air still smelled of popcorn and desperation.Detective Mara Quinn leaned against a lamppost, the buzz of the crowd mingling with the screech...

0 likes

The Archivist

Theodore Homuth

Submitted to Contest #307

Elenora Laughley first stumbled upon the Archives through a flippant remark, a half-whispered jest between two professors clinking glasses at the Wex Lit College holiday party. The air was thick with mulled wine and academic posturing, and Nora, a second-year grad student, hovered on the fringes, her glass of cheap Merlot untouched. She studied 19th-century political literature, her focus on censored tracts—texts deemed too incendiary to survive their era. It was niche, obsessive work, and it suited her. No one had ever connected her researc...

5 likes

The Breach

Theodore Homuth

Submitted to Contest #306

The Breach Entry #1: June 1, 2025 Location: Somewhere in the Nevada Desert The sky bled red tonight, like God Himself had torn open a vein. I'm crouched in the ruins of an old gas station, the air thick with dust and something......heavier. Evil, maybe. My hands are still shaking from the fight. There were three of them – those shadow-things with eyes like oil slicks – came for me at dusk. I drove my blade through one, whispered the old words, and it screamed like a soul being ripped asunder. The other two fled. For now. I am not crazy. I...

10 likes

The Bench

Theodore Homuth

Submitted to Contest #305

The Bench Martin returned to the old wooden bench at the edge of Rosewood Garden, just as he had every morning since Margaret passed. It wasn't just a place to sit, it their place. They had discovered in their twenties, newlyweds with more love than money. The first time they stumbled upon it, the bench was half-hidden beneath a canopy of golden maple leaves. Margaret called it their “thinking spot”. Over the decades, it became their private tradition: anniversaries, birthday, even quiet Tuesday nights if life was wei...

5 likes