ETS_Story

Joined May 2025

81 stories

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About Me

Storyteller at heart | Explorer of imagination | Writing “ETS_Story” one tale at a time.

From everyday life to fantasy realms, I weave stories that spark thought, emotion, and connection.

Stories (81)

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The Extra Photo
It was supposed to be a normal weekend. My two closest friends, Arjun and Sameer, came over to my place after years. We hadn’t hung out together since college, and nostalgia hit hard. The evening was full of silly jokes, old stories, and the kind of laughter that makes your stomach ache.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
The Room That Remembers
When I signed the lease for the small house on Maple Street, I thought I’d finally caught a stroke of luck. The rent was cheap, the neighborhood quiet, and the landlord seemed almost too eager to hand me the keys.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
“The Doll That Breathed”
When I was twelve, my grandmother gave me a porcelain doll. It was beautiful in a strange, old-fashioned way—glass-blue eyes, red painted lips, and golden curls that looked too perfect to be real. It wore a faded lace dress, the kind you’d only see in black-and-white photographs.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Education
The Knock at 2 A.M.
I don’t usually wake up at 2 A.M. I am the kind of person who sleeps like a rock. But that night, something pulled me out of my dreams—like a string yanking me awake.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Horror
The Antique Mirror
When I first saw the mirror, it was leaning against the far wall of an old antique shop, half-hidden behind a stack of dusty chairs. The frame was ornate, carved with swirls of vines and roses, the gold paint chipping away in places. It had that kind of beauty that feels both inviting and unsettling, like it had lived a hundred lives before finding its way to me.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Education
Don’t Open the Door
I’ve always thought living alone was freedom. No arguments about dishes, no noise I didn’t choose, no one asking why I was awake at three in the morning. Just me, my books, and the quiet.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Horror
The Clock Stopped at 3:07
The night it started, I thought it was just a coincidence. I had fallen asleep on the couch, the TV still on, when a sharp click jolted me awake. I glanced over at the old clock on the wall—the one my grandmother left me. Its second hand had frozen, pointing straight at the seven.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
"The Passenger Who Wasn’t There"
It was raining the night it happened, one of those slow, steady rains that makes the road shine like black glass. I was driving home from work, tired, half-listening to the radio when I saw her.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
The Last Call
It had been two years since we buried Sarah, and still, not a day passed without me thinking of her. Sometimes I caught myself reaching for my phone, wanting to text her something funny, only to remember there would never be a reply.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Education
She Called Me-Two Years After I Buried Her
I wasn’t supposed to hear her voice again. Not after the funeral. Not after the dirt hit the coffin and we all stood there in silence, trying to believe she was really gone.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
The Photo I Found in My Attic Wasn’t Supposed to Exist
I was cleaning out the attic last weekend, something I’d been putting off for years. The summer heat made the air up there heavy and still, and the dust clung to my skin as I pushed aside old boxes. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular—just trying to make space.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
The Call Came After Midnight
I was half-asleep when my phone rang. The screen lit up my dark bedroom, the name flashing across it like something out of a dream — or a nightmare.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Education

ETS_Story

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Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(81)

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The Extra Photo

The Room That Remembers

“The Doll That Breathed”

The Knock at 2 A.M.

The Antique Mirror

Don’t Open the Door

The Clock Stopped at 3:07

"The Passenger Who Wasn’t There"

The Last Call

She Called Me-Two Years After I Buried Her

The Photo I Found in My Attic Wasn’t Supposed to Exist

The Call Came After Midnight

Stories (81)