Series
"Whispers Of Magic". AI-Generated.
Kael’s heart hammered as the shadow behind him stirred into something more — a figure cloaked in darkness, eyes gleaming like cold stars. But before fear could root him to the spot, a soft voice echoed inside his mind. “Trust the light within.”
By EchoesOnPaperabout a year ago in Fiction
One More Friday Night
He could hear the pounding of feet from behind. The muffled sounds of screaming and yelling. His heart pounded through his chest, and blood pumped strong through his veins. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a black-and-white figure trying to keep pace. This only accelerated his own stride, causing him to run upright at an alarming speed. He loved this feeling. It was part exhilaration, part fear, and part violence. The rush of brisk air hitting his face through the metal cage he wore. This was how he found acceptance, how he made friends, and one of the only places he ever found peace. As he continued to pull away, he could see his goal. The crowd grew louder. The orange pylon was just feet away...
By Clifford Kincaidabout a year ago in Fiction
A Friend
Have you ever met a true friend and then realized that the day you first met would be the last. That’s the way it was with me and Nightingale. I never found out his first name, but it didn’t matter. All of his friends only called him Nightingale. Let me tell you how we met.
By David E. Perryabout a year ago in Fiction
"Leave The Light On"
He's been waiting at his post for three hours. The sun has now set. Fully loaded bins line the street. Garbage day tomorrow. Loose papers from those who overfill their stack adorn the road. A busted fence. Laundry on the line in the front yard. Two dogs barking on the return. One by one, cigarettes lit and adorn the ashtray. Sitting. Waiting. A series of families out walking their dogs. A young couple, woman clearly pregnant, stop to take selfies. The sun sets. The street goes quiet. A third and final redbull. The key turns, an engine rattles. It's time to make a statement. It's time to get this pricks head out of the dirt.
By Scott Catheryabout a year ago in Fiction
Who's the real monster?. Content Warning.
It's been the same nightmare for over 10 years now. Reliving the night I lost every thing that ever mattered to me. When I jumped off the roof of the hospital I thought it would lead to my death instead of entering the shadows of the world.
By Lucy Torralbaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Borrowed Time
The Worst Morning Ever Leo Winters was having the worst morning of his entire life. He missed the school bus. He spilled chocolate milk on his math homework. His big science project—the volcano—fell apart. And when he got to school (late), his best friend Olivia was mad at him because he forgot to save her a seat at lunch yesterday. “Can this day just end already?” he groaned, flopping down under the jungle gym at recess. But then he heard a voice say: “Would you like to borrow an hour?” Man The voice came from an old man sitting on a nearby bench. He wore a gray suit, shiny black shoes, and had a small silver pocket watch in one hand. Leo stared. “Borrow… what?” The man smiled like he’d been waiting for Leo. “Time, of course. You can borrow an hour from tomorrow. Use it to fix today. Or redo something. Or even skip a part you don’t like.” Leo blinked. “You mean, like… I get extra time today?” The man nodded. “One hour. But you must return it by sundown tomorrow. Time doesn’t like being short.” Leo laughed. “Is this a prank?” The man flipped the watch open and held it out. Tick. Tick. Tick. Leo took it. And everything changed. As soon as Leo took the watch, the world froze. Everyone stopped moving. Even the birds in the sky looked like stickers glued to the air. Leo could move freely. He ran back home, fixed his volcano project, rewrote his homework, and even put Olivia’s favorite cookie in her lunchbox as a surprise. When he clicked the watch again, the world resumed. And everything started going perfectly. He wasn’t late. His project got an A. Olivia smiled and said, “You’re the best!” And for the first time ever… Leo felt ahead of the day. Borrowed Time The next day, Leo found the watch still in his pocket. He couldn’t help it—he used it again. And again the next day. And the next. He borrowed hours to: Study for tests he forgot about Sneak in extra sleep Fix arguments before they started Even redo video game levels he messed up Every time, life got easier. And cooler. But one night, he forgot to return the hour. It was cloudy. The sunset was hidden. He figured, “I’ll just give it back tomorrow.” He shouldn’t have done that. The First Crack That