Short Story
8th Move
Nico had never won a chess game against his grandfather. It wasn’t for lack of trying. He studied openings, memorized gambits, practiced endgames. He watched matches online, read dusty strategy books his grandfather kept on the shelf, and played against AI simulations that didn’t smile when they won. But the old man—silent, sharp, and frustratingly calm—always found a way to counter. Every move Nico made was a lesson, every loss a lecture without words.
By Alpha Cortex2 years ago in Fiction
A Silent Language
The first time Lena saw him, he was sitting alone on the park bench with a sketchpad in his lap. She passed by that bench every afternoon on her walk home, but that day something slowed her steps. Maybe it was the way the sun hit his dark curls, or how still he sat, like the world around him didn’t touch him at all.
By Alpha Cortex2 years ago in Fiction
Broken Dreams and Pony Screams. Content Warning.
It was Sunday and raining. It was April, 1822. My father was teaching me how to ride a horse through the mud. He said it was dangerous in New York for a young lady such as myself, being both beautiful and wealthy, not to know how to ride a horse. I might need to escape aggressive, or worse, peasant suitors.
By Alex H Mittelman 2 years ago in Fiction
My Paddle into the Sea’s Mysteries
Sometimes, words are not enough to explain certain moments. You feel scared that if you use words, you might strip them of their magic. That’s why, at certain moments, I never care to share. I keep it locked deep down in my heart.
By Ana Heavens2 years ago in Fiction
Lamia. Top Story - April 2025. Content Warning.
“She’s the first?” Mona asked the Doctor. “She is,” Dr. Brody nodded with a smile. “And it’s safe?” Mona asked, wringing her hands together. Judith Brody M.D. had dreamed of this day since she was a child. Finally, something good could come from her obsession. The obsession she’d had ever since that monster had destroyed her family and had nearly taken her life.
By Raine Fielder2 years ago in Fiction
Dollhouse
Content Warning: Kidnapping and torture. Dollhouse D.A. Ratliff A Detective Elijah Boone Mystery Where could she go? She could barely see through the driving rain. Her heart pounded in her chest. Keep running. She had to keep running. So many dark houses, no one to help. She slipped on the wet grass and fell over a tricycle, landing hard on her right shoulder and knee. Pain raced through her body, and she stifled a moan. Be quiet. There were kids here. He said he wanted kids to play with. Danger. She pushed up with her left arm and tried to run, but her knee buckled. Can’t stay here. Had to move, had to get away. In agony with each step, she found a path between houses and moved as fast as she could. A street—she could follow the street. As she stepped off the curb, a bright glare blinded her, then darkness.
By D. A. Ratliff2 years ago in Fiction
