Fantasy

Voices From the Glow
Before the world showed its teeth, heroes were never quite real. They were action figures sitting on shelves arranged with care, frozen in bravery, bright and unchanging. They were posters taped to my bedroom wall, their colours vivid even in the dim evening light. And there were voices coming from a television screen while my mother cooked dinner and my father sat quietly in the other room.
By Mark Lim about a month ago in Fiction
Name That Meant Everything
Before the smoke, before the silence, before I learned that bright things can burn, the Vanguard was more than a name. It sounded powerful.
By Mark Lim about a month ago in Fiction
Names That Shone Brightest
The world shifted beneath my feet; they were everything. They were action figures sitting on shelves, lined up with reverent care, frozen in poses of courage and strength. They were posters taped to my bedroom wall, their colours bright and unweathered, watching over me as I slept. And there were voices coming from a television screen while my mother cooked dinner and my father sat quietly in the other room, warm, assured, unshakeable.
By Mark Lim about a month ago in Fiction
A Beginning Baked in Blood
I sit on the steps of my apartment building, the stone cutting into my thighs. The steps are a familiar place where I used to read during summers, where games were played with the neighbors. This spot was always the sign of something good to come.
By caitodoesstuffabout a month ago in Fiction
A Dyad of Dunces. Top Story - October 2026.
It had been six days since two kingdoms fell around them. The Lady and the Brute could only listen from their cell within the castle walls as opposing armies ripped each other to pieces. The invasion came swiftly, whereas the moans of the dying lasted far too long after the battle was finished.
By John Dodgeabout a month ago in Fiction
The Night Collector of Overdue Library Books and Et ceteras.
Do you have overdue books, DVD's, or any other borrowed things which you have either forgotten, or never bothered to return to the library. Then you alone will be responsible for what happens when he comes to collect.
By Novel Allenabout a month ago in Fiction
Silence on the Shelf
Before the world cracked open, heroes were something you could hold. They were action figures sitting on shelves arranged with deliberate care, shoulders squared, capes unfurled, frozen in eternal readiness. Bright, unblemished, impossible. Blaze Kommando with his flame-etched chest plate. Frost Ratu in armour the colour of the winter sky. Singa Steel stands broad and unyielding. Nightveil, apart at the end, cloaked in shadowed plastic. I would stand before them for hours, letting my eyes travel from one to the next, believing in the stillness. Believing that strength meant never wavering. That goodness was something painted on, permanent and unchanging.
By Mark Lim about a month ago in Fiction
The Light That Blinded Us
They weren't criminals hiding in the shadows like the people my father admired. That was what made them different. That was what made them shine.
By Mark Lim about a month ago in Fiction
Before the Light Broke
Before that day, heroes were just images. Not flesh and blood. Not voices that could turn cold. Not hands that could lift you up and also order others to be put to death. They were posters taped to my bedroom wall. Faces glowed from the television screen while dinner simmered on the stove. Colours and symbols and names spoken like prayers: Blaze Kommando, Frost Ratu, Singa Steel, Nightveil. They were larger than life, brighter than the afternoon sun, untouchable and unflawed. They were what I dreamed of becoming. What every child in Kuala Lumpur dreamed of becoming.
By Mark Lim about a month ago in Fiction
Flame That Blinded
They weren't criminals hiding in the shadows like the people my father admired. That was what made them different. That was what made them shine.
By Mark Lim about a month ago in Fiction
Images in the Smoke
Before that day, heroes were just images. There were posters on the bedroom walls. Taped up carefully, corners smoothed flat, placed where the morning light would catch them first thing. Their faces glowed from the television screen while rain tapped against the windows and dinner steamed on the table. They were colours and symbols and names spoken like something holy: Blaze Kommando, Frost Ratu, Singa Steel, Nightveil larger than life, brighter than the sun, untouchable and unbroken.
By Mark Lim about a month ago in Fiction
Secrets of the Dwayhkieh Cave
This article was created by Artificial Intelligence.
By Αλη Αλαληabout a month ago in Fiction