Short Story

The Cryptic House Cleaner: Phantom or Man?
In the curious town of Willowbrook, settled while moving slopes and rich vegetation, there stood a fabulous manor covered in secret. Tales whirled among the residents about the cryptic figure who stayed inside its walls - a servant whose presence appeared to oppose clarification. Some murmured that she was a phantom, sentenced to meander the corridors forever, while others guaranteed she was simply an isolated loner, favoring the isolation of the house to the organization of others. This is the bewildering story of the house cleaner of Willowbrook Estate and the mission to reveal the reality behind her character.
By Ashok3 years ago in Fiction
Single Man Room Shocking tale
In the clamoring city of Mumbai, amid the confusion of metropolitan life, there exists a broken-down apartment complex with a dim history. Room 13, settled on the highest level, holds an evil mystery that has for some time been murmured among the occupants. Stories of unexplained peculiarities and chilling experiences have tormented its tenants, creating a shaded area of dread over the once vivacious structure. This is the spine-shivering story of Room 13 and the detestations that prowl inside its walls.
By Ashok3 years ago in Fiction
Chinna Kuthuru Shocking Tales
In the core of the country, India lies a failed-to-remember town by the name of Chinna Kuthuru. Concealed amid thick woods and fog-covered slopes, it harbors a mystery that has been murmured regarding for ages. Stories of ghastliness and the powerful have tormented the locals for quite a long time, passed down starting with one age and then onto the next like a dim legacy. In any case, as time walks on and advancement infringes upon antiquated customs, the narratives of Chinna Kuthuru risk blurring into a lack of definition, lost to the steady walk of progress. This is a brief look into the creepy fables and spine-chilling legends that have kept the residents of Chinna Kuthuru conscious around evening time, shuddering out of dread and anxiety toward the unexplored world.
By Ashok3 years ago in Fiction
The Snow Angel
"It's a pattern that you make in the snow when you lie down. You move your arms and your legs like you're doing a Jumping Jack and when you get up the shape of an angel is in the snow."
By Rachel Deeming3 years ago in Fiction
My Mistake
“It hurts more when someone gets scolded because of your mistake than you are getting scolded, and the pain increases when they are your loved ones.”
By Arjun Sahasya3 years ago in Fiction
Adrift
Soft snow crunching under my bare feet. A cold wind encasing my naked body and whipping my hair about my head. Another step, and my bones become numb. The tingling raking through from head to toe making it hard to breathe. Was I breathing, or was it simply the idea of it? I was not aware to the feeling, if my chest was heaving at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Another step, and I’m taking in the trees around me. Barren except for the heavy snow that coated the bare dead branches. The blizzard swelled around them and hid their tops from view; the shapes of their canopy drawing into a blur of darkness. Ahead of me is a vast expanse of white wilderness and a shadow, shorter than the rest. It protrudes from the vast expanse of snow with two limbs stretched out like someone waiting for an embrace. The arms waved and I felt a pull towards them. They seemed welcoming. They seemed familiar. Another step, and I made out the distinction in their body. The slimness of their neck, the faint whipping of hair, the separation in their legs as they stood there trying to steady themselves. Their features were still too dark to make out. A step, and I could make out the shape of their head. Another showed me the blue of their eyes. Step, and I could reach out to touch them, before falling into the cold, snowy darkness.
By Gunnar Anderson3 years ago in Fiction
Drifts
“How many miles over the last fifty years of winters do you think I’ve shoveled, Emily?” JD watched as flakes fell. “You asking me just to count the snow or everything else that has come out of your mouth?”
By Glenn Brown3 years ago in Fiction
A Dishwasher and a Barbarian
George had a robust, whimsical imagination, which was fortuitous since most of his life revolved around an endless routine of wash, rinse, dry, and repeat.
By MatthewKusza3 years ago in Fiction
The Power of the Love Letter
In the quiet corner of an old bookstore, Sarah often found herself seeking refuge among the rows of dusty shelves and the soft glow of antique lamps. The scent of aged paper and leather enveloped her like a familiar embrace, offering solace from the chaos of the outside world.
By M.Fiaz3 years ago in Fiction
Lollipop Dreams. Top Story - February 2024.
I glared at the ticket placed before me until the typed numbers appeared to be nothing more than squiggles. Tobacco wafted through the dusty air of my cramped apartment. The kitchen faucet dripped; each drop of water vibrating in my ears. Picking up the worn slip of paper with shaking hands, I flipped it over, quickly reading the claim written in bold ink:
By Isabella Rose3 years ago in Fiction
Above the Mantle
This rack is prison. This wall is a prison. Perched over a roaring fire, staring at the same walls day after miserable day. No sky, no fields. No danger.
By Alan Matthews3 years ago in Fiction
Feelings!
“Why don’t people understand my feelings? Why don’t they see the situation from my perspective? Why do they say change the mood or why are you sad when they know everything? Do they want to hurt me again? Are my feelings a tree and they are a lumberjack constantly striking axe? Does my sadness mean nothing to them? Am I a piece of paper and they are a kid turning me into pieces? I am crying, is this the reason behind their laugh? I was good to them, was this my fault? Why do they laugh when I cry?” I questioned.
By Muhammad Saad3 years ago in Fiction