Short Story
The Green Beer Made Everyone Sick
The house was too big for a high school party. Three floors. Marble counters. A backyard that stretched into darkness. It belonged to Ryan Kessler, star quarterback, golden boy, the kind of guy whose parents were always “out of town.”
By V-Ink Stories4 months ago in Fiction
First day. Honorable Mention in You Had to Be There. Content Warning.
Tiny trembling hands fiddled with the buttons on her dress. They couldn’t stay straight, it was wrinkled. She hated that, she wanted everything to be perfect. She hated to leave her mom, hated to give up the great times watching ‘Bobby’s World’ or ‘Moon Dreamers’ with chocolate milk and bologna sandwiches. She liked them with mustard. She would at least know one person she was going to school with. Her uncle’s friend had a daughter her age and they were best friends. That was a relief. The world flew by as she rode on her mom’s lap in the passenger’s side of her grandpa’s blue S-10. Everything was familiar for now, until they got to the little school. It was already noon and she was glad she didn’t have to wake up early like some of the other kids. Her backpack bounced against her back as she held her mom’s hand as they walked down the giant hallway. This is the first time she would be somewhere alone without her mom or some other family member nearby.
By Raine Fielder4 months ago in Fiction
Messages From the Future
Every message came one day before something terrible happened. At exactly 11:47 PM, Noah’s phone vibrated on the bedside table. Half asleep, he grabbed it and squinted at the screen. A message from an unknown number stared back at him. > Don’t take the train tomorrow. Noah frowned. For a moment, he simply stared at the words, confused. Then he laughed quietly to himself. Probably another stupid prank. He typed back anyway. > Who is this? No answer came. After waiting a minute, he tossed the phone aside and went back to sleep. The next morning, the message barely crossed his mind. The subway station was packed like always. People rushed past each other while rain hammered the streets outside. Noah stood near the edge of the platform, headphones in, scrolling through his phone. Then chaos erupted. A horrible screech echoed through the tunnel. People screamed. The incoming train suddenly jerked sideways before slamming off the tracks. Sparks exploded into the air as metal crushed against concrete. Smoke filled the station within seconds. Noah stumbled backward in shock. His heart pounded violently as he realized something terrifying. If he had stepped forward just a little earlier, he would’ve been standing exactly where the train crashed. That night, he read the message again. And again. And again. --- The second text arrived the following evening. > Don’t let Emma drive home tonight. This time, Noah’s stomach tightened instantly. Emma was his younger sister. He called her without hesitation. “Why are you calling me this late?” she laughed when she answered. “Where are you?” “At Maya’s party.” “Are you drinking?” “A little.” “Emma, listen to me carefully. Don’t drive home tonight.” There was a pause. “You okay?” she asked. “You sound weird.” “Please. Just stay at a friend’s place.” Something in his voice must’ve scared her because she finally agreed. At 2 AM, Noah woke to nonstop notifications on his phone. A drunk driver had caused a massive accident on the highway Emma usually took home. Three people died. Noah sat frozen in bed, staring at the screen while cold fear crawled through his chest. This wasn’t coincidence anymore. Someone was warning him before disasters happened. --- The messages kept coming over the next few weeks. > Avoid the coffee shop on 8th Street tomorrow morning. A gas explosion destroyed it the next day. > Don’t go to work Friday. An electrical fire spread through his office building that afternoon. Each warning saved him. But every message terrified him more. Whoever was texting him knew things before they happened. And Noah was starting to feel like he was losing his mind. --- One night, unable to take it anymore, he finally asked the question that had been haunting him. > Who are you? For the first time, the reply came instantly. > You. Noah stared at the screen. His throat went dry. > What kind of joke is this? The typing bubble appeared again. > I’m you. One year from now. Noah nearly dropped the phone. His breathing became uneven as another message appeared. > I don’t have much time. He sat there in silence, trying to convince himself this had to be fake. But deep down, he already knew it wasn’t. No prank could predict disasters like this. --- Over the next few days, the messages became longer. Future Noah explained that one year later, scientists