Short Story

The Knock that Woke Me. Content Warning.
*Trigger Warning: Home Invasion and Death of a Pet * A knock. Was it really a knock? Could it have been merely a left over fragment of a dream mistaken for reality?
By Penina Pohl12 months ago in Fiction
Unexpected Reunion
A series of hesitant taps at the door yanked Kirah out of her doze. She paused before sitting up. Had that really happened, or had she half-dreamed it? Was it her door or her neighbor’s?
By Phoenixica2412 months ago in Fiction
Drum of the Door. Honorable Mention in A Knock at the Door Challenge.
I thought I was alone, but the drum of the door is loud in the quiet. My ears must pardon as it is not the door's fault. What a wooden beauty. Deep red and polished it stands locked and latched to the frame. It almost allows a person to stare at it all day, get blissfully lost, and call themselves an art enthusiast. Almost. Oh how that door has saved me. So many times that pounding of the drum has come and gone, sticks of great force and human flesh. Yet I have remained safe inside. However, this instance has the little hairs on my back trying to flee. No three knocks separated by a short intermission, no knocking in a combination, no secret knock, no single confident knock, and no muffled screaming to get my attention. This time the order is horrendous, and the hits dramatically increase and decrease in intensity with no tell. Why are they not aborting this attempt? I tiptoe over to the wooden beauty. It is as if the door is unsteady and pushing itself farther from me, and my heart can't take the pace. What lurks beyond?
By Ashley Wrigley12 months ago in Fiction
The General’s Greed and the Price of Betrayal
The Bargain for Prosperity A Tale of Greed, Guilt, and Redemption Madiha Zaka Bhatti --- The Commander-in-Chief of Malikistan’s army rode proudly through the bustling city with his soldiers, as he did every morning. The streets echoed with the clatter of hooves, and the people bowed respectfully as he passed. He was a man of authority, discipline, and national pride — but also of quiet vanity. As they neared the main bazaar, the general’s sharp eyes caught sight of a beggar standing in a corner, staring fixedly at him. There was something strange about that man — a certain glimmer in his eyes that held the general’s gaze. The beggar slowly approached. “What do you want?” the general demanded sternly. The beggar smiled faintly. After a moment’s silence, he whispered, “If you seek prosperity, come to my hut in the northern woods tonight.” Before the general could respond, the beggar turned and disappeared into the crowd. The general shook off the odd encounter and rode on, dismissing the man’s words as nonsense. --- Weeks passed. The general’s life went on peacefully — until one evening, his wife spoke, her voice sharp with desire. “I want a palace-like home,” she said. “All your fellow officers live in grand houses, yet we still live in this old one.” “My dear,” he sighed, “I can’t build a palace with my current salary.” But she persisted — day after day, week after week. Finally, frustrated and weary, the general remembered the beggar’s words: ‘If you seek prosperity…’ That night, under a silver moon, he saddled his horse and rode toward the northern forest. After a long ride, he saw a faint light flickering through the trees — a small hut stood there. He tied his horse and entered. The same beggar sat inside, his face calm, almost knowing. “I knew you would come,” said the beggar with a smile. The general’s voice trembled slightly. “You said you could bring me prosperity. My wife desires a palace.” The beggar opened a wooden chest beside him. Inside were four leather pouches overflowing with gold coins. “I can give you not just these,” the beggar said, “but a thousand more — in exchange for a single task.” The general’s eyes widened. “A thousand bags of gold? For one task? Tell me what it is!” The beggar’s tone hardened. “You must deliver to me some of your country’s military secrets.” The general stepped back, his face turning pale. “What! Are you mad? Who are you?” “Do not question,” the beggar said coldly. “Prosperity never comes without a price. So, do we have a deal?” The general hesitated — torn between greed and duty. Finally, temptation won. He nodded slowly. The next day, he handed over confidential documents. --- Days went by. The general’s wife rejoiced at their new mansion, unaware of the dark bargain behind it. But inside, the general felt restless. Guilt gnawed at him. He began seeing the same dream every night — a shadow covering the sun, darkness descending upon him. One night, trembling with fear, he rode to the royal astrologer’s house. The old man opened the door, startled to see the commander standing there at midnight. “Your Excellency? What brings you here so late?” “I’ve had the same dream again and again,” the general said anxiously. “Tell me its meaning.” The astrologer listened carefully, then