Mystery
When the world splits
In the town of Stillwater, there are those who say the river runs backward twice a year. It is only a trick of wind and moonlight, but to some, it means the Lord remembers what we forget. That was what Ella used to believe once, when she was seventeen and thought herself ruined by the truth growing beneath her ribs.
By Taylor Wardabout a year ago in Fiction
One More Round
There was a knock at the door. Three of them, actually. Jax froze with his hand on the arm of the couch, the sound cutting through the air. Nobody knocked on his door anymore, not in a long time, not since everything stopped feeling like a home. It sounded like Misty’s knock. He stood up slowly, his heart pushing against his ribs like it wanted out, and crossed the living room that still smelled faintly of her perfume, no matter how many times he cleaned. The door handle felt cold in his palm. As he turned it and opened the door, there she was, Misty, standing there with her hair pulled back the way she wore it when she was about to spar, eyes bright and wide. Her lips curled into a small smile that hit him right in the chest.
By Joey Rainesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Knock At The Door
The Knock At The Door It was late. The house had gone still. Only the hum of the fridge, the slow tick of the clock in the hall, and the whisper of her own breathing. Then came the knock. Hard. Sharp. Like a hammer against her skull.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Fiction
The Enemy of My Enemy. Top Story - October 2025.
Lottie took out her earbud and turned towards the front door, even though she couldn’t see it from the kitchen. When she didn’t hear anything else, Lottie shrugged as she put her earbud back in. Which was probably pointless because she was just going to take it out in a few minutes anyway to watch a movie. But she also didn’t care. Lottie had a very bad day yesterday and was having an equally bad day today, so if she wanted to listen to music while making popcorn, then she was going to listen to music while making popcorn. The only reason she wasn’t blasting it on the speakers was because, well...she didn’t have one. Not anymore.
By Rebecca Pattonabout a year ago in Fiction
The Cog-Boy of Aethel. AI-Generated.
Master Elara Vance found him three hours later. The workshop that had once been Baron Von Greed's private laboratory was now a scene of controlled chaos. Academy artificers worked alongside city engineers to catalog the Baron's equipment (the man himself had vanished in the confusion following the resonance cascade). Awakened automatons wandered the space, some weeping electronically as they rediscovered their suppressed memories, others simply marveling at the return of choice to their existence.
By Shane D. Spearabout a year ago in Fiction
Which Arcane Formats Reveal Hidden Routes for Indie Authors?
Which Arcane Formats Reveal Hidden Routes for Indie Authors? Chuck Morgan, Crime Fiction Author Arcane knowledge often holds the key to your success as an indie author. By exploring lesser-known formats and avenues, you can unlock unique opportunities to connect with readers and amplify your voice. This post researches various unconventional publishing methods and marketing strategies that could help to establish your presence in the literary world. Discover how these hidden routes can enhance your visibility and foster a loyal readership, ultimately elevating your writing career.
By Charles E Morganabout a year ago in Fiction
The Envelopes. Winner in A Knock at the Door Challenge.
They gave me a watch before they gave me the keys. "No digital," the day attendant said, digging through the cluttered office drawer. "Here." She dropped a weight into my palm; a worn, old-fashioned wristwatch with a domed glass and a second hand that ticked like a heartbeat.
By Autumn Stewabout a year ago in Fiction
Akashic Coffee
Victoria Mendoza pushed the door open to Akashic Coffee, the chime overhead a soft whisper against the hush of coastal morning. The air inside was steeped in espresso and wood smoke, the soundscape a mixture of lo-fi beats and soft laughter from other early risers. It was one of those San Luis Obispo mornings when the fog still hugged the mountains, reluctant to leave.
By Tony Martelloabout a year ago in Fiction
The Girl Who Remembered Every Lifetime
The first time Amina opened her eyes, she was certain she had lived before. Not in the sense of déjà vu, that fleeting echo everyone experiences, but in a way that shook her to the core. She could name places she had never visited, describe the scent of flowers that did not grow in her country, and whisper languages no one had taught her.
By Saqib Ullahabout a year ago in Fiction
