Nasser Mahmoud
Bio
hello, I'm a writer and speak in many fields, for example ( Health, Wealth, Relationships, etc...)
Stories (32)
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Unforeseen Events on a Blustery Day
The clouds, a distance away, were thickening and taking on an ominous appearance. The rain, now dribbling down, started to come together over the lake to brainstorm some plan. The wind shouldn't be getting mixed up with the ocean and the rain. The three together caused much havoc; today, however, just a little mayhem was perhaps what the wind needed. The rain danced beautifully on the deep blue seas, and wind raced off to join it, dropping from the top of the cliff.
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Fiction
Silence of a Windless Day
The sun was high to pour heat and brightness into the air. Boys wiped the sweat from their forehead and glared angrily at the sun on the field. Ladies sat gathered on their porches with wailing newborn babies, trying to get some relief in the shadeless yard. The mud had dried into cracking cakes of dirt, and plants withered under the blazing heat; nothing seemed to enjoy the heat of the sun without the cooling blast of air.
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Fiction
Blowing Down a Windy Day
Far away in the mountains huddled undulating plains behind the rock on which the wind sat. A dark dreadful wall began to rise over the horizon, formed of quite another sort of cloud than the fleecy ones whose folds the sun lolled in, or the intermediate ones wherein rain danced over the sea. It knew that energy sizzled, eager to break free and hail waited in the dark wrinkles of these clouds. Wind merrily ran from the cliffside to join in the celebration, and storm had come out to play.
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Fiction
The Craft of Giving Up
The studio was supplied with odd hues, such as mummy brown, the legendary paint produced from ground-up bones, and the commission had been too good to refuse. Harper's fascination with the supernatural was known to the patron. With one perplexing exhortation, he beckoned her inside: "Don't open the door, not until it's complete."
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Fiction
The sample
"We have to find a way out of here, NOW!" "Shh, keep your voice down. We don't know what we're dealing with." I beg Jeanie to stay calm and snuggled up close as we inch our way forward, but my grogginess clouds my confused thoughts. Neither of us knows how we came to be in this cave beneath the earth. I have this feeling that we're underwater. Perhaps it's only the long, porous, dimly lit tunnels with their echoing drips that have an unnatural sound dynamic.
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Horror
A Shroud of Crowns
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished, and it would do so until the conclusion of her Majesty's burial. In actuality, the first indication to her people that Her Majesty had died away was the rivers in the Queendom of Lubel flowing backwards; the burial had not yet started. Lubel is the first of a monarch's three phases of death; members of the royal family don't just disappear there.
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Fiction
The Goblin Tree and the Swallowed One
There was only one rule: "Don't open the door." The caution above the little bronze door at the base of a charred oak tree said as much. The writing was so twisted that even the Gods avoided looking at it when the moon shone on it, and the condemned shuddered and stayed away.
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Fiction
Laughter's Sound
There was only one rule: Don’t open the door. Randy never took notice of rules and regulations. Since he was a little boy, he had done his things his own way. He would simply laugh it off without thinking of the consequences, other people's properties, and his self being. He laughed each time he was suspended. He laughed when he got into trouble at home. When he moved out on his eighteenth birthday, his parents were more than glad to give him a final kiss.
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Fiction
Exorcism of Black Hollow Manor
Black Hollow Manor sits like a ghost - its walls eaten by ivy, stone front deteriorating - beyond the bounds of a forgotten hamlet steeped in mystery and sadness. The village whispers about this long-ago abandoned home in hushed tones, referring to it as a location where no living man dares set foot. It is said to be most definitely cursed, haunted by the tormented spirits of the Hawthorne family, which lived within its confines up until their inexplicable disappearance one horrific night a century ago.
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Horror
Ashwood Forest Under the Blood Moon
On the outskirts of Maplewood, a small, seemingly perfect town, lies Ashwood Forest-a thick grove of old trees said to be cursed. The locals stay away from it, especially when the harvest moon is shining and turning a deep scarlet. Legend has it that during the blood moon, the forests are prowled by evil beings who feed on anyone stupid enough to approach them.
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Horror
Whispers from the Attic
Overview of the Attic Whispers On the end of a dead-end street, in the quiet and peaceful neighborhood of Maplewood, lay a Victorian house more than a century old. A terrible disaster had struck this home that brought so much joy and happiness. The disaster snatched it and turned it into the fable told by campfires, part of city folklore. This mansion has been abandoned for decades since the family disappeared under a spate of strange happenings. Even if only the most courageous of the curious were drawn to its humming streets, most of them would actually feel that its existence had quite a different effect. The first half of the book involves the character of Sarah, a young lady in her twenties, returning to Maplewood. Local mythology of weird incidents on that haunted home, which came to be known as the Hawthorne home, draws her into it. Despite warnings from neighbors about weird sounds and spooky shadows, she investigates the estate in pursuit of an answer to whether the stories that haunt her dreams are true.
By Nasser Mahmoudabout a year ago in Horror