spoke solemnly: “It means you will see the sky for only three more days… and then—” “That’s enough!” the general interrupted. “I understand.” He turned and left abruptly. --- At dawn, he rushed to the palace. “Your Majesty,” he said to the king, bowing low, “I must confess before I die.” The king frowned. “What are you saying?” “I was blinded by greed. I sold our nation’s secrets to the enemy. They are preparing for war.” The king rose in fury. “You betrayed your country! Guards! Take him away! He shall be executed publicly tomorrow.” As the guards dragged him away, the general cried, “Give me one chance to atone for my sin! Let me fight the enemy myself. I know their plans. Only I can stop them!” The king hesitated — then nodded. “Very well. But my soldiers will keep watch over you.” --- For three days and nights, the war raged fiercely. The general fought with unmatched bravery, leading charge after charge. On the third day, the enemy was crushed. Bruised and exhausted, the general returned to the palace. The king looked at him solemnly. “Though you deserve death, your courage has redeemed you. Your execution is canceled. Instead, you shall spend one year in the dark well as punishment.” The general bowed. “But… I was supposed to die today. The astrologer said so!” The king replied, “Death is inevitable for every man. If you had remembered that before your betrayal, you might never have sinned. Why wait to see death before fearing it?” His words fell like thunder in the silent hall. --- As guards led the general away, he saw the royal astrologer standing nearby and asked bitterly, “So your prediction was wrong?” The astrologer shook his head. “No, Commander. You heard only half of it. I said you would see the sky for three more days — and then…” He paused, then continued, “You left before I finished. The full meaning was: You will see the sky for three days, and after that, you will live for a long time in a place where no sunlight reaches.” The general’s face fell as realization dawned. The astrologer was right — the dark well awaited him. --- Moral: When man forgets his mortality, greed blinds him. But the remembrance of death purifies the soul and brings true redemption.
By Ubaid 12 months ago in Fiction
Little School of Horrors
Knock, knock knock! No one had knocked on my door for eight years. Now, the rapping is loud, insistent. Its echo stirs my desolate corridors. I used to hear laughter. And shouting, and whispers too. I comforted occasional weeping in a quiet corner, and I sheltered little people from rain. I was their ship that sailed them to a future of letters, numbers, creativity; I was a conduit for friendships, connections, and finished projects.
By Teresa Renton12 months ago in Fiction
The Door Persists
In the incandescent evanescence, my state of existence I hear the drumming of knuckles on sandstone. Every hour, on the hour.
By Paul Stewart12 months ago in Fiction
Stranger At The Door
The door shook, and dust flew into the room. The little cabin was shaking as Annie ran to the door. "Give me some time, I will be right there," Annie stated.
By Sarah Danaher12 months ago in Fiction
Tiny Bites
The smell of her mouth lingers on me like wet cherries turned sour. I come back to this when I feel discarded and wonder if her family can pick up this same primal scent when they are around her, walking the theme park in hurried strides, vying for the promised fun amidst the heat and swelling crowds. She only comes to me when she's unraveling, when the forced smiles and sunburnt laughter have scraped her too thin. I wait for her in the fitness center, our only sanctuary, where her family's needs can't reach her.
By Cali Loria12 months ago in Fiction
The Knock Before Dawn
The morning began like any other. The kettle whistled, the clock ticked, and the soft hum of a gospel tune drifted through the small kitchen.
By Rebecca Daugherty12 months ago in Fiction
The Fairy Herder
Francis knew three truths about herself before she ever left the boundaries of the Evans' backyard: she was small, she was swift, and she was meant for something the humans couldn't see.
By Caleb Lahr12 months ago in Fiction
Chronic Wellness
Maybe there's nothing more depressing in the whole world than an English city on a dull, wet day in early February. The sky heaves grey and bored. With nothing better to do, it acts like a sort of meteorological burger press. Londoners scurry beneath it, but they can't escape it's crushing inevitability.
By L.C. Schäfer12 months ago in Fiction
When the Stars Forgot to Shine
The night it happened, the world didn’t notice at first. The stars simply… didn’t come. No one could explain it. The moon hung lonely and pale in the dark sky, surrounded by emptiness. Astronomers called it a “temporary celestial blackout.” Poets called it “the night heaven turned its face.” But to Mira, it felt like a reflection of her own fading light.
By Muhammad zahoor12 months ago in Fiction