Fantasy

The Weight of an Unfinished Self
I was not searching for truth. Truth implies arrival, a final place where questions collapse into silence. But I never trusted endings.
By Ibrahim 7 months ago in Fiction
The Silence That Outlived Meanin
I did not break. That would have been simple— a clean fracture, a visible end. What happened instead was slower, more precise.
By Ibrahim 7 months ago in Fiction
The Geometry of Burning Thoughts
I did not arrive here to write. Writing is only the smoke left behind when something inside me refuses to stay whole. I came to dismantle.
By Ibrahim 7 months ago in Fiction
The Cartographer of Extinct Stars. AI-Generated.
Lyra's fingers traced the constellation that shouldn't exist. The holographic star chart flickered in the cramped cockpit of her survey vessel, casting blue shadows across her weathered face. She'd been mapping the Void Quarter for three months—that forsaken wedge of space where stars went to die—and in all that time, she'd cataloged nothing but stellar corpses and cosmic debris. Until now.
By Alpha Cortex7 months ago in Fiction
Being Seen
“True story,” is how she starts every story before launching into the most implausible tale. She claimed the moon was stalking her last night, so she waited until it was close enough to grab. Once she got ahold of it, she shrank it to marble size.
By Tina D. Lopez7 months ago in Fiction
True Story
“True story,” is how she starts every story before launching into the most implausible tale. Last night, she claimed the moon was stalking her, said she caught it, shrank it to marble size. I chuckled until she reached into her pocket and pulled out the luminous orb.
By Tina D. Lopez7 months ago in Fiction
On a Bed in the Middle of the Sea
The boy pulls back, startled by her reaction. He wonders if a kiss means something different in their culture. He looks into her eyes and realizes… no, it means the same thing. He takes a deep breath, preparing to explain to this perfect mermaid why this isn’t a good moment. But when his eyes meet hers, he can’t say anything. His mind goes completely blank. He slowly leans in again, unable to look away from her deep violet eyes. Weren’t they blue before? They kiss again, softly at first, then more intensely. “Seveline?” the other one asks, irritated. The mermaid is almost climbing onto the bed with him now, and his hands have already wandered over every curve of her body. “SEVELINE?!” Perla shouts, now clearly angry. Seveline stops, and the boy begins to regain his thoughts. “I. Am. Very. Hungry.” the other one says, breathing heavily, while Seveline sighs like a child whose favorite toy has just been taken away. Once he manages to think clearly again, the boy asks: “Why did you save me?” His sweet mermaid turns slightly, and in a calm tone says: “Well, your flesh was too tender to let it soak in water and lose its taste. And Perla prefers humans without adrenaline in their blood… so we let you calm down first.” The boy freezes. All he manages to say is: “Wait… what?!” Before both mermaids grab him, and pull him under the water.
By Daria Alexandra Enache7 months ago in Fiction
The Manuscript Beneath the Monastery
I have long resisted telling this story—not because it lacks proof, but because the proof itself should never be uncovered again. Yet time has a way of eroding fear, and memory demands a voice. What I am about to recount is not invention, nor drunken folklore whispered in candlelit taverns. It is something I witnessed, something that followed me long after I fled the mountains of Transylvania.
By Gaurav Gupta7 months ago in Fiction
The Ghostly garden
Every third night of every month, exactly at 10pm, an ethereal ghost, cloaked in spectral energy, floats through the desolate, fog-laden flower garden of the town of Galloway. By day the garden is an ordinary and pleasant place for the town's people to sit and read or just meditate...but by night...scattered amongst the ancient, moss-covered petals - remnants of a long forgotten civilization mysteriously appears from an obscure past life. With it comes a magical and eerie blend of dark fantasy, atmospheric realism and haunting landscapes.
By Antoni De'Leon7 months ago in Fiction
Whispers in the Fog: A Town That Never Sleeps
The town lay under a velvet fog that never fully lifted, its streets slick with damp and silence. Even the neon of the diner flickered with hesitation, as if unsure it should illuminate the night. The air carried a weight, a subtle hum that tugged at the edges of the mind—a whisper of things best left unspoken.
By Algieba7 months ago in Fiction
Fandom
I. Usually, I’m not a morning person. I tend to exhaust myself during the day, and I need to get some sleep in the night in order to perform well the following day. That’s even more important when you’re a superhero like me. Your body not only uses more energy and power, especially in battles against evil, than those of mortal people, but it also requires more energy and power to sustain itself on a daily basis.
By David Perlmutter7 months ago in Fiction
The Skull Washed Ashore
The Skull Washed Ashore The tide was slow that morning, dragging itself across the shore with a heavy sound that seemed to settle into the bones rather than pass through the ears, and the sky hung low in a dull grey weight that made the whole stretch of beach feel closed in, as though the world had narrowed to that one place and refused to open beyond it. I had walked there many times before, enough to know every shift in the sand and every curve of the shoreline, yet that day something felt wrong in a way that could not be easily named, something quiet and watchful that seemed to exist just beyond the edge of thought.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Fiction