Fantasy
Cry in the Water Part 7
The three stood there breathing hard, the only light in the hall coming down from slit windows, filtering thorough the dust they had kicked up in the rush of feet, looking like long gently draped curtains whispering against the floor. Looking beyond, they could vaguely see the long shape of a table, and benches on either side. Above, fragments of old tapestry that lined the walls wavered gently on softly moving air, their tattered remains hanging by threads through the long years.
By Jamye Sharpabout a year ago in Fiction
Ditched and Cleaned
In the morning after the botched romantic night, while getting ready to go to work, Brad said to Emily, “Babe, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I should have told you about the allergy. I just thought that since it’s so rare and I never buy anything with rosehip I didn’t really need to.”
By Lana V Lynxabout a year ago in Fiction
Some Rooms Are Best Forgotten
In 1989 on the Kola Peninsula of Russia. at the Kola Superdeep Borehole a drill operated by human beings descended to a depth (40, 230 feet, approximately 7.6 miles) that had never been reached before and has not been returned to since. The humans operating the drill did not go to the bottom, the extreme heat 180°C (356°F) made that impossible. In fact, no human being has ever descended underground beyond approximately 2.5 miles. However, some equipment, including a heat hardened video camera containing a 90 minute VHS tape was lowered to the final depth. Reportedly it captured images of rock behaving something like plastic, oozing, twisting, convulsing and turning in and over on itself like the inside of a can of paint when mixed with a drill mixer. The VHS tape containing this purported footage mysteriously disappeared shortly after it was returned to the surface and only the verbal accounts of the two men who watched it survived. Those two men Sergi and Ivan Ivanov, Soviet engineers and brothers were found dead in 1992, apparently of suicide. A handwritten note was found with the bodies which contained a detailed description of the exact method that would be used. Sergi was to shoot Ivan in the head first. Then he was to gather up the various bits and pieces of his brother's skull and brain and bury them, but not his body, in an unmarked grave behind their home. Once that was complete he was to hang himself from the rafters. The police discovered them dead about a month later when their neighbors called authorities complaining of a terrible smell emanating from the Ivanov home.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Fiction
You cannot teach a man anything, you can only help him discover it in himself. Galileo
Warning: Information compiled herein is a fictional work of imagination, based on selected historical and scientific facts that may have merit but are not necessarily reflective of any Druidic or religious practises.
By Katherine D. Grahamabout a year ago in Fiction
Taking a Moment for Peace
Taking a Moment for Peace The world feels louder than ever. Every time we turn on the television, scroll through our phones, or tune into the radio, we are met with a flood of headlines. Some tell stories of hope and progress, but far too many speak of riots, shootings, war, political conflict, natural disasters, and countless forms of unrest. It often feels like humanity is stuck in an endless cycle of crisis after crisis, and it can become overwhelming for the soul.
By Wings of Time about a year ago in Fiction
In This Memory
That we lived in the house so long after what happened is something I'll never understand. We sealed up her room but the house itself was an altar to her presence. You couldn't walk over a creaky floorboard or see a line on a wall from one of her markers that didn't flood your mind with memories so vivid and strong it felt like a stroke. God, did we miss her.
By Wings of Time about a year ago in Fiction
The Kingdom of Shattered Glass
Chapter One: The Broken Crown The Kingdom of Miraval was unlike any other. Its palaces rose like crystal spires, its streets gleamed with mirrored stone, and its rivers shimmered as though woven with light itself. Long ago, it had been called the Jewel of the World. But beauty was only an illusion. For beneath its glittering surface, Miraval was fractured. Every wall, every road, every palace window was made of enchanted glass—glass that whispered lies, glass that reflected not what was, but what one most desired to see. The kingdom had once thrived under Queen Serenya, a ruler of wisdom and compassion. But after her assassination, her brother, King Veylor, seized the throne. Veylor ruled not with justice but with mirrors—turning the magic of glass into chains. Through enchanted panes, he spied on his people. Through mirrored illusions, he fed them false hope. And through the shattered crown upon his head—its jewels replaced by shards of glass—he spread fear. They called it The Kingdom of Shattered Glass. And in its shadows, rebellion stirred. --- Chapter Two: The Girl Without a Reflection Elira had grown up in the slums of Miraval, where broken glass littered the alleys like stars fallen from heaven. She was different from the others—not because of her poverty, but because she had no reflection. While every citizen of Miraval was bound to glass, seeing in it their greatest desires or deepest lies, Elira saw nothing. Mirrors showed her emptiness. Windows returned only darkness. She was feared. Avoided. Called the Hollow Girl. But Elira carried a secret of her own. The absence of reflection gave her immunity to Veylor’s illusions. She could see truth where others saw lies. She could walk through the palace’s mirrored halls without being deceived. And that made her dangerous. One night, as the moon’s fractured glow filtered through cracked rooftops, Elira was approached by a man cloaked in shadow. “You don’t know me,” he whispered, “but I know what you are. My name is Kaelen. I lead the Glassborn—the rebellion against the king. And we need you.” Elira’s heart pounded. She had spent her life hiding, surviving. But something in Kaelen’s eyes—a fire unbroken by glass—ignited her own. “What do you want from me?” she asked. Kaelen’s voice was steady. “To shatter the crown.” --- Chapter Three: The Palace of Lies The palace loomed like a cathedral of crystal, its spires cutting the sky into shards. Inside, the halls twisted with illusions. Servants bowed to