Muhammmad Zain Ul Hassan
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Stories (41)
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"The Hollow Guest"
It began with a knock at 3:17 AM. Evelyn Baxter jolted awake in her creaky farmhouse nestled at the edge of Ashmoor Woods. Her old clock ticked loudly in the silence, and her dog, Murphy, growled low at the foot of the bed. The knock came again. Three deliberate raps. Not hurried. Not hesitant. Measured.
By Muhammmad Zain Ul Hassan6 months ago in Horror
The Quiet Night
Elmsworth was a place most would call sleepy, not for its people but for the way time moved there. Days drifted gently like mist over the hills, and nights settled softly like a blanket over the stone cottages. There was no traffic, no towering buildings, no noise—only the hum of crickets, the rustle of old trees, and the steady rhythm of life.
By Muhammmad Zain Ul Hassan6 months ago in Horror
"The Flame in the River"
In the quiet village of Harthmere, nestled between fog-wrapped mountains and the whispering Wyrndale River, people spoke in hushed tones of a strange legend—the Flame in the River. It was not a tale for children nor something the elders told lightly. It was a story carried by the current itself, flowing through generations like the water it spoke of. And no one, not even the bravest, dared to disturb the river after dusk.
By Muhammmad Zain Ul Hassan6 months ago in Earth
Overcoming Societal Blind Spots
When Maya joined her new school in the heart of the city, she noticed something odd. No one looked at the janitor. No one said hello to the cafeteria staff. And not once did a single student question the posters lining the walls—ads promoting success with smiling, fair-skinned, affluent-looking kids, all wearing the same kind of clothes, all speaking the same polished English.
By Muhammmad Zain Ul Hassan6 months ago in Psyche
When Shadows Remember
They started remembering things that never happened. Small things, at first—a song that made them cry though they’d never heard it. A street they’d never walked down but knew every crack in. A dream of drowning in a river they'd never seen… but woke up gasping, lungs full of terror.
By Muhammmad Zain Ul Hassan6 months ago in Lifehack
Whispers from the Rain
It began on the third day of rain. Not the drizzle kind, or even a thunderstorm—this was something older. The sky broke open, and the rain fell like a river turned upside down. No wind. No lightning. Just endless sheets of silver soaking the earth.
By Muhammmad Zain Ul Hassan6 months ago in Wander
Beneath the Silent Sky
No one had spoken in 317 days. Not a whisper. Not a murmur. Not even a breath too loud. The sky had gone silent first. One morning, birdsong never returned. The wind stopped humming through the trees. Storms passed overhead without a sound. Thunder was reduced to a flicker of light—lightning’s shadow without its roar.
By Muhammmad Zain Ul Hassan6 months ago in Blush
The Garden Beyond the Moon
On the night Elara's heart broke, the stars whispered her name. She didn't hear them at first—not over the storm of tears and the sound of memories crashing through her like waves. Her world had unraveled with a single message: “He’s gone.” No accident. No warning. Just gone.
By Muhammmad Zain Ul Hassan6 months ago in Earth
The Last Lightkeeper
The sun vanished on a Tuesday. No one expected it. One moment, dawn was breaking across the ocean. The next, darkness slammed down like a shutter, swift and final. The stars remained, cold and indifferent. But the sun — the heart of everything — was gone.
By Muhammmad Zain Ul Hassan6 months ago in Earth
