Maya

Joined December 2024

9 stories

Bio

My name is Maya , I live in France, and I've been writing for over three years.

Stories (9)

Filter by community

Sort by (Optional)

Whispers from the Deep
It started when the lake thawed. A soft melody, faint but unmistakable, drifted on the breeze as the ice cracked and melted. At first, it was almost beautiful—a wordless hum that seemed to rise from the depths of Blackwater Lake. But beauty can be a lie.
By Mayaabout a year ago in Horror
The Shadow Weaver
It began with a thread. A single, dark strand of silk strung across my bedroom doorway. I thought nothing of it at first, brushing it aside as I left for work. By the time I returned that evening, the thread had multiplied—dozens of them crisscrossing my hallway like an intricate web.
By Mayaabout a year ago in Horror
The Bellringer’s Toll
The church bell’s toll was the first thing I heard when I moved to Ravensreach. It sounded at midnight, loud and clear, though the clock tower—a crumbling relic of stone and ivy—hadn’t been used for decades. The locals brushed it off, offering little more than muttered warnings to “ignore the toll.”
By Mayaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Grinning Orchard
I first heard about the orchard from an old man in the village. He had a voice like cracking wood and a face weathered by years of sun and sorrow. “Stay away from the orchard on Hollow Hill,” he warned, his cloudy eyes darting toward the distant rise. “The trees there… they don’t just grow. They watch.”
By Mayaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Lantern Keeper
It started with a dare. One of those drunken challenges thrown around at 2 a.m. during a camping trip. The old lighthouse on Blackthorn Cliff had been abandoned for decades, its iron gate locked and rusted shut. Legend had it that the last keeper, an unnamed man, had vanished one stormy night, leaving the light burning even though the lamp had no fuel. They say the light still glows when the fog rolls in, but no one dares check anymore. Not after what happened to the search party.
By Mayaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Mirror’s Edge
It was supposed to be a simple heirloom, passed down from my grandmother—an ornate mirror with a gilded frame, intricate carvings of vines and flowers twisting along its edges. It had hung in her hallway for decades, always pristine despite its age. She had always warned us, half-joking, “Be careful what you see in this mirror; it might see you too.”
By Mayaabout a year ago in Horror
The Whispering Key
When I first found the key, I thought it was junk—a relic from the past lying forgotten in the dusty corner of an antique shop. It was made of tarnished brass, oddly heavy for its size, and cold… unnaturally cold. I could swear I heard a faint whisper as I held it, like the breeze before a storm. It was ridiculous, of course. Just my imagination.
By Mayaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Thing in the Vault
### **The Thing in the Vault** **Case File: #4876 - Classified** **Filed by: Agent Nathan Hale, Federal Bureau of Investigation**
By Mayaabout a year ago in Fiction
FBI Secret Archives: Case No. 567 - Bigfoot
### **FBI Secret Archives: Case No. 567 - Bigfoot** **March 3, 1974** The dusty file sat on Special Agent Thomas Harper’s desk. The bold red stamp “CONFIDENTIAL” stood out like a wound on the cover. Thomas didn’t immediately notice the case number, but when his eyes finally glanced at the digits, something tightened inside him.
By Mayaabout a year ago in Horror