Fantasy

The Whispering Umbrella
In a quiet, rain-soaked city, a struggling writer named Mara stumbles upon an old umbrella in a secondhand store. The shopkeeper warns her, “This isn’t just an umbrella—it listens.” Skeptical but intrigued, Mara buys it and discovers the umbrella has a peculiar ability: it whispers the inner thoughts of anyone who walks under its shadow.
By Mira Langston2 years ago in Fiction
The Lost Symbol
It started with an unmarked envelope tucked into my mailbox. At first glance, it seemed harmless—aged parchment, no return address, just my name scrawled in hurried penmanship. Yet, as I opened it, my pulse quickened. Inside was a single sheet of paper bearing a cryptic symbol, one that I had seen before only in my nightmares—a strange, intertwined pattern, part serpent, part flame, with an eye embedded in its core. Beneath it, in trembling ink, was written: "The truth lies in the forgotten."
By James2 years ago in Fiction
The Abandoned Manor
I never should have gone back to the manor. It stood as a specter of my youth, a decaying structure perched atop the hill, its gothic spires clawing at the sky. Time had worn its façade, and yet the air around it seemed untouched, as though the world dared not encroach too closely. I hadn’t thought about that place in years, not until the letter arrived—a single sheet of parchment bearing no return address, only the words: “The truth awaits you in the manor.”
By James2 years ago in Fiction
Existence - A Novela
Loss and grief are probably some of the most powerful emotions an individual can experience. Most cannot understand the depths of sorrow and despair of another until they have experienced it themselves. The waves of change in Existence represent the waves of emotion one experiences and the battle between the desire to hold on tightly and relinquishing control. There is a hope of abatement coupled with an emptiness that swirls in the murky waters of the riptide of grief. - Rebecca Gonzales, From a letter to Dr. Higgs, December 5, 2024
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales2 years ago in Fiction
The Weavers of Mythos
“O, Creator! Can Monsters exist in the sight of him who alone knows how they were invented, how they invented themselves, and how they might not have invented themselves?” - Charles Baudelaire
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales2 years ago in Fiction
Crossroads
Turning it in gauntleted hands, he felt the weight of all creation carried by its bloodstained hilt. Excalibur. Outside, the crows sang Arthur’s Lament.
By Matthew J. Fromm2 years ago in Fiction
The Enchanted Forest Tale
The Call of the Whispering Woods Lila Summers had always felt drawn to the forest near her grandmother's home. The villagers called it the Whispering Woods, a place of ancient magic and untold mysteries. For years, they warned her to stay away, speaking in hushed tones of those who entered but never returned.
By Alpha Cortex2 years ago in Fiction
The Legend of the Forgotten Tomb
A Mysterious Discovery Dr. Evelyn Grant was no stranger to the mysteries of the ancient world. As a seasoned archaeologist, her career was built on unearthing secrets buried beneath layers of history. However, when she received an encrypted message from her old mentor, Professor Adrian Blake, she knew this was unlike any other discovery.
By Alpha Cortex2 years ago in Fiction
The Secrets of Willow Lake
A Letter From the Past Emily Hartman always considered herself a realist, firmly grounded in the everyday hustle of urban life. Yet, the arrival of a weathered envelope changed everything. The letter was from her late grandfather, a man she barely remembered, urging her to visit Willow Lake, a secluded property deep in the Appalachian wilderness. It spoke of urgent matters left unresolved and secrets buried under the still waters of the lake.
By Alpha Cortex2 years ago in Fiction
The Enigma of Ravenwood Manor
A Fateful Inheritance Isabella Carter never imagined her life would change overnight. A quiet librarian from a bustling city, she had grown accustomed to the predictable rhythm of her days. That was until she received a letter from an unknown solicitor, informing her that she was the sole heir to a sprawling estate—Ravenwood Manor, located in the heart of the English countryside. Confused but intrigued, Isabella packed her belongings and set off to uncover the mystery of her sudden inheritance.
