Fan Fiction

Love in the City of Dreams
Bombay's vibrant streets pulsed with energy, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that never slept. Amidst this chaos, two souls were about to collide.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Swirling vortex of Bombay monsoon
In the swirling vortex of Mumbai's monsoon season, Nicholas "Nick" D'Souza's world contracted to a single, rain-soaked street. The once-thriving financial district of Nariman Point now seemed a barren landscape, devoid of promise. Nick's coveted job offer from a prestigious investment firm had vanished, a casualty of the imploding economy.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Power of navigation
As she stepped off the train and onto the bustling streets of New York City, 25-year-old Sophia Patel felt invincible. Her freshly minted MBA from Columbia University gleamed on her resume, and a coveted job offer from a top financial firm awaited her. The world was hers for the taking.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
The Unseen Thread
The sun had barely risen over the small town of Oakdale, Illinois, when the devastating call came. Twenty-two-year-old Amir's world crumbled as he listened to the panicked voice on the other end. His father, a devoted husband and loving parent, had been killed in a tragic accident at the local steel mill.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
A Mother's Gift of Life
Rukmini's days blended together in a haze of exhaustion. Weighing 90 kilograms, her 5'4" frame struggled to keep up with the demands of her 9-to-5 job and caring for her 25-year-old son, Rohan. His chronic kidney disease had progressed, and the doctor's words echoed in her mind: "Rukmini, Rohan needs a kidney transplant. And you're the best match."
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Strange caller
The Midnight Caller In the quiet town of Millfield, nestled between rolling hills, the nights were typically peaceful—until the midnight caller disrupted the tranquility. It began as a low, eerie sound echoing through the streets, like a whisper teasing the edge of sleep. At first, it was dismissed as imagination, but soon, everyone heard it.
By FRANCIS IKEGBUNAM2 years ago in Fiction
Past Self
In a quiet, dimly lit basement cluttered with old electronics and notebooks, Olivia watched the digital clock tick toward 2 a.m. Her heart pounded with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. She had spent the last three years of her life perfecting this moment, tweaking equations, rewriting algorithms, and scrounging for spare parts. Tonight, the time machine was finally ready.
By MSK Writes2 years ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Date
In this world, you are born knowing the day you die. Marcus knew that he would die on October 14th, 2024. It was the day etched in his mind, and he knew it as deeply as he knew his name. It was as if there was an invisible string attached in his mind pulling him to this date. The certainty of it had shaped his life.
By Supreeth Nagella2 years ago in Fiction
THE QUEEN VANISH
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. It began at dawn when the sun stretched its golden fingers across the pale mist that clung to the surface of the water. It was as if the very earth had taken a breath—silent, still, and strange. The fishermen who stood at the river’s edge, mending their nets, stared in disbelief as the water reversed its course. The flow that had sustained their village for centuries, winding its way through the valley, now retreated into the hills from which it had come.
By mitchel marc2 years ago in Fiction
"The Silent Guardian". AI-Generated.
An uncommon trait for someone who had witnessed as much action as Captain Aarav was his calm manner. He had served on several missions in both deep jungles and mountainous areas, and each time he returned, he did it with the same calm determination. He would put himself in the line of fire without hesitation and was a guy of few words but unending determination.
By Ateet Maurya2 years ago in Fiction
Gold Digger
You chase the glint, the shimmer, the shine, A promise of riches you claim as mine. Eyes fixed on treasures, hearts set on gold, But warmth or love? That story’s old. Every step closer, a glimmered intent, Eyes like jewels, but hollow, spent. Laughter crafted, a sweet disguise, In the vaults of wealth, your spirit lies. Soft words drip like honey’s lure, But love’s not something you’d endure. A throne of wealth, a crown of gems, Your loyalty shifts as fortune bends. Yet beyond the gold and glittered dream, There’s a hollowness, a silent scream. Riches fade and diamonds fall, What’s left behind? Just empty halls. For hearts aren’t bought and souls aren’t sold, In endless quests for bars of gold. The sparkle fades, the shadows grow, Leaving nothing but a cold, hollow glow. Seek all you want, the riches gleam, But love can't be forced to fit your scheme. One day, perhaps, you'll see the cost Of love’s pure light, forever lost. In endless grasp for golden days, The heart you once had slips away.
