Psychological
Stagnant Waters
Special Agent Thomas J. Beeman stood at the edge of the brackish green backwater, looking over his surroundings. Taking a deep breath of the humid, putrid-smelling air, he almost gagged. The Mentholatum that he normally used to cover crime scene smells didn’t seem to work here. It appeared the stench of death and decay was one he’d never get used to.
By Mother Combs (Sharon)about a year ago in Fiction
Hoag’s Object. Runner-Up in Through the Keyhole Challenge.
I had gotten used to the eyes, one after the other, peering constantly through the jagged remains of where a peephole once sat. Stranger’s trying to catch a glimpse of the accused until: This eye, this very eye in particular, that stared with a deep hatred burning into my soul. I knew this red-gold-hazel iris that lit up a room like fire. She was the reason I would be locked in this cabin, a prisoner, until our arrival in Pteetneet City. This is where the proper authorities would step in to arrest me.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Titan. AI-Generated.
Chapter One — The Signal The signal came on a Wednesday. Not that days mattered anymore. The world had long since stopped keeping track. Cities had fallen, the stars above grew brighter without the clutter of satellites, and the earth had begun reclaiming what it once lost to machines and war. Humanity lived in fragments now — scattered settlements clinging to life like moss on stone.
By Saqib Ahmad Sultanabout a year ago in Fiction
One glimpse that unravels everything
I should never have looked. But the keyhole was there — a perfect circle of darkness punched through old brass — and behind it: light, movement, the hush of whispers that did not belong to me. I put my eye to it, because curiosity is just hunger with better manners, and because the house had been kind to me so far: no creaks that weren’t friendly, no shadows that didn’t behave.
By Alain SUPPINIabout a year ago in Fiction
The Night Market That Sells Lost Time
My phone died at 12:01 a.m., and with it went the last excuse not to think. I ducked behind the noodle shop to escape the sideways rain, and the alley stretched longer than it had any right to—neon dragging itself across puddles like spilled paint. A velvet curtain rippled where a brick wall should be. When I pushed through, warm light and citrus air slipped over me like someone else’s coat.
By Atif khurshaidabout a year ago in Fiction
The Cog-Boy of Aethel. AI-Generated.
Baron Von Greed was waiting for them. Cogsworth had expected pursuit, searches, perhaps even mechanical hounds sent to track him through the city's steam-filled streets. He had not expected to find the Baron standing calmly in his carnival quarters, examining the maintenance tools with the casual interest of a man appraising property.
By Shane D. Spearabout a year ago in Fiction
A Knock At The Door . Runner-Up in A Knock at the Door Challenge.
For a while now, it had knocked at my door. Asking for its room key. But I couldn't see its name on the list. As far as I knew, it hadn't rented out a room before. So, I sent it on its way. Told it to try the hotel down the street. I'd heard lots of its friends had stayed there for a night or two.
By Sarah O'Gradyabout a year ago in Fiction
The Finale : Whispers of the Forgotten: A Descent into Eldoria Manor
The Finale Chapter 1 Alistair froze, his hand still raised, the rock still in his grip. The whisper was not in his ears, but in his mind, clear as day. It was the voice of a woman, a profound sadness clinging to every word.
By Tales That Breathe at Nightabout a year ago in Fiction
