Rashid Ahmad
Bio
Writer of dark truths, hidden obsessions, and haunting emotions.
Welcome to my world — where every story has shadows, every character hides something, and every heartbeat echoes louder in silence. I write fiction that grips you
Stories (7)
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The Paris Illusion – Season 3, Part 2. AI-Generated.
I didn’t sleep that night. I sat in the corner of my apartment, phone in one hand, knife in the other, the message glowing like a threat in my palm—Marienne, tied up. Choose. It was the kind of choice I thought I’d never face again. Not after Love. Not after Henry. I had tried to bury Joe Goldberg, but someone had unearthed him and was dangling his crimes over the only pure thing I ever loved.
By Rashid Ahmad6 months ago in Criminal
The Paris Illusion – Season 3, Part 1. AI-Generated.
Paris was never supposed to be home. It was a hiding place, a graveyard for the man I used to be. Joe Goldberg died in a fire, and from his ashes, Jonathan Moore was born—a quiet, grieving father, alone in a city of love. I didn’t come here for art or beauty. I came for her. Marienne.
By Rashid Ahmad6 months ago in Criminal
Our Love Story Ends in Blood – Season 2, Part 2. AI-Generated.
Her words lingered in the air like smoke—“I’m pregnant.” I should have felt joy, hope, a new beginning. But all I felt was fear. Not the kind that sends you running, but the kind that roots deep inside your chest and grows like rot. Love was having my child. Love, the woman who slit Candace’s throat. Love, who saw the worst in me and didn’t flinch—because she had her own.
By Rashid Ahmad6 months ago in Criminal
The Bakery and the Burial – Season 2, Part 1. AI-Generated.
I buried Beck beneath poetry and hardwood, but her voice still echoed in the spaces between my ribs. New York became a cage of whispers—her laugh on the stairs, the sound of the bookstore bell, the scent of her shampoo on strangers passing me in the street. So I ran. West. To Los Angeles. The land of smoothies, sunsets, and souls that smiled too wide. I chose a name—Will Bettelheim. Not mine, but fitting. The real Will? He’s alive, just very…quiet now. Locked away. Safe.
By Rashid Ahmad6 months ago in Criminal
The Woman in the Cage – Season 1, Part 2. AI-Generated.
Love is patient. Love is kind. Love is a lie. It started slipping the moment Beck started noticing things she wasn’t meant to. She still smiled at me like I was her safe place, but her eyes grew restless. Maybe it was the way Peach’s death haunted her, or the way Dr. Nicky’s voice started sounding more comforting than mine. Maybe it was the book she couldn’t finish, or the truths she didn’t want to admit—that the world she lived in, the people she trusted, were disappearing. I tried to hold her tighter. But Beck was beginning to pull away, and when people pull away from me, I pull harder.
By Rashid Ahmad6 months ago in Criminal
Hello, You – Season 1, Part 1. AI-Generated.
The bell above the bookstore door chimed—a soft, ordinary sound that meant nothing to anyone but him. But when she walked in, that chime might as well have been a thunderclap. She moved like a question he didn’t know he’d been waiting to answer. Her hair loose, sweater oversized, and fingers running along the spines of poetry like she already belonged to them. Her name was Guinevere Beck, but she introduced herself as just Beck. And with that, everything changed.
By Rashid Ahmad6 months ago in Criminal
The Day I Chose Me—and Lost Everyone Else. AI-Generated.
It was a foggy Tuesday morning when Clara disappeared from the group chat. No goodbye. No warning. Just silence. At first, no one noticed. The usual flood of jokes, work complaints, and birthday reminders carried on. Her sister texted her, then double-texted. No reply. Her boyfriend messaged, “You okay?” Then, “What the hell, Clara?” Then nothing else. But she wasn’t missing. Not in the way people vanish on the news. She was just… not there anymore. Not where they expected her to be. A week before, Clara stood in front of the mirror staring at the dress her mother insisted she wear to the family reunion. It was baby blue the color her father loved. “You always look so sweet in that,” her mother had said, smiling, the kind of smile that never reached her eyes. Clara hated that word sweet. It wasn’t a compliment anymore. It felt like a muzzle. A silk ribbon tied too tightly around her throat. The dress hugged her too tightly, squeezing her like all the expectations she carried.
By Rashid Ahmad6 months ago in Confessions
