Historical Fiction
The Rating Game
Everyone had a score. Your friendliness, your politeness, your tone — everything was rated instantly by others through their contact lenses. The average was displayed above your head in soft glowing numbers. The higher your score, the better your life.
By GoldenSpeechabout a year ago in Chapters
Kia Ford: The Hammer Girl's English Premiere Production
With darkness invading the scene, encouraging shorter daylight hours, unpacking, settling into a long winter break, the Peacock concluded an international holiday, researching underground mountain climbing expeditions.
By Marc OBrienabout a year ago in Chapters
What Makes Yul’s Spanish Tragedy a Landmark in Modern Historical Fiction
Each age provides us with a handful of novels that not only recount a tale, they redefine the way we feel history. They span the impossible distance between past and present, making old dust live and breathe. Jules Wright's Yul's Spanish Tragedy is one such remarkable work.
By Edward Molneabout a year ago in Chapters
Kia Ford: The Hammer Girl's English Premiere Production
Weekend commenced and the Peacock called it quits, concluding the bubble machine power struggle, diagnosing the situation, broken beyond repair. Deciding to pull the plug, ending the GP stimulating electricity goal getting energy source, proclaiming changes were already underway. Heading over towards the living room, the promotional fowl collapsed, couch breaking the fall, providing sweet home comfort.
By Marc OBrienabout a year ago in Chapters
David Crockett, Scout AUDIO BOOK CHAPTER 1–5
David “Davy” Crockett (1786–1836) is one of the most famous folk heroes in American history. Often remembered by the nickname “King of the Wild Frontier,” Crockett’s life combined fact and legend. He was a skilled scout, soldier, and frontiersman whose adventurous spirit captured the imagination of his contemporaries and later generations. From his early life on the Tennessee frontier to his dramatic death at the Alamo, Crockett became a symbol of rugged independence and American courage.
By History Seekerabout a year ago in Chapters
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
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
The Bridge at Midnight
M Mehran Chapter One: The Crossing Sami had always taken the long way home. Not because he liked it, but because it let him avoid the old bridge at the edge of town. Locals called it cursed—too many accidents, too many stories whispered in the dark. But one night, pressed for time and weighed down by thoughts he couldn’t escape, he chose the shortcut. The moon hung low, the air heavy, and the bridge stretched before him like a dare. --- Chapter Two: The Stranger Halfway across, Sami noticed someone standing by the railing. A man in a dark coat, still as stone, staring into the water below. “Are you okay?” Sami asked cautiously. The man turned, his face tired but kind. “Funny question,” he replied. “Most people don’t stop to ask. They just walk faster.” Sami shifted uneasily. “It’s late. Dangerous to stand here.” The man smiled faintly. “Dangerous places reveal honest conversations.” --- Chapter Three: The Burden They leaned against the railing, silence stretching. Finally, the man spoke. “What are you carrying?” Sami frowned. “What do you mean?” “Everyone who walks this bridge carries something heavy. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here at midnight.” Sami wanted to deny it, but the truth pressed too hard. His failed business, his fractured friendships, the feeling that he had run out of chances—all of it clung to him like chains. “I’m… tired,” Sami admitted. “Tired of starting over, tired of pretending I’m fine.” The man nodded knowingly, as if he’d heard the same confession countless times. --- Chapter Four: The Story of the Bridge The man gestured to the wooden planks beneath them. “This bridge isn’t cursed. It’s a place where people decide. Some choose to keep carrying their burdens. Others… let them go.” Sami’s chest tightened. “Let them go how?” The man tapped his chest. “Not by jumping. By choosing. By saying, This is not the end of me.” --- Chapter Five: The Question The wind picked up, rattling the beams. The man’s eyes held Sami’s like a mirror. “Do you want to cross this bridge,” he asked, “or stay stuck halfway for the rest of your life?” The question sliced through him. Sami realized he had been living in halves—half-dreams, half-tries, half-courage. Always pausing, never arriving. He swallowed hard. “I want to cross.” --- Chapter Six: The Step The man smiled, stepping back. “Then walk.” Sami’s legs felt heavy, but he moved forward. Each step sounded louder than the last, like the bridge itself was urging him on. By the time he reached the other side, the weight on his shoulders felt… lighter. Not gone, but bearable. When he turned to thank the man, the bridge was empty. --- Chapter Seven: The Morning The next morning, Sami woke with an unfamiliar clarity. His problems hadn’t vanished, but the fear of trying again had loosened its grip. He called an old friend he hadn’t spoken to in years. He reopened his laptop, sketching plans for a project he had abandoned. Small steps, fragile but real. The memory of the man’s words echoed: Not the end. Just a crossing. --- Epilogue: The Other Side Sami often walked past the bridge in daylight. It looked ordinary—just wood, nails, and ropes. Yet, every time he glanced at it, he felt gratitude. Because somewhere between one side and the other, he had decided not to give up. And that was the real magic of the bridge at midnight.
By Muhammad Mehranabout 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
Kia Ford: The Hammer Girl's English Premiere Production
Locking the gates, Crystal Royal Glazier, CRG for short, left the Palace confines boarding his golden eagle luxurious transportation to fly through the city. An agenda scheduled meeting slated with the west ham who was united instigated CRG’s valet treatment, whisking the affluent aristocrat away, destination English Premiere Estates.
By Marc OBrienabout a year ago in Chapters
