Young Adult

Wrong Identity
For a moment, Curtis tried to follow the instruction. He stopped treating the hum as a data point and instead let it be a sound. As he did, the "Curtis" protocols suffered a sudden, violent crash. The tactical overlay of the room—the heat signatures of the walls, the structural weaknesses of the ceiling—shuddered and vanished, leaving behind a raw, terrifyingly quiet space. For the first time, he wasn't seeing the world through a lens of probability; he was just seeing a small, dim room and a tired man with a mug of tea.
By Forest Greenabout 24 hours ago in Fiction
Wrong Identity
Behind him, the cleaner recovered with an effortless, sickening fluidity. It didn't pursue with a run; it simply adjusted its vector, its movements a series of precise, geometric shifts that closed the distance in seconds. Curtis could hear the same metallic clicking of the magnetic clamps, now echoing not from the walls, but from the creature's own limbs as it navigated the treacherous mud with an efficiency that defied physics.
By Forest Greenabout 24 hours ago in Fiction
Wrong Identity
Curtis didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. While Elias was lecturing him on the inevitability of the loop, Curtis’s mind was already mapping the same structural flaws he had noticed in the lighthouse's masonry. He didn’t see the room as a room; he saw it as a series of stress points and gravitational vectors. He knew exactly how much weight the rotting floorboards could take before the salt-damaged joists gave way.
By Forest Greena day ago in Fiction
Wrong Identity
The "Jake" part of him felt a sudden, sharp spike of panic—a raw, human terror that didn't fit into a spreadsheet. But the "Curtis" side of his brain immediately categorized this panic as fuel . He didn't try to suppress the fear; he integrated it, using the frantic energy to accelerate his heart rate and sharpen his focus. If he was a version, a draft, a variable in a cruel experiment, then the only way to survive was to become an outlier.
By Forest Greena day ago in Fiction
The One Meant-to-be
Sometime in the year 4084 During the Blight’s War Living in the Kingdom of Cuscing In the shadow of the sadistic King Stood the one meant to rule
By Mother Combs9 days ago in Fiction
Cosmo
“Cosmo.. Your name is - Cosmo…” Dirty, viscous, sticky air. Sand flying in the wind. Everything seems yellow. Everything IS yellow. Is that the thought that you wanted to die with? Leaving you in the mirage of the melting asphalt, the further I go, the more of a memory you become. Real. Ever real. You’ve never been as real as you are now, being dead. Nebraska. Alaska. Nevada. Thrown everywhere by life. Never a home to come to, only a house. I found you in Reno, your head in the cloud, your mind electric from snow. A box of pills rattling in your purse, waiting to be used for the last time, in the room upstairs. Once and for all, end it. Identical mascara streaks on your cheeks like a personal camo, “pretending to be a regular girl, but not!”
By Salomé Saffiri18 days ago in Fiction
The Last Call
There is a certain kind of small town where everyone knows your name before they know you. Where the cashier at the grocery store knows your mother, your mother knows her daughter, and somehow everyone knows you were at the basketball tournament out of town Saturday night before you have even made it home Sunday morning.
By Kam23 days ago in Fiction
Don't think about a pink elephant Chp.1 . Content Warning.
Prologue The world, spinning like a wheel, crushes everything with the need to escape this hellish mace of needs. Some people tried to get on top,
By Just a guyabout a month ago in Fiction
This Is How It Ends...
The summer sun glinted off her mocha-brown skin and highlighted the streaks of red and gold in her hair. Her smile was wild and infectious. I lay out on the towel, feeling the flecks of water evaporate off me in the heat, and watch her playing endlessly with her golden retriever in the water.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey2 months ago in Fiction
The Lunchbox
Connor Every day, Conner looked forward to lunch. He sat alone in the cafeteria, as always. Making lunches with his mother used to be one of favorite things to do with her. Every evening, before bed, they would go through cookbooks and recipe blogs. Elaborate lunches. Sometimes elaborate, sometimes simple.
By Sama Habib2 months ago in Fiction
The Mole She Never Had . Content Warning.
David’s thumb stopped just below my collarbone, pressing into the little hollow there, and then he said something strange. We were still naked. It was four in the morning, the rain had just stopped, and our bodies were still wrapped in a thin film of sweat, his and mine. His fingers traced down my ribs slowly, like he was reading Braille. When he reached the third rib on the left, he paused and pressed down hard. It wasn’t a caress—it was pressure, the way you press a button to check if it still works. Then he said, “You have a mole here. You didn’t have it before.”
By Jin3 months ago in Fiction
Jackjot
Long time ago there lived an old man named Highsti. Highsti was quite an aged guy who always wanted a companion which he never had. He had no companion because in his neighborhood only young folks and kids lived who were least bothered about him. As he was very old, he stayed at home and continued his life as it is and in it. One night he was very upset and saw a shooting star. After seeing the star, he wished if it could give him a companion which may be in any shape, size or form.
By Air Herk3 months ago in Fiction