Himansu Kumar Routray
Bio
i am a creative writer on Vocal Media, passionate about crafting stories that inspire and engage. Covering topics from lifestyle and self-growth to fiction, Outside writing, always seeking new ideas to spark their next story.
Stories (39)
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The Running Shadow
The Running Shadow By HKR --- The forest was alive with whispers. Evelyn tightened her jacket around her, the chill of the autumn air biting at her skin. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the woods cloaked in an inky darkness. Her flashlight flickered weakly, casting erratic beams of light that danced across the gnarled trees and tangled underbrush. She shouldn’t have come here. Not at night. Not alone.
By Himansu Kumar Routray11 months ago in Horror
Cutting Head
Cutting Head The town of Raven's Hollow had always harbored dark secrets, but none as sinister as the legend of the Cutting Head. It was whispered that a figure haunted the old Blackwood Forest, wielding a rusted axe and claiming the heads of those who dared wander too far into the night. Skeptics dismissed it as folklore, but every few years, a new disappearance would renew the fear.
By Himansu Kumar Routray12 months ago in Horror
THAT DAY
That Day The air was thick with the scent of rain, though the storm had long passed. Puddles shimmered under the flickering streetlights, reflecting the skeletal branches of leafless trees. The town was quiet, unnervingly so, as though it had exhaled its last breath and was waiting, just waiting.
By Himansu Kumar Routray12 months ago in Fiction
Letters to Yesterday-A Love Story
In the heart of an old European village, nestled between cobblestone streets and ivy-draped cottages, stood a forgotten post office. Its wooden doors creaked with age, and its brass mailbox gleamed faintly under the weight of years. The villagers had long since embraced modern technology, leaving behind the quaint charm of handwritten letters. Yet, hidden within its dusty shelves were hundreds of unsent letters, their ink faded but their words brimming with longing.
By Himansu Kumar Routray12 months ago in Fiction
A Symphony of Souls
In the heart of Vienna, where cobblestone streets hummed with the echoes of centuries-old music, lived Clara Weiss, a gifted violinist. Her music was her language, speaking the words she could never voice. Each note she played told stories of longing and hope, resonating through the grand halls of the conservatory where she practiced endlessly. Yet, despite the applause and admiration, Clara's soul felt incomplete, as if a missing melody lingered just beyond her reach.
By Himansu Kumar Routray12 months ago in Fiction
When Our Paths Collide-A Love Story
It was the kind of morning where the city felt like it was still half-asleep—streets glistening from the early drizzle, and the air holding a quiet chill. Emma adjusted the strap of her worn leather satchel and weaved through the crowd, her mind consumed by the looming presentation that could define her career. She had always been meticulous, every detail in place, every plan carefully constructed. Yet life had a habit of being unpredictable.
By Himansu Kumar Routray12 months ago in Writers
The Promise in the Rain
Rain had always been a constant in Aria's life. It was on a rainy afternoon that she first met Ethan, and it was under a sky darkened by storm clouds that she last saw him. The rhythm of the raindrops on her window now was a reminder of the promise they made long ago—a promise that neither time nor distance could wash away.
By Himansu Kumar Routray12 months ago in Writers
The Stranger's Game
Rain hammered against the cracked windows of the old tavern, its wooden frame groaning under the weight of the storm. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and whispered conversations. In the corner, by the hearth's dying embers, sat a man cloaked in shadows. His face was obscured, but his presence demanded attention. A deck of worn cards lay on the table before him, edges frayed by time.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Door
In the heart of a desolate mountain range stood an ancient fortress, long abandoned and eroded by centuries of wind and snow. Legend spoke of a hidden chamber within, sealed by the last door—a portal none dared open. For generations, adventurers had searched for it, driven by whispers of untold power and eternal knowledge. None had returned.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Fiction
The Seventh Hour
The Seventh Hour The town of Eldergrove was known for its silence—a kind of stillness that hung over it like an unspoken rule. The townsfolk spoke in hushed voices, moved with purpose, and never lingered outside after sunset. It was a place where secrets nested in every shadow and every clock seemed to tick just a bit slower. But the most unsettling thing about Eldergrove was the ancient clock tower that loomed over the town square. Its hands had been frozen at seven o'clock for as long as anyone could remember.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Chapters
Whispers in the Dark
Whispers in the Dark Rain lashed against the windowpane of the old Whitmore estate, a symphony of nature's fury that masked the subtle creaks of the ancient house settling into the night. Emily Carter pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, the damp chill creeping into her bones. She hadn't planned on staying the night, but the sudden storm had made the winding country roads treacherous.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Horror
