Fantasy

The Astronaut Who Broke Down on Mars
No one ever talks about the silence. Not the kind you find in a library, or a late-night street, or a quiet bedroom. This was heavier—like the air itself was gone, and all that was left was the sound of my own blood moving in my ears.
By Emad Iqbalabout a year ago in Fiction
The Doll That Grew Up With Me
When I was six years old, my grandmother gave me a porcelain doll for my birthday. She had chestnut hair in soft curls, eyes the shade of storm clouds, and a pale blue dress with lace at the cuffs. Her name was stitched into a tiny fabric tag at her waist: Clara.
By Hamidabout a year ago in Fiction
Bees In The Honey
He saw the slightest glint of metal from across the valley, their signal to prepare, and offered his own quick glint in the midday sun. Sheathing his knife, Ranger Captain Grambel checked his bowstring one last time. It should have been in perfect order, he’d checked it at least four times today, but on this last inspection he saw it–the smallest of burrs attached just below the string nock. It was a little thing, and he pulled it off all the same.
By Matthew J. Frommabout a year ago in Fiction
*The Whispering Library*
In the quiet corner of a forgotten town stood a library older than memory. Its stone walls were veiled in ivy, its windows perpetually misted, as though the building breathed in secrets and exhaled silence. Most people passed it without a glance. Few dared to enter. But Amina did.
By meerjananabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Library Card. AI-Generated.
The first time Lena saw the library card, it was lying on the sidewalk outside the closed doors of the Ridley Street Library.
By MUHAMMAD BILALabout a year ago in Fiction
"The Tattoo Master of the Damned". 🩸
The devil stands above his captor, taunting...daring him to create the perfect inked irezumi...the only way to free himself. Frenziedly, the artist sketches...he must ink bold designs featuring mythical creatures...vibrant, nature motifs and folklore. His aim...to lure more victims to his captor's lair.
By Novel Allenabout a year ago in Fiction
The Postcard That Arrived Twenty Years Late
The postcard slid out of the mail stack like a ghost. It didn’t belong—nestled between a gas bill and a garish coupon flyer, its edges were curled, the paper soft from being touched too often. The handwriting on the front stopped Mara cold. Loops and flourishes, the kind she’d memorized as a child when she’d copy her sister’s cursive in the margins of her school notebooks.
By MUHAMMAD BILALabout a year ago in Fiction
The Courting of Princess Astoria
“Are you paying attention, Prince Ben?” Ben blinks. He can feel Grayle sitting next to him, the goatley’s warm fur brushing against the bare skin of his arm.“I am, and very much so, Grayle,” he says politely, although admittedly he had let his mind wander for a moment.
By chloeabout a year ago in Fiction
The Man Who Sold Sunlight
For sixty-three years, the sun had been nothing more than a memory. The sky was a permanent bruise choked by ash, smog, and the scars of wars that had burned the atmosphere beyond repair. Crops shriveled before they could sprout. Rivers turned to glass. Cities disappeared beneath layers of ice and silence.
By Muzamil khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Vanishing of Evelyn Harper. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction created with the assistance of AI technology. While inspired by true crime themes, all characters, events, and details are fictional or dramatized. It is not based on any real person or case.
By Jada Hawnabout a year ago in Fiction
My Imaginary Friend Turned Real Overnight
When I was seven, I had an imaginary friend named Eli. He had messy hair, a crooked smile, and an endless supply of encouragement.
By Habib kingabout a year ago in Fiction
Tiffanor, Sheenora and the Invisible Dragon. 🐉
✍️ The Battle for Medlacov begins. Long before the dawn of virtual time...There was Medlacov...a city woven from metaphors, ink, and imagination - writers dwelled in word-filled peace. Their towers were built from sonnets, their streets paved with prose.
By Novel Allenabout a year ago in Fiction