Noman Afridi
Bio
I’m Noman Afridi — welcome, all friends! I write horror & thought-provoking stories: mysteries of the unseen, real reflections, and emotional truths. With sincerity in every word. InshaAllah.
Stories (202)
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The AI's Lullaby
The nightlight cast a soft, ethereal glow on baby Leo’s crib. Across the room, the Luna-AI Baby Monitor hummed, a sleek, minimalist device with a comforting, almost human voice. Sarah and David, exhausted new parents, had embraced it as a godsend. Luna didn’t just monitor breathing; it sang custom lullabies, told bedtime stories tailored to Leo’s biometric data, and even offered soothing white noise. It was their digital nanny, their silent guardian angel.
By Noman Afridi7 months ago in Horror
The Ghost in the Grid
Elias Thorne believed he had designed the future. His home—a marvel of smart technology—responded to his every command. From voice-activated lights to automated doors, from biometric thermostats to AI coffee makers, his sanctuary hummed in perfect harmony. Every beep and buzz was a note in the symphony of modern convenience. It was efficient. Safe. Controlled.
By Noman Afridi7 months ago in Horror
The Eid Sacrifice: A Whisper from the Other Side
The air on Eid al-Adha was thick with reverence, buzzing with the solemn energy of the coming sacrifice. But for Omar, this year was unlike any other. No family surrounded him, no elder to guide the ritual. For the first time, he stood alone, preparing for the sacred duty with trembling resolve.
By Noman Afridi7 months ago in Education
The Echo of the Unsent
The phone was a steal. Not the latest model, but a pristine, unlocked iPhone X. I snagged it for a song from a pawn shop downtown, thinking I’d finally upgrade from my cracked relic. It felt good in my hand, smooth and familiar. A clean slate, I thought. I was dead wrong.
By Noman Afridi7 months ago in Horror
The Echo of the Unsent
The phone was a steal. Not the latest model, but a pristine, unlocked iPhone X. I snagged it for a song from a pawn shop downtown, thinking I’d finally upgrade from my cracked relic. It felt good in my hand, smooth and familiar. A clean slate, I thought.
By Noman Afridi7 months ago in Horror
The Silent Melody of Redwood Lane
The house on Redwood Lane stood shrouded in the perpetual twilight of overgrown oaks, its silence a thick blanket woven from years of abandonment. Liam, a struggling composer seeking inspiration in forgotten spaces, found it irresistible. The real lure, however, wasn't the crumbling facade or the ghostly whispers the locals spoke of; it was the antique grand piano he’d spotted through a dusty window, its ebony finish gleaming like a promise of forgotten melodies.
By Noman Afridi7 months ago in Horror
The Unseen Reader
The Unseen Reader: A Kid's Rebellion Against the Banned The owner of our little corner house stepped out one morning and, to their immediate chagrin, landed squarely in a fresh pile of—well, let’s just say—a dog’s opinion of lawn decor. A mundane mishap, yet a perfectly absurd prologue to a day that spiraled into something wildly unexpected and surprisingly profound.
By Noman Afridi7 months ago in Education
The Midnight Road
The Midnight Road Some Roads Don’t Lead Anywhere… They Keep You Forever The old pickup truck, lovingly called Ol' Betsy, rumbled down Route 17—a lonely strip of worn asphalt slicing through miles of dense, whispering pine forest. Liam, a travel blogger chasing forgotten myths and mysterious legends, had specifically chosen this road for its eerie reputation. Midnight had long passed. A paper-thin moon cowered behind clouds, and only Betsy's flickering headlights fought the oppressive darkness.
By Noman Afridi8 months ago in Horror
The Dream Weaver’s Loom
The Dream Weaver’s Loom – Final Version for Publication Amelia was not just a dreamer — she was a cartographer of her subconscious, a lucid artist of the night. Her dreams were vivid, lush, and meticulously sculpted by her will. In them, she flew across surreal skies, painted cities in midair, and danced on moonlit waves. Yet, in the waking hours, an emptiness lingered. Reality, in its starkness, felt like a faded memory.
By Noman Afridi8 months ago in Horror
The Anonymous Confession
Leo was a digital janitor. Not glamorous, but essential. He worked for "Echo Chamber," a global anonymous confession platform, sifting through the torrent of human secrets, fears, and dark desires. Most posts were fleeting whispers: a cheated spouse, a forgotten dream, a trivial lie. But every few months, a particular sequence of posts would appear, chillingly consistent, yet utterly untraceable. They were from "User_007," and their confessions were unlike anything else.
By Noman Afridi8 months ago in Horror