By zulfi bux2 years ago in Fiction
House Of Horror
The town of Elmswood held a mystery, and at its center stood an old mansion known as the "House of Horror." No one could remember when it had been built, or who the original owners were. All they knew was that anyone who dared to enter never returned the same—or at all. It was late October, and the air had a bitter chill that seemed to deepen around the mansion. Locals warned that it was cursed, haunted by restless spirits who had never found peace. But three friends—Ethan, Laura, and Max—had heard the stories their whole lives and couldn’t resist the pull of a thrilling Halloween dare. Their curiosity overcame any warnings as they set out to explore the place that had haunted their childhood nightmares. The mansion loomed as they approached, its dark windows staring back like hollow eyes, and the crumbling bricks whispered of years of abandonment. Vines coiled around the walls like tentacles, as though the house itself were alive. A single, broken lantern flickered at the entrance, casting strange shadows on the cobblestone path. Ethan, the bravest of the three, led them inside, armed with only a flashlight and his phone. The door groaned as it opened, releasing a stale, earthy smell that filled their lungs and made their skin crawl. Inside, the mansion seemed even darker. The walls were lined with faded portraits, each face frozen in an expression of terror or grief. Dust coated every surface, and their footsteps echoed in the emptiness. Max trailed behind, his nerves clearly getting the best of him. “This place feels wrong,” he whispered, as if the house itself were listening. Laura shrugged it off, hiding her own fear behind a laugh. “It’s just an old house. Don’t be such a baby, Max.” They ventured deeper into the mansion, passing through a grand hallway adorned with cracked mirrors and tapestries that had long since lost their color. Their voices seemed swallowed by the silence, and each step felt heavier, as if the house were resisting their presence. Then, they heard it—a faint whisper, barely audible, drifting down the hall. “Did you hear that?” Ethan asked, his voice shaking slightly. They paused, holding their breath, listening. The whisper grew louder, sounding like a woman sobbing. It echoed through the empty halls, weaving around them, making the hairs on their arms stand on end. Laura tried to stay calm, brushing it off. “Probably just the wind,” she muttered, though she knew it was far too real to be ignored. She clutched Ethan’s arm, her fingers digging in harder than she intended. As they moved further, they reached a staircase winding up to the second floor. Shadows seemed to cling to each step, moving unnaturally as their flashlight passed over them. When they finally reached the top, they found a door slightly ajar, revealing a faint, flickering light within. With a mixture of dread and excitement, they pushed it open. Inside was a bedroom frozen in time, as if waiting for someone to return. A child’s toys lay scattered across the floor, covered in dust, and an ornate crib stood against the wall. The walls were painted with cheerful scenes, contrasting sharply with the eerie silence that hung heavy in the room. Ethan picked up one of the toys, a small wooden horse, and as he did, a sudden chill enveloped the room. The air thickened, and they felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow. Max backed up, his face pale. “We need to leave. Now.” But the door slammed shut, trapping them inside. The light flickered out, plunging them into darkness, and the sobbing voice returned, louder this time, filling the room with its agonizing despair. They tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Panic set in as they beat against it, their screams swallowed by the house. Just as they felt all hope slipping away, Laura noticed something—an old, tattered journal on a dusty shelf. She grabbed it and flipped it open, scanning the pages. The journal told the story of a young mother who had once lived in the mansion, whose child had died mysteriously. Wracked with grief, she’d lost her mind and was said to haunt the house, searching for her lost baby. Laura clutched the journal to her chest, and a calm fell over her. She spoke into the darkness, telling the spirit she was sorry for her loss, that her child was at peace. The sobbing stopped, and the cold faded. The door creaked open. They fled the mansion, their hearts racing. Outside, they felt the warmth of the autumn air again. Behind them, the House of Horror stood silent, as if satisfied that its story had finally been heard. And as they left, they felt the weight of something dark lift, knowing they had helped a tortured soul find rest.
By zulfi bux2 years ago in Fiction