morning, Leo woke up to find his reflection smiling at him… before he smiled. He rubbed his eyes. Weird. At school, Olivia said, “You already told me that,” even though he hadn’t. He tried to use the watch—but it was ticking backwards. Fast. And the next hour he borrowed? Felt shorter. Like it lasted only 40 minutes. The Time Collector That night, the old man appeared again—this time, in Leo’s bedroom. He wasn’t smiling. “You’re in time-debt, Leo,” he said. “You owe seven hours. Time is… not pleased.” “I’ll return them!” Leo said quickly. “Just tell me how.” “It’s not that simple anymore. You’ve used what wasn’t yours. Now the time you borrowed… will try to collect you.” “What does that mean?” But the man vanished. And Leo’s clock hands started spinning on their own. Skipped The next day, things got stranger. His breakfast vanished from the plate before he touched it. At school, he blinked—and suddenly it was math class, with no memory of lunch. Olivia said he ignored her at recess, but he wasn’t even there. Time was skipping him—taking back chunks of his life. He tried to stay awake that night, but it was no use. The watch ticked loudly. He closed his eyes for one second… …and woke up two days later. The Hourglass Room Desperate, Leo opened the watch’s back and found a tiny map etched inside. Following it led him to the town’s oldest clock tower. Inside, behind a dusty curtain, was a door. He stepped through—and found himself in a huge, glowing room filled with floating hourglasses. Some big. Some small. Some nearly empty. In the center was a massive one with his name etched in the glass. Sand poured from the top faster than it should. Suddenly, shadows in the shape of clocks crept forward. Time was alive. And it wanted him. The Deal Just as the shadows reached for him, the Watch Man appeared again. “You must give something back,” he said. “An hour is worth more than you know.” Leo thought hard. “Take my lunch breaks!” he begged. “Take my Saturdays!” “No,” said the man. “Not trades. Sacrifice. Choose a memory. Something you love.” Leo’s eyes filled with tears. “My birthday party,” he whispered. “The one when I turned 10. You can have it.” The Watch Man nodded. One hourglass vanished. The sand slowed. And the shadows backed away. Returned Leo woke up at home. Everything felt… normal. The watch was gone. He rushed to Olivia. “Do you remember my 10th birthday? The cake that looked like a dragon?” She blinked. “You never had a dragon cake.” His heart sank. It had worked. The hour was gone forever. But so was the memory. He had paid back time. Epilogue: The Lesson Leo never saw the Watch Man again. But sometimes, when a day feels too long, he remembers what it cost to make time stretch. Now, he just lives it. Even the bad days. Because time is a gift—not something to borrow. And he’s never late for sunset. Ever again.
By Lucien Hollow about a year ago in Fiction
Red Spindle, Burning Blue
The rebels moved like ghosts they were silent, pale shapes swallowed by the smoke-stained corridors of the Red Spindle. Their boots barely touched the scorched floor, gliding through flickering light and digital dust, remnants of a world that once pulsed with power. Faces masked, eyes sharp, they slipped between the skeletal remains of machines like whispers through a dying network. Fear kept them fluid. Training kept them quiet. But it was the hope, the fragile kind that clings to the edges of impossible missions that made them relentless. They had come for the myth at the core of the ruin. And every breath they took felt like it might be their last. Silent, fast, afraid. It was the year 2999 and they had survived. The Fold. The famine. The Kinetic Plague.
By Toni Du Plooyabout a year ago in Fiction
The Ace of Spades Murders-1st Part
Chapter 1: The Body in the Alley The fog rolled in from the harbor, thick and suffocating, swallowing the neon glow of Blackwood City’s streets. Detective James Callahan hated nights like this—the kind where the air clung to his skin like a second layer, where every shadow seemed to shift just beyond his vision.
By Md. Muzammal Rahman Pirabout a year ago in Fiction
Small Town USA #4
Ok, let me back up and explain why I’m so passionate about lighting off my own fireworks. And no, I don’t think every Tom, Dick, and Sally should be allowed to light their own. Let’s be honest — fireworks are dangerous. And they’re even more dangerous when they fall into the wrong hands, especially adults with alcohol. Sometimes even the “good kids” do stupid shit when left unsupervised. Especially a group of prepubescent boys growing up in a small Eastern Washington town in the late 1980s.
By Clifford Kincaidabout a year ago in Fiction
