Fantasy

Dragon’s Shadow
I didn’t know my father was one of the most feared enforcers of one of the most powerful criminal organizations in Malaysia.
By Mark Lim 2 months ago in Fiction
The Gravity of the Pavement
The streets glistened beneath the orange glow of streetlights, every puddle reflecting broken pieces of neon signs and passing headlights. The towers in the distance stood like silent giants, watching over a city that never truly slept. Somewhere out there were heroes. The kind children looked up to. The kind I used to believe in.
By Mark Lim 2 months ago in Fiction
Stitch: Where the Forest meets the Sea. Content Warning.
Bane: You don’t belong here. But you came anyway. Russia is not the place for a man like you to disappear in. Plain and simple.
By Syl De'Vil2 months ago in Fiction
After the Monsoon
The rain had stopped an hour ago, but KL still carried the smell of a city that had been washed and left to rot. It was that particular scent, not quite petrichor, not quite sewage, that belongs exclusively to tropical cities where the heat presses down on wet concrete like a palm on a feverish forehead. The gutters along Jalan Tun H.S. Lee were still running brown, carrying cigarette butts and torn receipts and the ghosts of last night's mamak stall grease toward some unseen drain. Above, the sky had turned the colour of old pewter, and the Petronas Towers caught what little light remained, glowing faintly as two enormous tuning forks struck against the clouds.
By Mark Lim 2 months ago in Fiction
Bittersweet
This piece was written for the following prompt: Consider the many different ways a person can be haunted: * The haunting of the unfinished conversation — the thing you never said, or the thing that was said to you that can never be unsaid. * The haunting of a person who is still alive. * The haunting of the self you abandoned * The haunting of a place. * The haunting of the body a person used to have — before the illness, the accident, the surgery. * The haunting of the life a woman didn’t choose. * The haunting of inherited trauma. * The haunting of a belief one can no longer hold. * The haunting of joy — the summer you were twenty-two, and everything was possible, the early days of a love before it got complicated. * The haunting of the thing he saw that he cannot unsee — an act of violence, a moment of cruelty.
By Rooney Morgan2 months ago in Fiction
Winter Peaches
The crunch of the snow underfoot always reminded her of childhood. Even in this place. The middle of a crowded street. Walking swiftly to nowhere in particular. She saw the determination on the faces of those she passed. Desperate to get somewhere warm. She felt that same desperation but had no hope of finding solace. There was no warmth waiting for her at home. Because there was no home.
By Raine Fielder2 months ago in Fiction
Stitch: The October Vortex. Content Warning.
Dreams are doorways, and tonight one opens in the middle of Beaver Pond. October shouldn’t have sounded like this. Beaver Pond buzzed with cicadas — that thick, electric hum that only happened on the hottest days of summer. Crickets layered beneath them, frantic and constant, like the forest was vibrating. The air hung heavy, wet, pressing against Sara’s skin like a fever.
By Syl De'Vil2 months ago in Fiction
Through And Beyond Smoke
If it’s one thing Jyllmon hates, is driving through the road in extreme darkness. To him, it felt like a horror movie where he had no idea what’s to come. It could be a random deer dashing through the streets, or a helpless woman being chased through the woods, or just simply a broken down car.
By Devond Devoe2 months ago in Fiction
The Door I Should’ve Left Closed
Last night, I got drunk for the first time in longer than I can remember. My roommate was away gone for the weekend, leaving the apartment quiet and empty, and somewhere between the third glass of wine and the haze that settled soft and heavy over my brain, I did something I still can’t fully explain.
By Mark Lim 2 months ago in Fiction
The Punch, The Shadow, And The Warning
I’m flying high above New Haven, phone pressed to my ear, gliding over the lights, when Rashon starts going off. “Bro, I’m telling you she got me fucked up .”
By Mark Lim 2 months ago in Fiction
Pancakes, Secrets, And The Girl Who’s Coming Later
I wake up to my alarm at 8:47 a.m. Cliff lifts his heavy head from my legs, tail thumping against the mattress. He’s a massive German Shepherd, and he’s been sleeping on me all night like a weighted blanket.
By Mark Lim 2 months ago in Fiction
The Puncher, The Shadow,
My alarm blares. It’s 7:15 a.m. Cliff lifts his head from the foot of my bed, tail thumping happily against the floor. I lay there for a second, staring up at the ceiling, replaying Saturday night in my head. The gas station. The fight. Vector Prime showed up after it was all over. I already know by first bell, by every hallway conversation, by every phone screen lit up in every hand, everyone is going to be talking about me .
By Mark Lim 2 months ago in Fiction