Fan Fiction
The Thing Behind the Window
It started on a rainy Tuesday night. I was up late studying for my history test, trying not to fall asleep at my desk. Everyone else in the house had gone to bed. The only sound was the soft ticking of the wall clock and the occasional rumble of thunder outside.
By NoExitStories about a year ago in Fiction
Phantom Sky: The Ghost in the F-16
Chapter One: The Silent Bird Captain Aidan Voss had logged over 2,000 flight hours in the F-16 Fighting Falcon. He was sharp, calculated, and trusted — the kind of pilot who didn’t flinch under pressure. But even he couldn’t explain what happened on November 3rd, over the Himalayas.
By Muhammad Sohailabout a year ago in Fiction
Major Mohammad Zaki: Valor Beyond Borders
The winter of 1941 blanketed the hills of Rawalpindi in silence. The barracks were quiet, but within them stood a man whose mind was far from calm — Major Mohammad Zaki, a proud officer of the British Indian Army, a decorated soldier, and a man at war with his own conscience.
By Muhammad Sohailabout a year ago in Fiction
The Day My Refrigerator Tried to Kill Me
Let me start by saying I did not expect to be attacked by my own fridge on a Tuesday. Tuesdays are supposed to be boring. Middle-of-the-road, halfway-to-the-weekend, emotionally beige. But that was before I downloaded a “smart kitchen” app called FridgeFriend+.
By Ashikur Rahman Bipulabout a year ago in Fiction
She Loved Me, Then Set Me Up
She Loved Me, Then Set Me Up By Bangarick ⸻ I met Mya on a rainy Friday night outside a hookah lounge on Capitol Drive. She was leaning against a car, red lips, black jacket, looking like danger wrapped in beauty. We talked. She laughed at my sarcasm. Said she liked “quiet hustlers.” I played it cool, but something about her made me drop my guard fast.
By Rick Brownabout a year ago in Fiction
Echoes in the Mirror
Aryan always got this creepy feeling whenever he looked in a mirror, not because he was superstitious or anything. It was more like his reflection was staring back just a little too long, you know? He wasn’t into ghosts or spirits or any of that stuff. But seriously, every time he caught his own reflection, something felt off. It was like the mirror knew something about him that he didn’t even get. Growing up in a small town, life was pretty normal for Aryan. But when he moved to Mumbai for his freelance video editing gig, things just felt… different. The crazy busy streets, the packed markets, the bright lights – it was all just too much. The apartment he rented wasn’t much to look at, but it was his own space. Cheap, old, but it worked. The landlord was a weird dude – super quiet, pale, and he never said anything about the apartment’s history. All he’d say was, "Someone left suddenly." Aryan didn’t push it. The apartment was in a perfect spot for his work, and that’s all that mattered to him. But that mirror – man, that damn mirror was a problem from the second he walked in. It was huge, like floor-to-ceiling, taking up most of one wall in the bedroom. And it wasn’t just any mirror – it was way too clear. It almost felt like it was alive, like it was a window to some world Aryan didn’t belong in. The first night, Aryan threw a sheet over it. He hated how it just stared back at him, reflecting not just his face, but this strange emptiness that made him feel uneasy. He crashed with the sheet still there, thinking he’d forget all about it. But every morning, the sheet was gone, just lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. He told himself it was the draft – just an old building thing. But the more it happened, the more it freaked him out. Days went by. Little things started to change. He first noticed it one morning while brushing his teeth in front of the mirror. His reflection copied him, like it should. Right hand up to brush. Reflection did the same. But then, this weird thing happened.
By THOUGHT LIKE A PROabout a year ago in Fiction
WHY?
Why do I still crave your love? Why do I still care if you're okay? Why do I still long to hear your voice, even after all the pain you caused me? You hurt me deeply—you betrayed me over and over again like I was never enough. You left me searching for reasons, while you went searching for love somewhere else. But deep down… you knew that wasn’t love. What I gave you was real. It was pure. It was unconditional.
By Leesyanna Peart about a year ago in Fiction
Exploring the World’s Most Used App
In the current highly connected world, mobile apps are essential to daily life. From messaging to leisure, purchasing to finance, there's an application for almost everything. However, among the countless options out there, one app consistently stands out in terms of global usage: WhatsApp.
By Rahat Quorieshi about a year ago in Fiction
The Shimmering Mirage: Utopia as a Dream within a Dream
The heart of a man, always yearning for hopes and their fulfillment, has always cherished dreams of a utopia for a long time. Painted with flawless governance, boundless prosperity and harmonious existence, these utopias are the epitome of human existence all a utopian realm, a beacon of hope and but an unspoken fear that serve as a critique of a fragmented reality. Yet, the more we examine these shining ideals, the more they begin to seem like a dream – a beautiful, complex creation of a mind. And perhaps, even more than that Elusively, the notion of a universally perfect world is a dream within that initial dream, a layer of abstraction that takes us further away from its tangible realization.
By umar khalidabout a year ago in Fiction
