Fiction
Uncontainable
As modernity emerged, rich families might be funding new neighborhoods outside the old city walls of Jerusalem with paper money from far away lands, but inside, in the twisted alleys where ways of knowing pressed against each other like old neighbors sharing walls, people traded their pasts.
By Jacob Isaac Abrahamabout a year ago in Chapters
Businesswoman Chapter 261
Socialista didn’t wear a band on her arm or don a special symbol. Instead, she dressed in a white t-shirt, blue jeans and black boots. By gathering all of her materials, markers, posters, staple guns, pens, short essays, and gas masks, she pointed at the door and made a swishing sound with her mouth. When she left, Common Man and Fascinder had been asleep.
By Skyler Saundersabout a year ago in Chapters
When The Wolf Spoke: Prologue. Content Warning.
Breaching the thin veil of the planet’s atmosphere, an organic starship pulsated with life. Its tendrils writhed as it ignited into a hot white glow, groaning, and screeching as if gripped by deep agony. Thick, wet mucus coated its outer layer—sizzled under the intense heat as it streaked downward like a comet to join all other array of colors raining against the dark night sky.
By Ghoulishtale Studiosabout a year ago in Chapters
Who's the real Monster. Content Warning.
Waking up I turned my head to see that neither Ed nor Matt were here. The door was already closed, it must be passed lights out. Slowly sitting up every muscle in my body protested against the action. All of me hurt. Noticing that both my clothes and bandages were covered in blood. Those two must've cleaned and covered my wounds while I was knocked out.
By Lucy Torralbaabout a year ago in Chapters
World War 3: The Day the World Stood Still
“What if World War 3 began tonight? This chilling scenario walks you through the first 48 hours — from cyberattacks and blackouts to nuclear warnings — and reveals how quickly the world could come to a standstill.
By Wings of Time about a year ago in Chapters
The Café of Second Chances
M Mehran Chapter One: The Rainy Evening Arman never liked rain. It made the city streets smell of damp concrete and regret. But that evening, caught without an umbrella, he ducked into a small café he had never noticed before. Its wooden sign read simply: Second Chances. Inside, the air was warm, filled with the aroma of cinnamon and coffee. Only a few tables were occupied, and behind the counter stood a woman with kind eyes. “First time here?” she asked. He nodded, dripping water onto the floor. “Then your first cup is on the house,” she smiled. --- Chapter Two: The Menu The menu wasn’t like any Arman had seen. Instead of drinks, it listed choices: The Call You Never Made. The Dream You Buried. The Love You Left Behind. He blinked. “What is this?” The woman leaned closer. “Every cup here comes with a memory you’ve forgotten—or a chance you didn’t take. You can drink one, but only one.” Arman laughed nervously, convinced it was a gimmick. Yet, something about the way the café hummed made him curious. --- Chapter Three: The Cup of Memory He chose The Dream You Buried. A steaming mug arrived, simple and unremarkable. But the moment he took a sip, his chest tightened. Suddenly, he was sixteen again, standing on a stage with a guitar, playing the song he wrote for a school competition. He remembered the applause, the spark in his chest, the certainty that music was his calling. Then the vision shifted—to his father’s stern words: Music won’t feed you. Be practical. And just like that, the guitar had been packed away forever. Arman set the cup down, his hands trembling. --- Chapter Four: The Conversation “You buried music,” the woman said gently. “Why?” “Because dreams don’t pay rent,” he muttered. She tilted her head. “Or maybe because you were too afraid to try.” The words hit him harder than he expected. He had built a life around safety—steady job, steady paycheck, steady loneliness. Music had been the only thing that ever made him feel alive. --- Chapter Five: The Decision The woman wiped down the counter. “The café doesn’t let you change the past, but it shows you what still lives inside you. The question is—what will you do with it now?” Arman glanced at the guitar case hanging on the café’s wall. It looked worn, but waiting. His heart ached in recognition. “Can I play it?” he asked. She smiled. “That’s what it’s there for.” --- Chapter Six: The Song His fingers were stiff, clumsy at first, but as he strummed, something unlocked. The melody was imperfect, but honest. The few customers in the café turned to listen, and one of them even clapped softly. Tears pricked his eyes. He hadn’t felt this alive in twenty years. When the song ended, the woman whispered, “Second chances don’t come from us. They come from you.” --- Chapter Seven: The Morning After The next morning, Arman woke up with sore fingers and a restless heart. He dug into his closet, pulling out the dusty guitar he hadn’t touched in decades. That evening, he recorded a short clip and uploaded it online. He expected nothing. But slowly, likes and comments trickled in. “This is beautiful.” “Do more.” “Where can I hear the full song?” For the first time in years, his routine cracked open. The café hadn’t just given him a drink. It had given him permission. --- Epilogue: The Ongoing Music Arman never found the café again. He searched for it on rainy evenings, wandering the streets, but the sign of Second Chances was nowhere. Maybe it had never been real. Or maybe it appeared only when someone was ready to stop surviving and start living. But every time Arman picked up his guitar, he tasted cinnamon in the air, and he knew the café hadn’t disappeared at all. It lived in every note he dared to play.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a year ago in Chapters
The Witches Redemption
The days blurred into one another as Vivian wandered beyond the edges of the forest, her strange companion never straying far from her side. At first, she had thought of it only as an odd creature that had chosen to follow her, but the longer it stayed, the more it felt like a guardian sent by some forgotten magic. Its paws were silent on the earth, its eyes sharp as if they saw what she could not, and when she grew weary, it pressed close as though lending her its strength.
By Lyrria Honeyabout a year ago in Chapters
Businesswoman Chapter 259
Though it had been low-tech, crude and outdated, the method of seeing a message written in ink that had to be shown by a light almost irked Loreen. She felt like she could continue to conduct business regardless. As she journeyed through the wind and rain with Raphael extending an umbrella to have her seat in the Goulding, she thought. She wore a tan houndstooth jacket and black and green duck boots.
By Skyler Saundersabout a year ago in Chapters
The Dream Collector
Dr. Sarah Umbra adjusted the delicate sensors embedded within the memory foam, her fingers tracing the nearly invisible network of neural receptors that had taken her team three years to perfect. The pillow looked ordinary enough—soft gray fabric, standard size—but beneath its surface lay technology that could capture the electromagnetic echoes of sleeping thoughts.
By Parsley Rose about a year ago in Chapters
