Hashir

Joined September 2025

3 stories

Stories (3)

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The Echo Collector
Every night at exactly 3:11 A.M., the house spoke. At first, Mara convinced herself it was just the building settling—an old colonial home with old colonial problems: rattling pipes, warping wood, air slipping through ancient vents like sighs from a sleeping beast. She was new to living alone, new to living anywhere quiet enough for her own heartbeat to sound like an intruder. So when she heard the first whisper one night in early November, she didn’t panic.
By Hashir2 months ago in Fiction
The Whisper Behind the Door
No one remembered when Room 31 had first been locked. The brass number on the door was tarnished and green around the edges, as if the metal itself were trying to rot away. Students at Pine Crest Boarding School whispered about it—how the hallway lights flickered when you walked past, how the temperature dipped even in summer, how sometimes, if you pressed your ear to the wood, it sounded like someone was breathing on the other side.
By Hashir2 months ago in Fiction
The Floor That Wasn’t There
No one at the old Greymont Apartments used Lift 13—not if they could help it. The brass numbers on the doors were scratched, the button flickered as though dying, and the doors often shuddered before opening, like something inside needed time to hide. Tenants whispered that the lift had been sealed for years and only recently put back into service after renovations. Yet the building had no thirteenth floor at all. Floors jumped from 12 to 14, as most older buildings did. So no one understood why Lift 13 existed in the first place.
By Hashir2 months ago in Fiction