created technology capable of sending information back through time. At first, it was meant to change the world forever. Then everything went wrong. A disaster destroyed most of the city. Millions died. And somehow, future Noah survived long enough to contact his past self. > I’m trying to stop it before it happens. Noah’s hands trembled as he typed. > Stop what? The answer came seconds later. > Her. --- The next message included an address. An abandoned laboratory outside the city. Noah spent hours debating whether he should go. Every instinct told him this was dangerous. But curiosity finally won. Rain poured heavily the night he arrived. The laboratory looked abandoned for years. Broken windows rattled in the wind while flickering lights glowed faintly inside. Noah stepped carefully through the dark hallway. Then he heard footsteps. A woman emerged from the shadows. She looked exhausted. Pale. Terrified. But Noah recognized her immediately from the news. Dr. Evelyn Cross. The scientist responsible for the time communication experiment. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said quietly. “My future self sent me.” The color disappeared from her face. “You’ve already been receiving the messages?” Noah nodded slowly. Evelyn looked genuinely frightened now. “You need to listen carefully,” she whispered. “The future version of you can’t be trusted.” Noah frowned. “What are you talking about?” Before she could answer, every monitor in the laboratory suddenly flickered on at once. Static filled the room. Then words appeared across the screens. > DON’T TRUST HER. Noah stepped backward in shock. Evelyn’s breathing became panicked. “You don’t understand!” she shouted. “Something happened to him after the experiment!” The lights burst overhead. Darkness swallowed the room. Noah’s phone vibrated in his pocket. One final message appeared on the screen. > She caused the end of everything. Stop her before midnight. Noah slowly looked up. Evelyn reached behind her back. And pulled out a gun. Outside, thunder shook the city. Inside the ruined laboratory, Noah realized the horrifying truth. One of them was lying. His future self. Or the woman standing in front of him. And whichever one he chose to believe… Would decide the fate of the entire world.
By M Uzair Khan (UK)4 months ago in Fiction
The Midnight Caller
Rain hammered against the apartment windows while a young university student sat alone on the couch, staring blankly at her phone. The tiny apartment felt unusually cold that night. Every sound seemed sharper in the silence — the ticking clock on the wall, the wind outside, even the sound of her own breathing. It was just after midnight. She hated nights like this. Ever since moving away from home for university, loneliness had slowly become part of her life. During the day, crowded classrooms and noisy streets kept her distracted. But at night, when her roommates left for the weekend and the apartment became silent, the emptiness felt unbearable. A flash of lightning lit up the room for a split second before darkness returned. Then her phone rang. Unknown Number. She frowned. Nobody ever called this late. For a moment, she thought about ignoring it. But curiosity got the better of her. “Hello?” she answered carefully. Only static replied. A faint crackling sound echoed through the speaker. “Hello?” she repeated, sitting up straighter. Then a voice whispered softly: “Don’t turn around.” Her entire body froze. The voice sounded strange — low, distorted, almost robotic — yet there was something disturbingly human about it. “What?” she asked nervously. The call disconnected. For a few seconds, she simply stared at her screen. Then she let out a weak laugh, trying to calm herself. It had to be a prank call. Maybe one of her classmates trying to scare her. Still, goosebumps slowly spread across her arms. Against her better judgment, she slowly turned around. Nothing. The kitchen was empty. The hallway leading to her bedroom sat in complete darkness. “You’re overthinking,” she whispered to herself. She locked her phone and leaned back against the couch. A minute later, the phone rang again. The same unknown number. This time, her hands trembled before she answered. “What do you want?” Static filled the line once more. Then the voice returned. “I told you not to turn around.” A cold wave of fear rushed through her body. The words felt different this time. The caller had spoken after she turned around earlier. As if he already knew she had done it. As if someone was watching her. Her eyes slowly drifted toward the apartment windows. Rain blurred the outside world, turning the glass into moving shadows. “Who are you?” she demanded, though her voice cracked with