Mystery
The Hotel That Never Opens
Chapter One – The Hotel on Blackwood Road Nobody in Blackwood spoke about the hotel. It stood at the end of an old road, surrounded by dead trees and covered in ivy. Its windows were always dark, its entrance hidden behind enormous iron gates.
By Silvia Felacoa day ago in Fiction
The Cemetery of Forgotten Names
Chapter One – The Invitation The rain had been falling for three days when Eleanor received the letter. It arrived on a Thursday morning, slipped beneath the front door of her small apartment. There was no stamp, no return address, and no name written on the envelope.
By Silvia Felacoa day ago in Fiction
Claudia' Dialetheism
-Do you remember your dreams, Claudia? I asked myself. -No... I couldn't remember my dreams because my reality is far beyond than what I envisioned for myself. I couldn't remember my dreams because I became a lost cause and so did my dreams.
By Semra Laureen Hill Jean3 days ago in Fiction
The Portrait That Grew Older
The portrait was the first thing Eleanor noticed when she entered the house. It hung above the fireplace in the drawing room, surrounded by an elaborate golden frame. The painting depicted a young woman with pale skin, dark hair, and eyes so lifelike that Eleanor felt an uncomfortable sensation of being watched.
By Silvia Felaco5 days ago in Fiction
We Don't Talk to Edith Thompson Part 4. Content Warning.
Ch 4: Sweet Revenge September 30th, 2025-7:45 PM She just... stared at me like she had nothing to do with my hospitalization, as if she were an innocent bystander who watched me. Protected me from... what exactly? Seizures? Flashbacks? Mystical powers?
By Rain Dayze5 days ago in Fiction
The Woman in the Attic
Chapter One: The House on Blackthorn Hill The first time Emily heard the woman crying, she thought it was the wind. It was late October, and rain had been falling for three days. The old house on Blackthorn Hill stood surrounded by bare trees, its windows dark and its wooden walls creaking whenever the wind grew stronger.
By Silvia Felaco6 days ago in Fiction
We Don't Talk to Edith Thompson Part 3. Content Warning.
Ch 3: History Lesson ????-??:?? ~~~ I felt like I was floating; slowly hovering through a black realm of blackness. I couldn't feel cold or warmth, just indifference. And then it happened. I was lying on a wooden, splintering table, and a man twice my age was having sex with me. We were both wearing old clothes, like something someone would wear in the 17th-century. He didn't speak, just grunted and panted as he thrusted between my thighs. It burned. More than I thought it should. Almost as if I were being torn apart from the inside.
By Rain Dayze6 days ago in Fiction
