Mystery

One Last Letter. AI-Generated.
The yellowed envelope sat at the bottom of my metal mailbox, tucked beneath a utility bill and a colorful grocery flyer. My name and address were written across the front in dark blue ink. The handwriting was unmistakable—slanted, sharp, and unmistakably David’s.
By M.Fiaz3 months ago in Fiction
The Cafe's Empty Chair. AI-Generated.
The small brass bell above the door of the café always rang twice when the wind blew. Every Tuesday afternoon, I sat at my usual table, drank my coffee, and stared at the empty seat near the big window. It was a simple dark wood chair with a small notch carved into the back.
By M.Fiaz3 months ago in Fiction
The Last Passenger. AI-Generated.
The 11:45 PM train out of the city was always quiet, but tonight felt different. Rain was heavy against the window, blurring the yellow streetlights outside into long streaks of soft light. I leaned my head against the cold glass, feeling the hum of the engine beneath my feet. I was completely exhausted—not just from a long day at work, but from months of feeling like I was living a life that wasn't really mine.
By M.Fiaz3 months ago in Fiction
Noise. Top Story - May 2023.
Unknown Noises The house was quiet. He was alone. He wanted to be alone, he wanted quiet, no television, no radio. He switched off his phone. He wanted peace. He wanted to rest, He would have it.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 months ago in Fiction
My Neighbor Left Me a Key With One Strange Warning. AI-Generated.
Old Mr. Henderson was the kind of neighbor who kept his lawn immaculate and his interactions brief. For six years, our relationship consisted entirely of polite nods over the fence and the occasional wave while taking out the trash. So when he knocked on my door on a rainy Tuesday evening, holding a heavy silver brass key, I was completely caught off guard.
By M.Fiaz3 months ago in Fiction
Every Night at 2:17, Someone Knocked on My Door. AI-Generated.
The first time it happened, I brushed it off as a half-asleep delusion. It was a cold, sharp Thursday in mid-November, and the wind outside was howling through the bare oak branches in my front yard. I woke up abruptly to three heavy, rhythmic knocks on my front door. Knock. Knock. Knock. I rolled over, blinked at the glowing red digits on my alarm clock— 2:17 AM —and assumed it was a lost neighbor or a confused delivery driver. But when I pulled back the window curtain, the porch was empty. The street lay dead silent under the amber glow of a single streetlight.
By M.Fiaz3 months ago in Fiction
Somewhere Special. Content Warning.
“Erica, you can do this. This is what you want. Remember?” Talking to myself again, out loud, in the mirror. But I was right. It was everything I wanted. Not having the burden of what I was born with. I could finally have freedom from the expectations and wouldn't have to feel bad about saying no so goddamn much.
By Paul Stewart3 months ago in Fiction
One Missed Call. AI-Generated.
It was a calm evening in Shanuou, a small town. Sarah , a young college student, sat at her desk, studying for her final exams. Her apartment felt cozy as she flipped through her textbooks.
By M.Fiaz3 months ago in Fiction
Talk To The Stones. Content Warning.
Prologue: I am not religious but am probably agnostic/atheist, but I have a love of stone circles and ancient mysticism and do believe we can take comfort in nature.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 months ago in Fiction
THE GIRL UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS
THE GIRL UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS The neighbours heard the scream just before midnight. It was followed by a terrible crashing from inside the house, as though furniture was being thrown against the walls. Someone shouted, then there was another scream, this one so full of terror that it sent a chill through the entire street. A neighbour immediately called the police. Within minutes, blue lights were flashing across the windows as officers arrived at the house.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Fiction
The Sound Beneath the House
There are sounds which a man may hear and forget, and there are others which enter the mind with such dreadful force that they become a permanent portion of it. I had always possessed an unfortunate sensitivity to sound. The smallest disturbance could command my attention for hours, and the faintest movement beyond a wall could keep me awake long after the rest of the household had surrendered to sleep. I had spent much of my life regarding this affliction as a weakness that could be mastered through reason. On the night of the storm, however, reason proved a frail defense against what came from beneath my chamber.
By Tim Carmichael3 months ago in Fiction
Pugilistic Portrait
"Are you alright, sir?" I felt as if I had been punched by a heavyweight, and one without gloves at that. I tried to focus. I was propped up on a low chair or stool of some sort and was looking up at a middle-aged man who seemed somehow familiar. There was nothing familiar about my surroundings.
By Raymond G Taylor3 months ago in Fiction