Fan Fiction
The Mirror Room
The locals called it Marrow House. Tucked deep in the pine forests on the edge of town, the Victorian mansion had long been abandoned. Children dared each other to run up to its rusted gates. Teenagers used it as a backdrop for ghost stories.
By Muhammad Hamza Safiabout a year ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Hidden Past
Clara Bennett was the walking definition of “average high school student”—not a queen bee, not a total outcast, but wobbling somewhere in that weird middle lane. She tiptoed her way through Ridgewood High, half-glued to her grades, half-terrified of accidentally bumping into someone popular. Honestly? The highlight of her week was splitting fries with friends at that run-down café after class. But deep down, she wanted more. Not just “new nail polish” more, but the kind of “risk your neck, change your story” more.
By Cotheeka Srijonabout a year ago in Fiction
The Echoes of Time
Martin Wells’ study looked like a bomb went off. Stacks of old physics journals and coffee-stained blueprints tumbled around him, all bathed in the sort of weak lamplight that makes everything feel faintly haunted. He sat there, jittery as hell, about to flip on his time machine. Imagine that: a lifetime tinkering with equations, chasing the wildest idea—then suddenly you’re sittin’ right on the edge of it. Just another Tuesday? Not even close.
By Cotheeka Srijonabout a year ago in Fiction
Lessons in Love
The bell rang with its usual sharpness, signaling the start of yet another class. The classroom buzzed with chatter, notebooks flipping open, chairs scraping back into place. On the third bench near the window, Aarav adjusted his glasses and silently took out his economics textbook. He was always early—always prepared. He liked the order of things. But today, as the sun angled through the dusty panes and cast golden patches on the desks, something in the air felt different.
By Taslim Ullahabout a year ago in Fiction
The Quest for Eldoria
Right smack in the thickest tangle of the Wildwood—seriously, the kind of place where the trees don’t just stand, they stare you down—there was this wolf, Kael. Dude rocked a coat blacker than a taxicab in midnight Manhattan, and those eyes? All amber and mysterious, picking up the weirdest glints from the strangest shadows. Most wolves stick with their squad, all cuddled up, chasing rabbits, whatever. Not Kael. Nah, legends chased him harder than he chased dinner. One legend—the shiniest, juiciest one—kept gnawing at his head: Eldoria. The lost city of gold. Basically, mythic bling hidden under some mountain, if you believe the bar talk.
By Cotheeka Srijonabout a year ago in Fiction
