Mirhadi Tahsin
Bio
Passionate writer from Bangladesh,crafting stories that explore love,loss,and human connections.Through heartfelt narratives I aim to inspire,evoke emotions,and leave lasting impressions.Join me on Vocal Media for tales that touch the soul.
Stories (57)
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Blood and Betrayal
Vincent "Vinnie" Russo never wanted to be a big shot. He was content being an enforcer, cracking skulls when necessary, collecting debts when the boss demanded. Life was simple: follow orders, keep your mouth shut, and don’t get greedy. But in the underworld, even the best-laid plans go to hell sooner or later.
By Mirhadi Tahsin11 months ago in Criminal
Echoes of the Raven
Daniel Mercer never intended to return to Black Hollow. The small town held too many ghosts, too many memories he had tried to leave behind. But when a series of disappearances began making headlines, his editor at The Chronicle insisted. "You grew up there. You’ll get people to talk," she had said. And so, begrudgingly, he went back.
By Mirhadi Tahsin11 months ago in Men
The Clockmaker’s Curse
The village of Wexley had always been quiet, the kind of place where the days passed with the steady ticking of old grandfather clocks. In the heart of town, nestled between a bookshop and a bakery, stood a small clockmaker’s shop, its windows filled with gears and timepieces of every shape and size. The shop belonged to Elias Thorne, an elderly craftsman with a reputation for making the most precise clocks in the country.
By Mirhadi Tahsin11 months ago in History
The Forgotten Lighthouse
The boat rocked against the jagged waves as Samuel Dorne approached the island. The lighthouse stood defiantly on the edge of a rocky cliff, its once-bright white paint now peeling and streaked with rust. It had been twenty-five years since he last set foot on this land, and now it belonged to him. The inheritance papers had been clear—his great-uncle, the previous keeper, had left him everything.
By Mirhadi Tahsin11 months ago in Men
Whispers of the Forgotten
Whispers of the Forgotten The house stood at the end of the street, draped in years of neglect. Ivy curled around its pillars, and the wooden door creaked with a sorrowful wail as Mira pushed it open. The scent of dust and aged paper filled the air, making her cough. She had always been drawn to abandoned places, fascinated by their untold stories. But today, she was here for something more.
By Mirhadi Tahsin11 months ago in Fiction
The Letter That Arrived Too Late
Ayaan never expected to find anything when he opened the old wooden chest in the attic. It was just supposed to be a storage box, filled with forgotten memories from his childhood home. Dusty books, old photographs, and faded trinkets—things left untouched for years.
By Mirhadi Tahsin11 months ago in Writers
