thriller

The City of Almost
The City of Almost When Mira first moved to the city, she thought the locals were joking. “You’ll see them,” her landlord had said while handing her the brass key with its strange, crooked teeth. “Don’t stare too long. That’s the trick.”
By Timothy A Rowlandabout a year ago in Fiction
The Madness of the Fox. Honorable Mention in The Shape of the Thing Challenge. Content Warning.
John Junius drives his creaky old Taurus down Jasper's bend, which is also called called County Road 15, according to his outdated GPS-- the one with the tinny British accent.
By Sam Spinelliabout a year ago in Fiction
To the bitter end
And, with that, inexplicably to all but finally to some, the star closest to Earth began to fuel itself, going forth the way a vehicle pumps out the last of its gasoline before dying completely. And in doing so the star began to swell; slowly at first, so much so the few who witnessed this beginning deemed it an optical illusion. But they were as wrong as this day was short. It kept growing, as if consuming the sky itself with its orange glow, small canyons of blazing red now becoming visible to the burning naked eye. People ran inside but it was no use; they knew this, of course, but it just seemed better to do something when the Sun is about to devour you. Finally the forests and cities of the world began melting and lighting all at once, sealing the doom not just of civilization but of all sentient life within it…
By J.C. Traverseabout a year ago in Fiction
The Abyssal Caller. Content Warning.
The ocean is never truly silent. Even in its deepest trenches, there is the groan of shifting tectonic plates, the distant rumble of volcanoes, and the strange choruses of unseen creatures. But when the Calypso II descended into the uncharted stretch beyond the Mariana Trench, all sound vanished.
By E. hasanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Illusion of Impact
Work was done for the day. I hop in my truck; body covered in drywall dust. I am large, standing 6 feet and 6 inches tall. I am covered so much in this white dust that my daughter calls me the abominable snowman. I laugh when she says that. Roll my eyes in gesture. She’s only six and the way she pronounces such a big word makes me laugh even harder. Like when the person’s laugh is funnier than the joke that was just told.
By Amyabout a year ago in Fiction
Give. Honorable Mention in The Shape of the Thing Challenge. Content Warning.
The words he said to everyone he approached: "Give me what I have asked for. If you don't, I have friends who will come and we will take everything from you. Not only that, we may take other liberties with you, your family and neighbours. You have a choice. Give me what I want or suffer the consequences, and you don't want to suffer the consequences, do you?Would you like to see what might happen? Here are some properties that my friends have applied their talents to; yours could be the same if you do not give me what I am due"
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about a year ago in Fiction
When Trust Breaks
Trust. Such a fragile word, yet it holds the power to build or break entire lives. I learned this not through books or wise sayings but through the scars life left on me—scars that still ache when the nights get too quiet.
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Fiction
The Letter I Was Never Meant to Read
It was a quiet evening when I stumbled upon the letter. The house was unusually still, the kind of silence that presses on your chest and makes you feel like something is about to change. I hadn’t been looking for secrets; I was simply searching for an old notebook in the wooden chest my mother kept locked in her room. But fate has a strange way of revealing truths when we least expect them.
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Fiction
Under the Crimson Sky
The crimson sky stretched endlessly above, its fiery glow spilling across the horizon like blood on sand. For most villagers, it was just another sunset, another day slowly slipping into the night. But for Ayaan, the sight of that sky was both a curse and a reminder—a curse of the past he could never completely bury, and a reminder of the fight he could no longer run away from.
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Fiction
Shadows of Potential
Shadows of Potential Elias Voss adjusted his tie in the reflection of the polished glass doors of Vortex Dynamics, the nonprofit's sleek facade gleaming under the Toronto midday sun. It was 2019, and the building— a modern edifice of chrome and tinted windows— masqueraded as a mental health outreach center, promising "healing through innovation." Elias knew better. This was the Clinic's front door, a veneer of legitimacy over the shadows where real work happened. At 32, he was still hungry, still convinced that places like Black Site 53 could rewrite the broken scripts of human minds. Delilah Kyros had recruited him personally, her words electric: "We don't patch souls, Dr. Voss. We forge new ones." He'd signed on without hesitation, blind to the costs that would come later.
By Theodore Homuthabout a year ago in Fiction
The Stranger Who Knew My Name. AI-Generated.
It started as an ordinary evening. I was walking home from work, my bag slung over one shoulder, earbuds in, listening to a podcast about true crime—a guilty pleasure that kept me company on long walks. The streets were quieter than usual, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
By Asima Bibiabout a year ago in Fiction
Chasing the Midnight Sky
Elara’s heart raced as the train hurtled through the dark countryside. The midnight sky stretched endlessly above, glittering with stars, yet shadows seemed to reach for her from every corner. She clutched the envelope tightly, knowing it held a secret that could change everything… and that someone was willing to kill for it.
By Dalia Mohamedabout a year ago in Fiction