Horror
Stitch:The Anatomy of a Traitor
The heat didn't just radiate from the desert floor; it pressed into the hollows of Foxgrave’s collarbone like molten lead. The sky above the valley was a bleached, featureless white, turning the jagged ridges of the dry creek bed into razor-sharp silhouettes. Air this dry didn't let you breathe; it scraped the back of your throat until every inhale tasted like copper and dust.
By Syl De'Vil2 minutes ago in Chapters
Stitch: The Lore of Sara Foxgrave
The absolute shock of the kiss broke the second Bane pulled his lips back a fraction of an inch, his heavy breaths fanning hot across her skin. For a split second, the electric buzz paralyzing Sara’s nervous system cleared, leaving behind a pure, panicked surge of adrenaline. Her brain was still screaming that he was a ghost, a hallucination, a threat to her sanity—and her body did exactly what her military training had drilled into her bones.
By Syl De'Vilabout 16 hours ago in Chapters
Stitch: The Lore of Sara Foxgrave
The gray autumn chill settled deep into the Foxgrave woods, turning the leaves to brittle rust and giving Sara a perfect excuse to stay out of the lake water. She did not have time to think about Bane anyway. Halloween was a week away, and around her place, October 31st was treated with the kind of frantic, obsessive reverence most people saved for Christmas.
By Syl De'Vilabout 20 hours ago in Chapters
Daddy's Home Part 3
Carl thanked his partner for a great shift and started on his way to the locker room. He kept replaying his last interaction with Daniel. He hated how he treated him and how emotional he had been since his sister’s death. She and her family were all he had left. No parents, no romantic partner, no children. Just him and his work. The idea of driving off the only person connecting him to his sister was eating at him. It had been a week since he had last seen Daniel. He was starting to talk himself into reaching out to Daniel.
By Christopher Shavers13 days ago in Chapters
Stitch: The lore of Sara Foxgrave
The morning sun fought its way through the grime-streaked window, but it offered no warmth to the small bedroom. For Sara, mornings were never a gentle transition from sleep to wakefulness; they were a battleground of orientation. She blinked heavily, her eyelids feeling like sandpaper against her eyes. Every single day began with the same disorienting fog , a heavy shroud of uncertainty that made her question the very reality of her surroundings. She rubbed her eyes aggressively, trying to clear the static from her vision, and forced herself to look around the room. She looked once, then blinked, and looked a second time. It was a mandatory ritual. She had to verify the geometry of the walls, the placement of the door, and the specific tilt of the ceiling before she could trust that she was exactly where she thought she was.
By Syl De'Vil15 days ago in Chapters
The Graveyard Hotel
The feast stayed with me long after I had finished my last bite and the last soul had departed. The salmon fillet. The brownie, rich and indulgent. It was a meal I could only dream of having. As though they had known precisely what I desired. Just like my room and the dress I wore. This had to be the strange series of coincidences because how was this all possible? Here barely a full day, I was still a stranger to the hotel.
By Jasmine Aguilar15 days ago in Chapters
