Gift Wesley Sage
Bio
I’m Wesley Sage, a passionate storyteller crafting fiction, essays, and lifestyle pieces that captivate. Join me on to discover heartfelt stories that will stay with you long after you read them.
Stories (4)
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The Thorned Crown – Chapter One: The Whispers in the Hall
The rain came down like spilled silver, cold and punishing, hammering the old stone keep of Dunsrow Hold. Inside, the halls breathed a quiet dread — torches flickering against moss-darkened walls, wind sighing through broken shutters, and footsteps too hesitant for a castle that once echoed with feasts and banners.
By Gift Wesley Sage7 months ago in Fiction
The Face in the Window. Content Warning.
I’d always liked my apartment because it was on the top floor. A tiny one-bedroom tucked into the corner of a creaky old building, far enough up that nobody could just stare in from the street. It felt safe — my sanctuary after long shifts at work.
By Gift Wesley Sage7 months ago in Horror
When Our Hands Finally Found Each Other
We’d been close since university — long before we ever thought to call ourselves anything more than friends. Back then, life was a blur of lectures, library sessions that lasted until midnight, and hurried walks to coffee shops just before they closed. Alex was there through all of it, a constant in a world that felt like it was forever changing.
By Gift Wesley Sage7 months ago in Fiction
That Summer, We Almost Lost Each Other
The summer before college felt like it would last forever. Endless days by the lake, sleepy towns that never changed, and the kind of laughter that echoed long after dark. My best friend Emma and I had always been two halves of one story, but that summer, everything shifted. We’d grown up next door to each other, spending most of our childhood tangled up in scraped knees, whispered secrets, and impromptu dance parties to whatever song was playing. Even when high school got messy — the kind of messy that splits you into cliques and changes the way you look at yourself — Emma and I held on to what we had.But that summer, something felt different.It started when a group of travelers parked their rusty campervan near the lake. They were older, with sun-bleached hair and stories about places we’d only seen in movies. They invited us to sit around their fire one night, passing around roasted marshmallows and playing old indie tunes that made the dark feel softer. Emma was enchanted — especially by one guy named Leo, who smiled like someone who hadn’t thought about tomorrow in years.
By Gift Wesley Sage7 months ago in Fiction