fear. The caller ignored the question. “You left your kitchen window open.” She immediately looked toward the kitchen. The window above the sink was slightly open, moving gently with the wind. Her stomach dropped instantly. Nobody should have known that. She hurried to the kitchen and slammed the window shut before locking it tightly. Her breathing became uneven. This wasn’t funny anymore. She grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and held it tightly in her shaking hand. “Listen,” she said into the phone, trying to sound braver than she felt. “If this is some kind of joke, I’m calling the police.” The voice chuckled softly. A dry, lifeless laugh. “You won’t have enough time.” The call ended again. Panicking, she quickly tried calling her best friend, but the moment she pressed the call button, the signal bars on her phone disappeared. No service. “That’s impossible,” she whispered. Outside, thunder shook the sky violently. Then came three slow knocks at the apartment door. Knock. Knock. Knock. She nearly dropped the knife. Every instinct inside her screamed to stay silent. Again. Knock. Knock. Knock. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. Then a man’s voice spoke from outside the door. Soft. Familiar. The exact voice of her father. For one brief second, relief washed over her. But that made no sense. Her father lived hours away. “Dad?” she whispered unconsciously. Then the voice outside laughed. Not her father’s laugh. Something darker. Something wrong. At the same moment, her phone screen lit up by itself. The caller whispered again. “Don’t open the door.” Tears filled her eyes as fear tightened around her chest. “Who are you?” she cried. “What do you want from me?” The answer came instantly. “You already know me.” Suddenly, the apartment lights flickered. Once. Twice. Then complete darkness swallowed the room. She gasped and quickly turned on her phone flashlight with trembling fingers. The weak light barely reached beyond the living room. The knocking had stopped. Now there was only silence. A horrible, unnatural silence. Then she heard it. Footsteps. Inside the apartment. Slow dragging footsteps coming from the hallway near her bedroom. Step. Drag. Step. Drag. “No…” she whispered. Her flashlight shook violently as she pointed it toward the hallway. At first, she saw nothing. Then the light flickered. And a figure appeared at the end of the corridor. Tall. Thin. Its body looked twisted in unnatural ways. Its face remained hidden completely in shadow. Her breathing stopped. The caller whispered again: “He’s behind you.” She spun around instantly. Nothing. But when she turned back toward the hallway, the figure was gone. A loud crash suddenly exploded from somewhere inside the apartment. She screamed and ran into the living room, slamming the door behind her. Something hit the other side immediately. BANG. The entire door shook violently. Another hit. BANG. The wood cracked slightly near the handle. Panicking, she searched desperately for a way out. Her eyes landed on the apartment keys near the couch. If she could just reach the front door— The banging stopped. Complete silence returned. Then the phone whispered one final sentence. “He’s not in the hallway anymore.” Her blood turned ice cold. Slowly… painfully slowly… she looked down beside the couch. Underneath it, hidden in darkness, were two pale eyes staring directly at her. A huge grin stretched across a ghostly white face. The creature crawled out unnaturally fast. She screamed and sprinted toward the apartment door. Her hands shook so badly she could barely unlock it. Behind her came the sound of rapid crawling across the floor. Closer. Closer. Closer. Finally, the lock clicked. She threw the door open— And froze. There was no hallway outside. No apartment building. No city lights. Only endless black darkness stretching forever. The caller spoke one last time. “Nowhere left to run.” Something cold touched her shoulder. Then everything disappeared. --- The next morning, the apartment was found completely empty. No signs of forced entry. No blood. No evidence of a struggle. Only her phone remained on the living room floor. Police investigated the case for weeks but found nothing except one disturbing detail: Her phone records showed seventeen incoming calls from the same unknown number between 12:01 AM and 12:47 AM. The number did not exist. Three months later, another student moved into the apartment. On her first night there, during another violent storm, her phone rang at exactly 12:01 AM. Unknown Number. Curious, she answered. A whisper came through the static. “Don’t turn around.”
By M Uzair Khan (UK)4 months ago in Fiction
From: QuickStop Manager Your shift has been extended.