reflections that weren’t real, nobles chased dreams that vanished with a blink. Every step was treacherous. Elira entered disguised as a servant, guided by Kaelen and the Glassborn. Her task was clear: reach the Hall of Shards, where the crown was kept, and destroy it. But the palace was alive. Its walls whispered to her, promising safety, wealth, love. She ignored them, her hollow reflection shielding her from the pull. In the grand hall, King Veylor sat upon his throne of fractured mirrors. His crown glimmered, shards of glass embedded in gold. His voice carried like the breaking of crystal. “My loyal subjects,” he declared to an assembly of illusions, “the kingdom prospers!” Elira saw the truth: starving peasants outside the palace gates, soldiers bleeding in pointless wars. Her fists clenched. That night, she slipped deeper into the palace, toward the Hall of Shards. But she was not alone. --- Chapter Four: The Mirror Prince He stepped out from the shadows, a boy of her age, clad in silver. His eyes were glass, his movements sharp as broken edges. “I am Dorian,” he said. “Son of Veylor.” Elira froze, dagger in hand. “I know why you’re here,” Dorian continued. “To destroy the crown. To end my father’s reign.” “Will you stop me?” she demanded. He tilted his head, his mirrored eyes unreadable. “No. I will help you.” Shock rippled through her. Dorian explained: “The crown feeds on lies. It sustains my father, but it consumes everything else. The kingdom is dying. I want to see it free… even if it means my family’s fall.” Elira hesitated. Could she trust him? Or was this another reflection, another trap? But when he extended his hand, she took it. --- Chapter Five: The Shattered Truth The Hall of Shards was the heart of Miraval. A cavernous chamber filled with towers of glass, each one pulsing with illusions. At its center stood the crown, resting upon a pedestal of obsidian. As Elira and Dorian approached, the glass came alive. Reflections swarmed around them—visions of wealth, of safety, of love. “Elira,” whispered one mirror, showing her a life where her parents lived, where she was not hollow but whole. Her chest ached. She almost reached out. But Dorian grabbed her hand. “They are lies. You are stronger than them.” Together, they reached the crown. Its shards glowed with cruel light, whispering promises of power. “You could rule,” it hissed. “Take me, and all will bow to you.” Elira raised her dagger. Her hand trembled. Then she remembered the slums, the starving children, the broken families enslaved to illusions. She drove the dagger down. The crown screamed. Glass exploded, shattering towers, ripping through the palace in a storm of shards. Illusions dissolved into smoke. For the first time in decades, the truth stood bare. The kingdom saw itself—not as a jewel, but as broken, starving, dying. And the people rose. --- Chapter Six: The Fall of Glass King Veylor raged, his power crumbling with the crown. His illusions faltered, his guards scattered. “You think truth will save you?” he roared, confronting Elira and Dorian. “Truth destroys! Lies are what keep people alive!” “No,” Elira said, her voice firm. “Lies keep them enslaved.” With a final cry, Veylor lunged. But Dorian stepped forward, blocking his father’s strike. The blade pierced his side, and he fell, blood gleaming like ruby against shattered glass. Elira caught him as he collapsed. “Don’t let it be for nothing,” he whispered. “Build a kingdom of truth.” Tears burned her eyes. She held him as the last shards of glass fell around them, the palace collapsing into ruin. The Kingdom of Shattered Glass was no more. --- Chapter Seven: A New Dawn In the weeks that followed, Miraval began to rebuild. Without illusions, the truth was harsh: poverty, hunger, grief. But it was real. And with reality came the chance to heal. Elira, once the Hollow Girl, became a symbol of hope. She led not with crowns or illusions, but with truth. The people followed her because she showed them who they were—not who they dreamed to be. At dawn, she often stood upon the palace ruins, gazing at the horizon. The glass no longer glittered. The world was not perfect. But it was honest. And in honesty, there was freedom. --- Moral of the Story Illusions may comfort, but they enslave. Truth, no matter how painful, is the foundation of freedom. A kingdom built on lies will always shatter, but a people who embrace truth can build a future that endures.
By Noman Khanabout a year ago in Fiction
Falling for My Best Friend: A Friends-to-Lovers Romance
Chapter One – Just Friends Emma Reed and Noah Parker had been inseparable for nearly fifteen years. They met in college—Emma, a shy journalism major with messy notebooks, and Noah, a computer science student who always carried too much coffee and a grin that could disarm anyone. From day one, he made her laugh when she wanted to cry, and she grounded him when life made no sense.
By Shakespeare Jrabout a year ago in Fiction
“The Silent River: A Journey of Hope and Resilience
In a small village cradled by towering mountains and wrapped in endless silence, there lived a boy whose dreams were far bigger than the world around him. He was not born with wealth, nor did he inherit gold or jewels that could ease the burdens of life. What he owned was far more precious — an unyielding hope, a heart that refused to surrender, and a resilience that seemed to grow stronger with each challenge life threw at him.
By wahdatullaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Village Dreamer: How a Simple Boy’s Struggles Sparked a Brighter Tomorrow
Introduction: A Boy Beyond the Horizon In a quiet mountain village, far from the noise of cities and the glitter of wealth, there lived a boy whose life seemed too small for the dreams he carried. He had no riches, no special privileges, and no connections to powerful people. What he had were three simple possessions: an old book with yellowed pages, a half-used notebook, and a cheap pen whose ink often faded before finishing a page.
By wahdatullaabout a year ago in Fiction
Finding out about an affair through the Ouija Board
Characters: Linda: A 16-year-old girl wearing rose-printed pajamas. Samantha: A 36-year-old ghost. Scene: Linda’s bedroom, 11:00 PM. A full moon glows through the window, casting silver shadows across the room. Linda sits cross-legged on the floor, a flashlight shining over the Ouija board.
By Diani Alvarengaabout a year ago in Fiction
