Short Story

The Mirror Doesn't Lie📖. AI-Generated.
It started with the mirror. Maya had just moved into her new apartment—a tiny, creaky studio in a rundown building downtown. The place came fully furnished, including an old mirror nailed to the bathroom wall. The landlord told her it was “impossible to remove” and laughed nervously, saying, “It’s been there longer than the plumbing.”
By ElaheMindStoriesabout a year ago in Fiction
Stolen Moments
A successful businesswoman, married to a seemingly perfect man, finds herself falling for a stranger she meets while traveling. Over the course of their brief, stolen moments together, they experience intense emotions, but soon realize that their connection may be part of a larger, deeper scheme that could tear their lives apart.
By Vivids 💖about a year ago in Fiction
For This Summer To End. Runner-Up in The Summer That Wasn’t Challenge. Top Story - July 2025. Content Warning.
The last summer storm brought another foot of water to the normally calm stream. The water gushed passed, branches from toppling trees, and stolen items from the distance campsite being tossed about in its wake. Sitting on the side of the slopped drop-off, a young mother looked down at the once shallow passage. It was usually just more than a trickle – the tiniest of creeks, just deep enough for a child to wet their feet. Not too deep for a mother to worry.
By Connieabout a year ago in Fiction
Message Received?
The campsite was ready by the time the sun touched the horizon, so David, the scoutmaster for the troop, decided that this was a good moment for the announcement.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Fiction
The Woman and the Mirror
Sameena looked into the mirror as she applied her usual nude lipstick—same shade for the past five years. Her black blazer was neatly pressed, her heels polished, and her laptop bag zipped with clockwork precision. Everything in her life had a schedule. Nothing ever slipped.
By Shakoorabout a year ago in Fiction
The Window
She was the single window in the old blue-almost-green house, already a little washed out by time in that monotonous village, where everything seemed to be slowly losing its colour. So she was surprised that her windowsill didn’t get a bit more attention from the people inside the house.
By Erika Lorennaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Beginning Inside Hell
Alaric: Hey, why have you pointed your gun at me? Why did you lock the room's door? Eldric: I locked the door so no one could see me shooting you. I’ve come to kill you. Alaric: Kill me, then kill yourself too. Eldric: Why would I kill myself? I only want to kill you. Alaric: Because you’ll die, even if you don’t shoot yourself. Eldric: How? That’s impossible. Alaric: What do you think — will the bullet kill me, or will you? Eldric: The bullet will kill you, the one fired from my gun. Alaric: Oh, you're a genius. Why do you want to kill me? Eldric: I’ll get rewards in return. Killing an enemy is an act of bravery. My country will be proud of me. Alaric: Do you live just to receive rewards? So people keep giving you rewards — any kind of reward — praise, money etc. People will tell their children tales of your bravery, of how you killed me. You’ll live happily after gaining all this, right? Eldric: Yes. What else does a man need? This is enough to live. Alaric: There's no one in this room except the two of us. If we remain trapped here for life, would you still kill me or keep me alive to entertain yourself? Eldric: No. Never. I’ll never live with my enemy. I will kill you. Alaric: Who all are in your family? Eldric: My wife, two children, my father. My mother passed away when I was young. Who’s in your family? Alaric: There's no one in my family. Everyone died in the war. Anyway, what difference does it make? Your place in someone else's existence doesn't matter at all, it's only you with yourself. Eldric: Don’t you feel sad about losing your family? Alaric: No. I’m alive, so I’m happy. Don’t shoot me, my blood will stain floor, your clothes will get dirty. Maybe your kids will get scared seeing blood on your clothes. So, strangle me instead — you’re strong. Eldric: I will definitely fulfill your wish. Anyway, I won’t waste a bullet on you. Alaric: Want some water? You look really thirsty. Eldric: No. Maybe you’ve poisoned it. Alaric: You’re right. I’ve poisoned it. You're genius. Eldric: Why? Alaric: Don’t know. Eldric: You’re not drinking this water. Alaric: I do drink this water. Eldric: Then why did you poison it? Alaric: Don’t know. Eldric: You're lying. There's no poison in it. Alaric: You can drink it to find out. Eldric: I’m not a fool. But I can say with certainty — there’s no poison in it. Alaric: Its color isn’t like water. There’s poison in it. Eldric: Let me look into it. If there’s poison in water, the color will change. (He bent over to look closely into the glass kept on the table. Alaric snatched the gun from his hand and fired all the bullets into his chest. He laughed loudly.) Alaric: In a locked room, the fight was only to protect one’s existence. You failed. Eldric: You deceived me. Alaric: When did you ever trust me?
By Karan w. about a year ago in Fiction
Eridani Prime Chronicles: Mercy's Shadow Syndicate. Content Warning.
PART : 1 "Shattered Sky" The sun was a blistering, pale orb, obscured by the vast and flickering Solar Shield--Hexodome or Hex, as it came to be called. High above, the illusion of clear blue skies and fluffy white clouds glitched sporadically, revealing the metal panels of the Hex. Below, Ironmarsh surrounded the Eridani Prime Intergalactic Space Station. The city was a mess of rusted buildings and neon lights shrouded in a polluted smog.
By Stephanie Wrightabout a year ago in Fiction
VELVET CIRCUIT. Content Warning.
Lira and Cyras Veyne are power. They are the kind of people you never really see, but you feel the pressure of them everywhere—on billboards, behind tech acquisitions, whispered through after-party smoke.
By Stephanie Wrightabout a year ago in Fiction
The Clock Only Ticks When I Lie
They gave me the clock when I turned twelve. A strange inheritance from my grandmother—old, brass-framed, with hands that shimmered like gold in sunlight.
By Musawir Shahabout a year ago in Fiction
Briar Rose
It was never a curse. Or a spindle. It was a tradition. As old as time itself and far more powerful than true love. Briar Rose entered the forest to escape. She was tired. And the forest was her last change at finding sanctuary from it all. The last women to have come to the forest before her time was her Great Grandmother Aurora. They said she had slept for 100 years before true love finally found her.
By Lane Burnsabout a year ago in Fiction
Impossible Things
(Author's note: I originally posted this story here on Vocal on July 12, 2022. I accidentally deleted the story from my Vocal profile, so I am reposting it now. Although I have an illustrated e-book version on my Patreon, I wanted to keep the free version up as well. I hope you enjoy it!)
By J.M. Elamabout a year ago in Fiction