Short Story

The People Who Were Never Born
Dr. Ethan Clarke had never believed in alternate realities. A man grounded in logic, physics, and the unyielding laws of nature. But on one quiet November evening, in the stillness of his lab in Boston, everything he believed about the universe shattered.
By F. M. Rayaanabout a year ago in Fiction
Dodge Versus possibly the most Deadly, Implacable, Foe yet.... Administrative Paperwork.
The trouble started the moment Dodge Tanner walked into Wayfinder Headquarters, the air thick with the scent of old parchment, ink, and the faint, oppressive musk of mind-numbing misery. He had joked, on more than one occasion—that paperwork was a blight upon the world, a slow-acting poison that emptied the brain & drained the soul with every quill stroke. Today, however, he was not joking.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a year ago in Fiction
A Village Where People Age Backwards
In the remote highlands, far from highways and headlines, there stood a hidden place where time bent like the wind - Windell, a village not marked on any map. It was a quiet place, nestled among mist-covered mountains and fed by a glacial river so pure it shimmered silver at dusk.
By Emma Adeabout a year ago in Fiction
My Husband Divorced Me...
Sarah’s world plunged into darkness. Her husband, Asad, the man who had once promised her eternal love, suddenly divorced her one morning without warning. His words were cold, final:
By Usamaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Baker Who Discovers Her Cakes Can Control People’s Dreams
In the heart of the sleepy town of Windmere stood a little bakery called Sugar & Spell, nestled between a forgotten antique shop and a florist who only sold white roses. Owned by an unassuming woman named Elira Bell, the shop had become a local favorite. Not just because her cakes were delicious, but because they made you feel… different.
By Emma Adeabout a year ago in Fiction
Against All Odds: The Journey That Changed Everything
I remember the day my world fell apart. It was a chilly morning in late October when the call came. My doctor’s voice was calm, almost too calm. “You have stage three lymphoma,” he said. “But we caught it early enough to fight it.” My body went numb. I was 32, healthy, active, full of plans. Cancer wasn’t supposed to be part of my story.
By Rohullahabout a year ago in Fiction
From Rock Bottom to Radiance: My Journey Through Darkness into Light
I never imagined my life would unravel so completely. One day I was managing deadlines, sipping coffee in my neatly organized office, and planning a vacation I probably didn’t need. The next, I was sitting alone in a tiny apartment I could barely afford, surrounded by silence that screamed louder than any city noise ever could.
By Rohullahabout a year ago in Fiction
The Man Comes Around
The second name on the list was David Armistice. His own name. - There was nothing remarkable about David Armistice. Except a gash beneath his left eye—a parting gift from some bar owner he brawled with.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Fiction
In The Mind Of The Beast
In the mind of the beast 'I see her. Every day. Every morning.' It was casual at first, and then he got lost in it. 'Her strides are so elegant she seems to glide. God’s very own Mona Lisa. Art in motion. The only vestige of Eve, handmade by God himself. A human hourglass, modelled to perfection. Lilliputian and modern. Skin smooth and radiant like paint on a new car. I would drink my milk off her. Caramel-coloured and flavoured skin. If the sun’s radiance were a dress, it wouldn’t look better on anybody else.’
By Mischief Muchanetaabout a year ago in Fiction
The black door to my living room
When I first moved into the old house on Ferelith Lane, I didn’t notice anything strange. It was a quiet, crooked little home, settled among yellowed trees that whispered more than rustled. The realtor had spoken too quickly and never looked me in the eyes. I assumed the price was low because of the location or the cracked foundation or the way the walls occasionally wept cold from unseen pores.
By E. hasanabout a year ago in Fiction
One Last Caress . Content Warning.
There is nothing like taking a life. He remembered exactly how the man looked after: how the bones bent in ways they shouldn’t, how the bruises slowly, delectably, crawled out of the yellow skin, but the mouth…the mouth he remembered the most. For an orifice always in motion, it always followed a certain structure. Speaking, chewing, fucking, it always had an expected shape. But the way his victim lay there, mouth slack and ajar, without form, framed by the faintest trickle of lush crimson…that stirred Michael in a way he didn’t know was possible.
By Matthew J. Frommabout a year ago in Fiction
"The Whispering Oak"
An ancient oak stands hollowed by time but steadfast in its posture in the middle of a ruined field. Lichen grows like velvet across its bark. A moth sleeps inside, its centuries-long dreams flecked with dust on its wings. Mice build their homes in the roots, weaving stories and dry leaves for warmth. Dandelion seeds float past like pale ghosts. The wind hums a hymn no human knows the words to anymore.
By AlaTrendabout a year ago in Fiction