Short Story

Detective Wolfman. Content Warning.
January 1st, 1925 might have been the start of a new year for The Wolfman, but not for most people. Most people were stuck in their old ways, getting lost in stories and rumors from the 1800’s selling everyone the same old narrative that The Wolfman was bad. Most people were wrong. Dead wrong. Detective Wolfman was determined to forge his own fate and prove he was a good guy, once and for all.
By Alex H Mittelman 2 years ago in Fiction
Green
There used to be twenty or thirty other kids here with us. I don't know where they went. They just... Go. There's a place near here. Not long after we first got here, I went there quite a lot. You walk across the meadow and there's a deserted road. Beyond that, there's a slope, and at the bottom, a green, just like the one back home. Wide and velvety smooth as if Mr Peters had been along and mowed it.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
YOU'RE ALL MINE - ch 31
YOU’RE ALL MINE - ch 31 (the magic of Midnight) ^ ^ Mia placed a gentle hand on her father’s rigid arm and spoke quietly. “Dad, hold back. Let me handle this. He directed his hate at me and I’m going to diffuse it.”
By Margaret Brennan2 years ago in Fiction
Dirt and Dregs. Honorable Mention in Legends Rewritten Challenge. Top Story - January 2025.
"What the hell are you doing back here, man?" Dirt and glass crunched as the speaker, a slim fellow dressed in a clean, gray three-piece, slowly approached a pile of garbage at the end of the alley. The well-dressed man clicked on a flashlight and swept it across the dismal scene, as a huge, dark dog followed quietly behind.
By Gabriel Huizenga2 years ago in Fiction
Thank You For Everything.
He gripped her palms gently, and she didn't seem to refuse much, matter of fact she seemed to desire more, of the warm touch that fondled with the lines on her palm.
By KSR2 years ago in Fiction
Fate's Embrace
The dim glow of the restaurant bathed the room in a golden hue, shadows flickering on the walls as the soft hum of conversation ebbed and flowed like a tide. I was halfway through a glass of Merlot, swirling it absentmindedly, when he walked in.
By Ummi2 years ago in Fiction
Shadows in the Light
The low hum of the lobby’s jazz music wrapped around me as I pushed through the heavy glass doors of the Grand Meridian Hotel. My heels clicked against the marble floor, each step a steady rhythm that matched the soft crackle of tension in the air. It was late, the kind of late where only secrets and shadows thrive.
By Ummi2 years ago in Fiction
The Murder of Gretta Lavine
One man framed for a murder he didn’t commit. Another knew the truth but refused to come clean. Gretta Levine was an actress at the pinnacle of her career. Her sudden death. A cold blooded murder, fed the tabloids for months. Her murder raised a lot of questions. Many of them had been left answered. Everyone wanted to know the two most basic questions. Who and why? Who would have done such a thing? What was the motive?
By Scott A. Gese2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Human Hour: A Viral Story About AI Companionship, Digital Isolation, and the Power of Human Connection
Story About AI Companionship, Digital Isolation, and the Power of Human Connection "In a world where digital companions have become our closest confidants, one woman's story challenges our understanding of genuine connection."
By Ian Mark Ganut2 years ago in Fiction
The Secret in the Pages: A Journey to the Lost Island
### **The Secret in the Pages: A Tale of Adventure and Discovery** It was a crisp morning when Ethan found the old, dusty book in the corner of his grandmother’s attic. He had never seen it before, but something about the faded cover and the strange markings intrigued him. "The Forgotten World," it was called, with no author name and only an ancient symbol etched in gold at the bottom. It was the kind of book one would expect to find in a storybook, where secrets and treasures awaited those who dared to open it.
By Abhishek2 years ago in Fiction
The Weight of Silence
The Weight of Silence The room was quiet. Too quiet. It was the kind of silence that didn't bring peace but rather pressed against the chest, making it hard to breathe. Aarav sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the small crack in the wall. That crack hadn’t been there before. Like his life, it had appeared suddenly, without warning, and grown over time. No one would guess, looking at him now, how much chaos he had endured to reach this calm. The day had started like any other. Aarav went to work, put on his practiced smile, and nodded along to his colleagues' chatter. But his mind was elsewhere, trapped in memories he couldn’t escape. Memories of arguments that echoed too loudly, of phone calls he wished he hadn't answered, and of promises made to himself that he never kept. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Aarav found himself walking aimlessly through the city streets, the bustling noise of life around him a stark contrast to the storm within. His feet led him to an old café, the kind that smelled of nostalgia and bad coffee. He hadn't been there in years. Inside, he saw her. Meera. She was sitting at the corner table, her fingers tracing patterns on the mug in front of her. Aarav froze. It had been six years since they last spoke, six years since that night that shattered both of them. She looked up, her eyes locking with his. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, as if compelled by a force greater than himself, Aarav walked over and sat across from her. "Hi," he said, his voice barely audible. Meera’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. "Hi." The silence between them was deafening. Aarav’s mind raced with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t. How do you explain years of guilt, regret, and longing in a single conversation? "It’s been a while," Meera finally broke the silence. Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly. Aarav noticed, just like he used to notice every little thing about her. "Yeah," he replied. "A long while." They talked—or tried to. Words felt heavy, like dragging boulders uphill. They spoke of small things: the weather, work, mutual friends they’d lost touch with. But underneath it all was the unspoken weight of everything they’d left unsaid. Finally, Meera leaned back and sighed. "Do you ever think about that night?" Aarav’s throat tightened. Of course, he thought about it. Every single day. The night when they’d fought, said things they didn’t mean and walked away from each other, thinking it was the only way to escape the pain. But the pain hadn’t gone; it had just changed shape. "Every day," he admitted, his voice cracking. Meera looked away, her eyes glistening. "I kept wondering if I could have done something differently. If I had just stayed..." "You did what you had to," Aarav interrupted. "We were both drowning, Meera. And instead of saving each other, we pulled each other under." She nodded, tears spilling onto her cheeks. Aarav wanted to reach out, to wipe them away, but he didn’t. He didn’t have the right anymore. "You seem... calmer now," Meera said after a moment, studying him. "More at peace." Aarav let out a bitter laugh. "It took years of chaos to get here. Nights where I couldn’t sleep, days where I couldn’t breathe. I had to break into a thousand pieces before I could put myself back together." Meera held his gaze, her expression unreadable. "Was it worth it?" He didn’t answer immediately. Was it? He had lost so much in the process—relationships, opportunities, time. But he had also found something: himself. "I don’t know," he finally said. "But I’m here. And maybe that’s enough." They sat in silence after that, the kind of silence that didn’t suffocate but held space for both of them. When they finally parted ways, Aarav didn’t look back. That night, as he lay in bed staring at the crack in the wall, he realized something. The calm he had found wasn’t the absence of chaos but the acceptance of it. It was in the understanding that life would always be messy, but within that mess, there was also room for growth, healing, and even hope. For the first time in years, Aarav fell asleep without the weight of the past pressing down on him. Continued......
By Witness Love2 years ago in Fiction
The Girl in the Basement: Reimagined
Drops of water hit the pages of my book. Choosing to ignore them, I continued rereading the same paragraph I had been working on for the last hour. I found myself brushing my long golden hair back behind my shoulders. The bare lightbulb swung slightly, shifting shadows in the basement.
By Shelby Larsen2 years ago in Fiction