Raja Yazhini Sri
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Stories (6)
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Suffering Does Not Come Alone
Chapter 1: The Storm Before the Calm Ravi was a man whose life had known a lot of suffering. At 35, he seemed older, the years and struggles weighing heavy on his face and in his gait. Despite his best efforts to build a stable life for himself, fate seemed to have a different plan. When his father passed away, Ravi inherited a mountain of debt along with a small, rundown grocery shop in a quiet village. The shop was hardly enough to cover basic needs, let alone pay off debts.
By Raja Yazhini Sriabout a year ago in Lifehack
The Case of the Mystery Pineapple
Once upon a time in the bustling city of Calamityville, there lived a man named Frank Spindle. Frank was not your ordinary guy he was the kind of person who could trip over air, spill coffee without holding a cup, and lose his glasses while wearing them. He was, in short, a walking disaster magnet. But Frank didn’t mind; he worked at the town’s rather quirky "Department of Strange and Unexplained Items," or DOSUI, where anything out of the ordinary was just part of a regular Tuesday.
By Raja Yazhini Sriabout a year ago in Confessions
Shadows of the Forgotten City
The city stood abandoned, wrapped in silence and cloaked by a thick, unyielding fog. Its name had been lost to time, its streets no longer charted on any map. They called it the Forgotten City, a place where whispers spoke of dark secrets and legends thrived in the shadows.
By Raja Yazhini Sriabout a year ago in Fiction
The whispering veil . Content Warning.
It was a house no one spoke of, not because it had been forgotten, but because the memories it held were too terrifying to relive. Nestled on the edge of a dying forest, this Victorian mansion had stood for over a century, crumbling and sagging under the weight of time and silence. Locals called it The Veil a fitting name for a place that separated this world from whatever lurked beyond.
By Raja Yazhini Sriabout a year ago in Fiction
The whispering shadows
The old Weathersby Manor stood atop a hill, overlooking the sleepy village below. For decades, the towering structure had been left abandoned, its windows boarded up, and its gardens overrun with wild vines. The villagers rarely spoke of it, except in hushed tones, and no one dared venture near it after sunset. They claimed it was cursed, a place where shadows moved on their own and whispers filled the air.
By Raja Yazhini Sriabout a year ago in Horror