Marcus had been working at the QuickStop for eight months. It was a small gas station at the edge of town. One pump. One cooler. One bathroom that never locked. The night shift was usually quiet. A few trucks. A few drunks. Nothing scary. But tonight was different. It started at 11:00 PM when a woman in a white car pulled up to Pump 2. She pumped exactly one gallon of gas. Then she walked inside, bought a carton of milk, paid with a $100 bill, and sat down in the corner booth. She hadn't moved since. Just sat there. Staring at the window. Not blinking. Marcus tried to talk to her. She didn't answer. He tried to call his manager. No answer. He tried to call the police. The line was dead. At 1:47 AM, the text arrived. Your shift has been extended. Do not leave. Do not unlock the doors. Marcus walked to the front door and pushed. It didn't open. He pushed harder. Nothing. The lock was broken. The door should have opened. But it didn't. It felt like something heavy was holding it shut from the outside. He looked through the glass. The parking lot was empty. No cars. No people. Just the woman's white car at Pump 2. But the pump was still running. The hose was still in her car. Gasoline was pouring onto the ground. A huge puddle was spreading toward the store. Marcus ran to the back door. Same thing. Locked. Stuck. He couldn't get out. He went back to the front. The woman in the booth hadn't moved. But her milk carton was empty. And her face was different. Her mouth was open wider now. Too wide. Like her jaw had unhinged. "You should sit down," she said. Her voice was low and wet. "They'll be here soon." "Who?" Marcus asked. "Who's coming?" She smiled. Her teeth were black. "The ones who extended your shift." Marcus grabbed his phone. No signal. He tried the landline behind the counter. Dead. He looked at the security camera monitors. Every screen showed the same thing. The front door. The parking lot. The puddle of gas growing wider and wider. Then he saw something on the last screen. Camera 7 pointed at the road. Headlights. A line of headlights. Cars were coming. Dozens of them. All moving slow. All driving toward the station. The first car pulled up. An old sedan. No driver. The door opened by itself. A man got out. He had no face. Just smooth skin where his eyes and nose and mouth should be. He walked to the front door and pressed his blank face against the glass. Then more cars arrived. More faceless people. They surrounded the building. Dozens of them. Pressing their faces against every window. Against the glass door. Their hands slapped the walls. Soft at first. Then harder. Marcus backed away. The woman in the booth stood up. Her body made cracking sounds. "They're here for the shift change," she whispered. "But you're not leaving. No one ever leaves." She walked toward him. Her feet didn't touch the ground. Marcus ran to the cooler. The big walk-in freezer in the back. He pulled the heavy door shut behind him. It was dark. Cold. His breath fogged in the air. Outside, the slapping stopped. Then the front door broke open. He heard hundreds of footsteps. Soft. Wet. Coming closer. The freezer door handle turned. Marcus held his breath. He closed his eyes. The handle stopped turning. Then a voice. Not the woman's voice. A deeper voice. A voice that sounded like gravel and old radio static. "Your shift has been extended indefinitely. The cooler is your new booth. Welcome to QuickStop. Population: you." The lights went out. And somewhere outside, the gas pump was still running.
By Esmat Zafari4 months ago in Fiction
Effie & Simon
She's in my bed again. I'm sat here on the sofa. I'll sleep here, once I'm done, and it won't be comfortable, but she's welcome to what little comfort she can take at this point. Bruised again? Maybe. Gaunt, definitely. She's sleeping the restless sleep of the truly exhausted, only to wake up empty.
By L.C. Schäfer4 months ago in Fiction
Fake. Honorable Mention in They Shouldn’t Have Come Here Challenge.
Donnie exhaled roughly as he pulled his car into the church parking lot. He barely noted the church’s tremendous size before he grabbed the wedding invitation from the passenger seat and rushed out of his car.
By Rebecca Patton4 months ago in Fiction
When the Stars Went Silent
When the Stars Went Silent The night the stars disappeared, the world forgot how to sleep. At first, nobody noticed. People were too busy staring at their phones, rushing through crowded streets, sitting in noisy cafés, and chasing endless responsibilities. Hardly anyone looked at the sky anymore. So when darkness arrived one evening without a single star above it, most people continued their lives like nothing had happened. But by midnight, everything changed. Social media exploded with panic. Millions of people uploaded pictures of the empty sky. Scientists turned telescopes upward in confusion. News channels interrupted regular programs with emergency broadcasts. Every star in the sky was gone. Not hidden behind clouds. Not covered by pollution. Gone completely. Seventeen-year-old Elias sat on the roof of his apartment building in the quiet town of Greyford, staring upward in disbelief. A cold wind brushed against his face while an old blanket rested over his shoulders. Above him stretched an endless black sky. Empty. Wrong. Ever since he was a child, Elias had loved the stars. His mother used to sit beside him at night and point toward constellations, turning them into stories before he fell asleep. “That one,” she would whisper softly, “is a lonely king searching for his lost kingdom.” “And that one?” Elias would ask excitedly. “A girl carrying light through the darkness.” Back then, the stars had felt alive. Now the sky felt dead. Behind him, the rooftop door slowly creaked