Fan Fiction

How to Survive the Night Shift Alone
Step 1: Enter the Building Quietly The night puts its shadow around you,--and it is silent and alert. Be careful when approaching the front door, taking every step. The old hinges' complaint evokes pity, and even the slightest creak echoes more loudly in the silence. Motion sensors are blinking slightly, and they are in synchronisation with your beat, and you wait until the rhythm gets steady. Feel the resistance of the lock by gently inserting the keycard, then use force only when necessary. Every moment of silence as well as every intentional movement is essential; a false step would trigger something intangible, hidden, and on the alert.
By ZUBAIR11 months ago in Fiction
The Mirror That Refused to Forget 🪞
The mirror hung in the hallway between the bedroom and the bathroom, framed in dark wood that had softened with age. Its surface was not cracked, not warped, but no longer perfectly clear. When light struck it just right, faint marks appeared — smudges that never fully disappeared, no matter how carefully it was cleaned.
By Zidane11 months ago in Fiction
NEON BLOOD EMPIRE
The night the city tried to kill her the sky was burning red and the alarms never stopped screaming and Nyx Virel stood in the middle of Sector Nine with blood on her hands not all of it hers watching a skyscraper collapse like a dying giant behind her while drones hunted her name through the air the city of Axiom Prime was not supposed to look afraid it was built to dominate to control to erase weakness but tonight it was trembling because Nyx had stolen something that was never meant to be touched the Core Seed a living quantum intelligence buried under the city for two hundred years and every gang every syndicate every artificial god connected to the grid wanted her dead Nyx did not run because she was scared she ran because standing still meant extinction and as she jumped across broken rails and burning streets memories flashed of the moment she met Kael Draven the man who taught her how to survive how to shoot without hesitation how to love without fear and how to trust in a world that punished trust the moment she landed hard on the steel bridge her comm crackled with his voice calm sharp alive telling her he was coming that he would get her out like he always did but this time the city itself had turned into a weapon and the gangs were not just criminals anymore they were armies enhanced by illegal cybernetic rituals feeding on fear and data and Nyx knew this was no longer a job gone wrong this was war and she was at the center of it whether she wanted to be or not
By Diab the story maker 11 months ago in Fiction
The Bicycle by the Creek 🚲
The bicycle lay on its side near the bend of the creek, half-hidden by tall grass and reeds that whispered whenever the wind passed through. Its paint had once been blue, bright enough to catch sunlight, but years had softened it into something closer to the color of the sky just before rain.
By Zidane11 months ago in Fiction
The Weight of Ordinary Days. AI-Generated.
Every morning at exactly seven-thirty, Imran unlocked the shop. Not earlier. Not later. The key turned with a soft resistance he had memorized years ago. The bell above the door rang once, then settled. He switched on the lights, straightened the counter, and placed the ledger in the same position it had occupied for as long as he could remember.
By Mehwish Jabeen11 months ago in Fiction
🎄 The Christmas Elevator That Refused to Be Normal 🎄
The elevator in the Hollyberry Heights apartment building had one job. Go up. Go down. Do not talk. And for eleven months of the year, it did that job beautifully.
By Zidane11 months ago in Fiction
The Falcon Who Left the Cliffs
There was once a young peregrine falcon who believed the elders spoke too often and listened too little. They told her stories of the cliffs where they nested—how those gray stone walls had stood for thousands of years, shaped by wind and sea, yet strong enough to carry generation after generation of falcons. They spoke with reverence, as if the cliffs themselves were living elders. But the young falcon felt only discomfort.
By Jhon smith11 months ago in Fiction
🌩️ Writing Stories That Breathe Inside a Storm
Introduction ✨ Storms are not just weather. In storytelling, they are pressure systems. They compress emotion, distort time, strip characters down to essentials, and force decisions that calm days allow people to avoid. A storm changes how characters move, think, speak, and remember. It disrupts routine and reveals truth.
By Karl Jackson11 months ago in Fiction
What the Quiet Keeps. AI-Generated.
The town grew quieter every winter, not suddenly, but the way a room changes when people stop talking one by one. Shops closed earlier. Streets emptied faster. Even the river seemed to move with less urgency, sliding beneath ice instead of rushing against its banks.
By Mehwish Jabeen11 months ago in Fiction
The Christmas Miracle of Maple Street 🎄
On Maple Street, Christmas did not arrive quietly. It arrived with a bang, a crash, and the unmistakable sound of Mr. Gerald Wickersham shouting,
By Zidane11 months ago in Fiction
Instructions for Assembly. AI-Generated.
1 Begin with a room that has no defining features. Do not describe the walls. Do not describe the light. Place a table at the center.
By Mehwish Jabeen11 months ago in Fiction
The Shape of What Stayed. AI-Generated.
I fell in love with Mara before I knew what she was. That part matters, because love has rules, and horror breaks them. We met in winter, which feels appropriate now. Winter hides things. It smooths edges. It convinces you that stillness is peace. She worked nights at the archives, a job that meant dust and silence and lamps that hummed like tired insects. I was researching a local legend—something about a house that never emptied, no matter how many people moved out of it.
By Mehwish Jabeen11 months ago in Fiction