Vito V. Vale
Bio
I write about broken minds, monstrous hearts, and the beauty buried between. We all carry things we never name. My stories live in the shadows between choice and consequence.
Stories (7)
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A wicked man
The candle burned low in the cramped room, casting long shadows over the peeling wallpaper. Vanya sat hunched at the table, his fingers trembling over a half-written parchment. His stomach ached - not from hunger, though he had not eaten - but from the weight of a thought he dared not speak aloud.
By Vito V. Vale5 months ago in Horror
I came from Earth
A shard of a world drifted in the cosmic void. An island of dirt and stone suspended in stars. Earth-like trees twisted through cracks in concrete, their roots drinking from long-dead gutters. Rusted skeletons of machines lay half-buried in moss and silence. The sky above was a tapestry of forgotten constellations, unrecognizable even to those who once named them.
By Vito V. Vale8 months ago in Fiction
A mother’s rage
I used to drive my mom up the wall—literally—with a rubber ball. Thwack, thwack, thwack against my bedroom wall, each bounce a tiny rebellion that made me grin like a fool. I’m not proud of it, but her fury was comedy gold. She’d burst in like a one-woman SWAT team, all five feet of her, eyes blazing, nostrils flaring like a cartoon bull. “Stop that racket!” she’d bellow, and I’d stifle a laugh, knowing I’d do it again tomorrow.
By Vito V. Vale8 months ago in Families
The day I saw myself wave back
They uprooted the bench like a corpse from the earth. Three of them—young, twitching with energy, shouting things I didn’t catch. The bench groaned under their pulling, its metal legs shrieking as they twisted it loose. It was obscene, how easily they defiled something meant for stillness. I watched, and the old feeling returned.
By Vito V. Vale8 months ago in Horror
