Mystery

Whispers of the Forgotten
Echoes Beneath the Silence The wind moved strangely through the ruins of Vareth. Not with the sharp whistle of winter or the warm sigh of summer, but with a hushed, almost reverent tone—like it feared to speak too loudly. Moss-covered stones, shattered archways, and broken spires stood as solemn witnesses to a world long gone. Nature had reclaimed what man had forsaken, but something else lingered—something older than the forest and darker than the shadowed skies above.
By Shah Jehan2 years ago in Fiction
The Experiment. Top Story - April 2025.
Dr. Climen had been missing for the last two weeks, Climen had no family. So no one cared for him, he was a brilliant scientist Awarded at a national level, who made many strange and incredible inventions. So when he did not appear anywhere for two weeks, the police of the city started searching for him. She first knocks in Climen's lab, but there is no one; he does not keep anyone with him, so he has no assistant. Everything was normal in his lab. The police did not see anything treaty there. Instead, there were many flowering plants. Dr. Climen was probably very much fond of flowers plants, "an officer told his Senior. Senior officer Jon Stalking agreed, maybe these plants are part of any of his experience? We should check their entire lab." The entire lab was scrutinized, but the police did not find anything there. One more week passed, and Dr. Climen was still missing; the police estimated that perhaps they had gone out of the country to spend holidays, as Climen often did so; by then, his lab was sealed, and the case was closed. But the next day, a person who was passing through Climen's lab saw a red fluid from the back wall of the lab; he immediately informed the police, and when the police reached there, they examined the red fluid, and the result was that it was blood. Forensic report confirmed. The wall was immediately broken, and only a rose plant was found there, from which blood was flowing very slowly. Police officers were surprised to see this, they saw this for the first time in their lives. But there was also a letter; Jon Stalking started reading that letter.
By Karan w. 2 years ago in Fiction
The Chronophage Cache
Prologue: The Whisper in the Permafrost In 1972, Soviet drillers in Siberia fled their rig after pulling up a core sample that screamed. In 2007, Canadian miners discovered a 400-million-year-old hammer made of alloy no modern lab could replicate. But the true Pandora’s box opened in 2023, when the Kola-13 superdeep borehole struck the Door.
By Digital Home Library by Masud Rana2 years ago in Fiction
The Nameless Stranger. Top Story - April 2025.
A name is usually the first thing we learn about a person, but that was definitely not the case at this meeting. Sitting in front of me is a man; his strawberry-red hair cut short, with the heavy curls creating a puff-like look to his head. Looking out the window, his eyes scanning the countryside as we move past, on the way to the city—our destination.
By M. W. Larsen2 years ago in Fiction
🪄 Elaris Thorne
At the foot of the Velmora Mountains lay a mist-covered village. In this village lived a girl no one truly knew: Elaris Thorne.
By Lamia2 years ago in Fiction
Tender. Content Warning.
Note to editors: The site wouldn't let me publish this story to the "fiction" community unless it was six hundred words. The story portion of this was five hundred words exactly when I typed it into vocal. For some reason it was four hundred and seventy three words when I pasted it into "Microsoft word". I decided to go with five hundred according to vocals count. I am very sorry for this side note but I couldn't get it to even go through to be reviewed without making it at least six hundred words and I hope this doesn't disqualify this story.
By Raine Fielder2 years ago in Fiction
Life at the Cost of Drinking a Cup of Time: The Simulated Dream
Part Six: Fractured Horizon The laboratory was engulfed in an eerie silence, the hum of the machines drowned beneath the weight of anticipation. Alex stood at the center, sensors meticulously attached to his temples, wires snaking like veins into the heart of the system. Every breath he took felt heavier than the last, as if even the air resisted him. Darcy hesitated, fingers hovering over the console. "This is the last chance, Alex. We don’t know what’s waiting for you on the other side." Alex met her gaze unwaveringly. "We never will—unless I go." Rosalyn placed a reassuring hand on his arm, though she couldn’t hide the tremble in her fingers. "Just… come back." A faint smile ghosted Alex’s lips as he closed his eyes. Darcy exhaled sharply and pressed the start button. The room vibrated with energy, the machine roared to life. Data waves surged across the monitors, numbers morphing into unreadable symbols. And then—Alex vanished. --- He awoke in motion. Not falling, not flying—something in between. Time stretched, twisted, fractured, and reassembled itself in broken frames, like an old film reel skipping endlessly. Then, he landed. The air was thick with an invisible electricity, the scent of scorched metal filling his nostrils. Alex stumbled forward, his