Fantasy

*The Clockmaker's Promise*
In a quiet town nestled between rolling hills and a slow-moving river, there stood a small shop with a crooked sign that read “Timeless Hands.” Inside, the air was warm and still, filled with the soft, steady rhythm of ticking clocks. Wall clocks, pocket watches, mantel clocks—they all chimed and clicked in quiet harmony, each keeping time in its own way.
By meerjananabout a year ago in Fiction
Operation Lassi Spill
It was one of those golden Punjabi afternoons—the kind where the sun hangs warm in the sky, the air smells of cardamom and fresh roti, and every lane in the village hums with celebration. A wedding was in full swing, the biggest the village had seen in years. Banners fluttered above the courtyard, children darted between guests with sticky fingers, and uncles danced with the kind of energy that defied their age.
By meerjananabout a year ago in Fiction
Under the Tree House Tree
In the year 1870, Joseph Terry, the Sheriff of York, found himself walking along the tranquil forest path past the tree house tree on his way to York. The air was crisp, and the sound of rustling leaves underfoot created a serene melody that contrasted sharply with the bustling life of the city he was heading towards.
By Charlesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Second Cup of Tea
The bell above the café door chimed the way it always had, soft and familiar. I looked up from wiping the counter, expecting another regular who liked their tea strong and their scones warm. Instead, a man I didn’t recognize stepped inside. He was tall, dressed in a long coat, with eyes that seemed to search the room for something he’d lost. There was a strange sense of quiet about him—like he carried a piece of the past in his pocket. “Do you still serve Assam?” he asked. It was an odd question. We hadn’t had it on the printed menu for years, but I kept a tin tucked away for my own use. Something in his voice made me nod and reach for it without asking why.
By Harleyabout a year ago in Fiction
The Secrets My Mother Kept
Once safely back in his room, Alex ducked under the covers with his new treasure and flipped the flashlight back on. It shown brightly through the thick wool blanket his aunt Sydney had given him on his seventh birthday. He had gone through a mighty big dinosaur phase then, represented by the green outlines of pteradactyles, triceratops, and Tyranosaurus rexes that cluttered the black cloth he had grown up in.
By Parsley Rose about a year ago in Fiction
Before the First Light
The last sliver of sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised purples and oranges that mocked Elara’s somber mood. Night had a different kind of gravity here, in the old, creaky house nestled on the edge of Whispering Woods. It wasn't just the lack of light; it was the way secrets felt heavier, decisions sharper, under the shroud of darkness. Tonight, the air was particularly thick with them, for it marked thirteen years since Lily had vanished.
By Stefano D'angelloabout a year ago in Fiction
Shadows That Remember
In a small, quiet village tucked between ancient, rolling hills, there lived a ten-year-old girl named Nina. She had a head full of wild curls that never stayed still and eyes that sparkled like the morning dew. Her home was a place unlike any other, not because of its cobblestone streets or its wooden cottages, but because of its shadows.
By Muzamil khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The 2:22 to Nowhere. Content Warning.
The first thing he noticed was the overhead light. Fluorescent, humming slightly and the exact shade of beige that only government buildings and hospital waiting rooms could manage. Then the smell hit: over-worn upholstery, faint antiseptic, and something oddly sweet, like wilted flowers left too long in water.
By Aspen Nobleabout a year ago in Fiction
Boss Fight at Midnight
The moon was high, a pale coin above the crumbling city skyline, when Alex’s HUD began flashing crimson. BOSS ENCOUNTER INCOMING – 00:03:17
By Haris Raheemabout a year ago in Fiction
Perfect
They awoke, as they did every time sleep left them, into darkness. With the ease developed by maneuvering through an unseen world they left their chamber and removed the accumulated toxins and liquids from their body quickly and efficiently with the extractor then moved towards the replenisher to restore their electrolyte balance.
By Judey Kalchik about a year ago in Fiction
A Shadow Over Helen
As night gathered, the treacherous brother of Cupid, Betrian, slunk his way through the glittering halls of proud Menelaus. Betrian of the devious mind, with his webbed appendages, forked tongue and sharp teeth, silently prised open the sturdy door to the bedchamber of the alluring Helen, swathed in bedsheets of silk stuffed with goose feathers. A candle, lone and flickering cast shadows for the silent Betrian to skulk between. Crawling up the bedpost, the gracious Queen of Sparta lay alone, for proud-hearted Menelaus had taken off to hunting with spear and hound accompanied by his companions. Betrian, close to sweet Helen’s ears, whispered his twisted words into her pleasant dreams.
By Joseph Whiteheadabout a year ago in Fiction
*The Forgotten Bench*
In a small town cradled by rolling hills and thick forest, there was a wooden bench by the lake. It wasn’t grand—its green paint had peeled, one leg was uneven, and the wood bore the soft scars of time. But if you sat there long enough, you might feel something linger in the air—quiet, familiar, like the echo of a laugh carried by the wind.
By meerjananabout a year ago in Fiction