By Alpha Cortex2 years ago in Fiction
The Wolf Goddess
Introduction This is my seventeenth piece inspired by Angie Linvingstone's amazing artwork. You can find her on Facebook on the link below, and her comments on my work are very positive.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Fiction
Forgotten memories: the choice
Waves of dust kicked up with every of his steps. Leaving in his wake the footprints of his bare feet surrounded by small ruddy droplets. The individual continued on his way, his slow, strange gait giving off a slightly masculine air. He came to a staircase, which he began to climb. His breathing was jerky, as if he was exerting himself with every movement. A stained-glass window depicting an angel with a brandished sword stood in the middle of the staircase,moonbeams shining through it as the only source of light in the darkness of this tower, making the white marble walls sparkle. He paused for a moment, contemplating the moon at its peak. The moonlight illuminated his face for the fleeting moment he had stopped. It revealed the features of a brown-haired child with deep black eyes. They were devoid of emotion. Tanned skin covered his skeletal face. Wet streaks ran from his eyes to his cheeks. The child turned to observe the shadowy area created by his silhouette. His back, covered with a lacerated tunic, was revealed. And through it, his skin was studded with scourging marks. Continuing his observation of the celestial body, he slowly raised his hand and placed it on the stained-glass window as if for a second he'd wanted to cross it. He quickly snapped out of his reverie, shaking his head. He turned away from what had captivated him and resumed his journey. The staircase ended in a corridor with a single door. A torch hung on the wall, supported by a candelabra. He tapped gently on the door, its hinges crying out in protest as it swung open. With the door ajar, the child hesitated for a moment, then entered the room, sweeping it with his eyes. A dying candle lit up the desolate-looking room.The only furniture was a half-ruined bed with straw visible through the holes. A table and two chairs made of worn wood sat in the middle. And a desk on which a woman lay sound asleep. From where he stood, he could make out the ceiling, which was strewn with translucent white canvases, flarinìä canvases. As if to punctuate these thoughts, an insectoid beast moved into a corner. Four pairs of eyes watched it, glinting in the darkness. The corners of his mouth parted in a smile, as the beast was hated and hunted on sight just like himself. The child moved towards the woman with the intention of waking her, his foot sinking into a hot, sticky liquid. Losing his balance in surprise, he fell to the ground. His head hit the ground hard. The shock took his breath away. A dazed look came over his face as he tried to understand what had happened. He got to his feet with an unsteady step, the sleeping woman hadn't moved a centimeter. He bent down to examine the slimy liquid, whose smell and coloring reminded him of something he knew all too well. It was blood! His heart began to beat wildly. He waded into the pool of blood and with a trembling hand shook the woman he had once called mother. He flinched as his hand made contact with the cold flesh. Blood bathed the arms of the now-dead sleeper, deep gashes made with a sharp object. Whether it was a knife or a dagger, the reflection of the bloodstained metal on the desk confirmed his guess. He closed his eyes, trying to convince himself that it was all a dream, but the cold, lifeless body was still there when he reopened them. He grabbed her with a kind of frenzy and shook her as if trying to rekindle even a spark of life inside her, repeating her name over and over like a mantra. The silence of the tower was shattered by his cries as he screamed out all his anger and despair. A few hours later, the screaming stopped, his voice had grown hoarse and his tears had dried up. No one had heard him, no one had come. He was alone, as he had always been. He gradually came to his senses as his thoughts became more or less clear. A single question sprang to mind: why! And the answer was almost immediate: it was because of him, everything had always been because of him. A man's face popped into his mnd, his jaw clenched in frustration. She had promised him that when he was older, they could escape. Like the child he'd been, he'd drunk the words of the only person who'd never shown him a gesture of tenderness, his mother. Now he understood that he had been fooled into hoping. At the very moment he realized this, the child in him had died and only the man remained. A new flame burned in his eyes, the flame of resentment and revenge!
By Valiano Forestal2 years ago in Fiction