boots scraping against an unfamiliar surface—smooth, artificial, yet aged and worn. A city loomed ahead, its towers sleek but cracked, its streets abandoned yet echoing with unseen movements. Shadows flickered at the edges of his vision, too swift to be real. And then he saw her. Sarah. Older, exactly as he had seen her before. But this time, she wasn’t reaching out to help him. She was running—toward him, her eyes wide with terror and urgency. "Alex!" Her voice cut through the silence. "You’re not supposed to be here!" Before he could respond, the sky above them split open, light erupting from within like a wound torn in the fabric of reality. From the glow, a form emerged—vast, shifting, watching. And then, a voice. Not words heard, but a presence felt. "You are not the first. But you may be the last." Alex’s breath caught in his chest. This wasn’t just the future. It was a warning. --- "Alex! You are now synchronized with Tom’s brain signals. Focus!" Darcy’s voice rang in his ears, and suddenly, the world shifted. Alex found himself at home, on the morning of the accident. Sunlight streamed through the windows. Sarah stood in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Tom, brimming with energy, chattered about his new friend at school. Alex knew this moment defined everything. But how? Sarah grabbed the keys to drive Tom to school. Alex lunged forward. "No, Sarah! I’ll take him today." She laughed, but there was something in her eyes—something he hadn’t noticed before. "You’re sweet, Alex. But life isn’t that simple." Then she paused and softly said, "Look at the window, Alex." He turned. And his breath caught. Beyond the glass, another version of himself stood. In another room. Then another. And another. In one world, Tom was slightly younger, Sarah and Alex still youthful. In another, they were older. Infinite versions of himself, Sarah, Tom. But something was wrong. He whispered, "What am I supposed to do?" Sarah laughed. But it wasn’t her usual laugh—it was bitter, quiet, as if hiding a terrible truth. "Only one person gets to leave this room alive, Alex. And that’s you." Alex’s eyes widened. "And if I refuse?" Sarah sighed, sorrow flashing in her gaze. "Then you’ll be trapped here forever. There is no exit. No escape. This is a matrix." Alex turned to Tom. He was alive. So he whispered, "I want Tom to live." Sarah nodded slowly. "You’re a good father, Alex. But are you willing to be cursed forever?" Alex smiled faintly. "Yes. If it means saving Tom, yes. And if I can see you this clearly again, what else could I possibly want?" Sarah closed her eyes. "That’s your choice." A heavy silence swallowed the room. --- In the lab, Darcy stared at the monitors. The machines displayed unreadable signals. "What’s happening?!" Rosalind asked, panicked. Moments later, Tom gasped, his eyes snapping open, filled with confusion and fear. He was alive. But Alex? He had fallen into a deep sleep, a coma. Darcy murmured under her breath, "He’s trapped in another world…" That night, Rosalyn returned home, tears in her eyes. She played the recorded session. The tape was empty. No sound, no image, no sign of Alex. Only a faint whisper echoed in the silence. Was he still there? Was this an ending? Or a beginning? End of Chapter One
By Vafa Abbasi2 years ago in Fiction
Mawya’s Tide
Prologue: The Bone Flute Long before partition, before maps, there was the Mawya—the living breath of the Sundarbans. Fisherfolk say it sleeps in the mangrove roots, exhaling through tiger lungs and tidal blood. But when the shrimp farms came, steel cages devouring the brackish creeks, the Mawya began to choke.
By Digital Home Library by Masud Rana2 years ago in Fiction
Nasib’s Thread
Chapter 1: The Clockmaker’s Daughter Nasib Al-Mirri’s name was a blade wrapped in silk— fate in her mother’s tongue, a jest in the Clockwork City’s shadowed alleys. Careful, or Nasib’ll stitch your destiny! gondoliers crowed as she navigated the canals, their laughter bouncing off bioluminescent lanterns that pulsed like jellyfish in the brackish water. She ignored them, her arms laden with bolts of fabric dyed in stolen starlight, a commodity as fleeting as her mother’s legacy.
By Digital Home Library by Masud Rana2 years ago in Fiction
The Bride, the Groom, and the Bottle of Doom
Ghassid rushed down the street, dodging people left and right. “Ayo! Ay! Stop that man!” he shouted, pointing ahead at a Royal Courier moving twenty or so paces ahead of him.
By Paul Plett2 years ago in Fiction
Titanic: The Unsinkable Tragedy
April 10th, 1912. The world held its breath as the grandest ship ever built, the RMS Titanic, embarked on its maiden voyage. A marvel of engineering and opulence, it was hailed as unsinkable—a floating palace destined to conquer the Atlantic. Among its passengers were the rich and powerful, immigrants seeking new beginnings, and those drawn by the sheer magnificence of this behemoth.
By Jessica2 years ago in Fiction
The Divorce Attorney Who Accidentally Liked My Dating Profile
The notification popped up at 10:37 PM on a Tuesday, just as I was doomscrolling through dating apps in my sweatpants: "Michael Russo liked your profile!"
By Wiki Rjm2 years ago in Fiction