open. “You’re still awake?” Elias turned to see his younger sister Lily holding two cups of tea. Her oversized brown sweater hung loosely over her small shoulders. “You should be sleeping,” Elias muttered. “You should stop acting like my dad,” she replied quietly. She handed him a cup and sat beside him. For several moments, neither of them spoke. The town below felt strange tonight. No music. No laughter. No cars. Only silence. Fear had changed everything. “Do you think the stars will come back?” Lily finally asked. Elias kept staring upward. “I don’t know.” But deep inside, he felt something far worse than fear. It felt like the darkness itself was watching them. --- Days turned into weeks. And slowly, the world began falling apart. People stopped sleeping properly. Depression spread everywhere. Hospitals filled with patients suffering from panic attacks and terrible nightmares. Some people claimed they heard whispers in the darkness at night. Others swore they saw shapes moving across the empty sky. Religious leaders called it the end of the world. Scientists called it an unexplained cosmic disaster. Children cried themselves to sleep every night. And somehow, the darkness above seemed heavier with each passing day. Then Elias’s mother disappeared. One morning, she was simply gone. No goodbye. No message. No explanation. Only an unfinished cup of coffee beside the kitchen window. Police searched for weeks but found nothing. It was as if the darkness had swallowed her whole. After that, Elias stopped going to school. He barely spoke to anyone except Lily. Most nights, he wandered through the silent streets or sat alone on rooftops staring at the empty sky, trying to understand why losing the stars hurt so much. One cold evening, while walking near the abandoned train station, Elias noticed something strange. A faint silver glow flickered behind the broken building. Curious, he followed it. There, standing in the shadows, was an old woman holding a lantern. But the lantern held no fire. Inside it shimmered something impossible. Starlight. Elias froze. The woman looked at him with pale gray eyes. “You can still see it,” she whispered. “See what?” Elias asked nervously. “The light.” His heart pounded. “What happened to the sky?” The old woman stared at him silently for a moment before speaking. “The stars did not disappear,” she said softly. “They fell silent.” Elias frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand.” The woman gently lifted the lantern. “For thousands of years, the stars watched humanity. They saw your wars, your greed, and your cruelty… but they also saw your love, your dreams, your music, and your hope.” Her voice grew quieter. “But humans stopped looking upward. They forgot wonder. They forgot kindness. They forgot each other.” The silver light inside the lantern flickered weakly. “And the stars grew tired of shining for a world that no longer cared.” Elias stared at her silently. “That can’t be true.” “Can’t it?” She stepped closer. “Tell me, boy… when was the last time you truly looked at the sky before the stars vanished?” Elias opened his mouth to answer. But no words came out. Because she was right. Most people had stopped looking long ago. The old woman carefully placed the lantern into his hands. “If you want the stars to return,” she whispered, “people must remember the light inside themselves first.” Suddenly, a powerful wind swept through the station. Elias covered his eyes for only a second— —and when he looked again, the woman was gone. Only the lantern remained in his trembling hands. --- That night changed everything. Elias began carrying the lantern everywhere he went. At first, people laughed at him. But slowly, strange things started happening around its silver glow. People stopped arguing. Neighbors who had ignored each other for years began sharing meals together. Children smiled again. Even Lily’s nightmares disappeared. Soon, word spread across Greyford about “the boy with the starlight lantern.” Every evening, crowds gathered in the town square. Instead of staring at screens, people talked to one another. They laughed. They told stories. They sang songs beneath the empty sky. And for the first time since the stars vanished, the darkness no longer felt so cold. Then one night, a little girl suddenly pointed upward. “Look!” Everyone froze. High above the town, a tiny star flickered weakly in the darkness. People gasped. Some cried openly. Others fell to their knees. Elias looked down at the lantern in his hands. The silver light inside it burned brighter than ever before. And in that moment, he finally understood. The stars had never abandoned humanity. Humanity had abandoned wonder. Slowly, more stars began appearing across the sky like forgotten memories returning home. The darkness cracked apart. Around the world, people ran outside to witness the miracle. Families sat together beneath the night sky again. Strangers hugged in the streets. Entire cities turned off their lights just to see the stars more clearly. And above them all, the heavens shone brighter than ever before. Beside him, Lily smiled through tears as she looked upward. “They came back,” she whispered. Elias smiled softly. “No,” he replied. “We did.”
By M Uzair Khan (UK)4 months ago in Fiction
Mercy on Maple Street. Top Story - May 2026.
This was now the fifth night I felt it. That tinge in the air. The unmistakable feeling of being watched. Every night for three months, I had no choice but to walk home. That's how long it'd been since Dax left. Three whole months. And now, he was enjoying the college experience while I was still stuck in this shit town delivering waffles and mediocre coffee to bigoted customers.
By SUEDE the poet4 months ago in Fiction
