Tsvetislav Vasilev
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Stories (12)
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ECLYRIA: The Crimson Fate
ECLYRIA: The Crimson Fate EPISODE 1: "The Binding" --- PROLOGUE *"There are things people do out of love. There are things they do out of fear. And there are things they do because their soul has already signed the contract before their mind understands the price."*
By Tsvetislav Vasilev2 months ago in Fiction
The Clockwork Heart
THE CLOCKWORK HEART EPISODE 1: "The First End" PROLOGUE "There are loves so pure they burn. Not with warmth—with destruction. They consume everything: reason, safety, future. And when such love meets an immovable force, something must break. Usually, it's the lovers themselves." — Unknown
By Tsvetislav Vasilev2 months ago in Fiction
The Voice in My Head – Friend or Foe?
The voice in my head – friend or foe? It often appears throughout the day, as if it comes for a cup of coffee and decides to stay. Sometimes it lingers even through the night, but then it changes. At night, the voice starts asking me to do things different from its daytime visits. This voice is like a guest no one invites – it invites itself. It knows it is always welcome, knows I have no problem letting it into my thoughts, and knows I am ready to break the rules for it.
By Tsvetislav Vasilevabout a year ago in Chapters
The Last Round
**Part 1: The Fighter’s Burden** The gym smelled of sweat and iron—a stench that clung to the air like a second skin. It was late, far too late for anyone to be there, except for Jace Carter. The only sound was the rhythm of his fists pounding into the heavy bag, a dull thud followed by a sharper crack of the chain as it swung. He had been at it for hours, his shirt soaked through, his muscles burning. He was chasing something, though he wasn’t sure what.
By Tsvetislav Vasilevabout a year ago in Chapters
The Two Voices Within
There are two people living inside me, each one pulling me in opposite directions. One is the dreamer—naive, hopeful, always believing in love, in destiny, in the idea that everything happens for a reason. The other is the realist, hardened by disappointment and betrayal, whispering in the back of my mind that love is fleeting, an illusion meant to distract us from the inevitable loneliness.
By Tsvetislav Vasilevabout a year ago in Poets
The Echoes of Forgotten Promises
The wind howled through the empty streets of the small, forgotten town. The buildings, once lively with laughter and warmth, now stood like silent tombstones, each one a reminder of something lost, something that would never return. The cold seeped into every corner, pressing in like a suffocating blanket, but the chill in Amelia’s heart was far worse.
By Tsvetislav Vasilevabout a year ago in Fiction
The Dark Angel of the Night
I am an angel of the night, with tears in my eyes and pain in my heart, searching once again for light. But I always lose myself in sadness, in the hopeless solitude of a sorrowful night angel. I lost myself somewhere in the night, but it was beautiful, just like me, captured by emptiness and sorrow. For it, there is a sun—it has hope for light. My beautiful darkness found its light and hope, while I remain imprisoned by hopeless sorrow. I cannot escape this sadness. I know there will be no rainbow for me, no light. This is the curse of the dark angel of the night.
By Tsvetislav Vasilevabout a year ago in Poets
A Wolf in the Night: A Reflection of Solitude
Somewhere in the bleak, snowy night, I saw a wounded but beautiful creature—a wolf. I approached it and looked into its eyes, seeing endless loneliness, sad and doomed, just like me, bound to the night. I gazed at it, seeing myself. It was just as lonely and frozen by solitude. It saw that my soul was just as broken. Tears began to flow from both of us; our tears longed to unite and defeat But the only thing that happened was sadness for both of us. We realized there would be no light, that we would wander in solitude and remain eternal companions of the night. It was a beautiful creature with a human soul, but its soul could not endure, could not bear the pain. It set off somewhere where they say there is light, but we both knew we would continue to wander in the darkness. For me and for it, there is no light—the darkness of the night is not so merciful.
By Tsvetislav Vasilevabout a year ago in Poets
"In the Darkness of Night: A Prisoner of the Soul"
Happiness is a choice, they say, but how can one feel happy when the soul is dead? When the heart longs for two eyes long forgotten by the mind, yet thinking of them makes the heart ache, shedding bloody tears. It yearns to feel happiness, but darkness intervenes—there is no light for it, enveloped by the darkness of night.
By Tsvetislav Vasilevabout a year ago in Poets
A Letter to My Younger Self: The Lessons Life Didn’t Teach Me in Time
She sat in the old armchair of her tiny apartment, her hands trembling slightly. She had been through so much. Now, as the years were evident in the wrinkles on her face and the silver strands in her hair, she finally found the strength to write this letter. "If only I could go back and give this to myself," she thought.
By Tsvetislav Vasilevabout a year ago in Poets
