Thriller
Neverchangeable | Chapter 5
<< Click here to start from the beginning (Chapter 0) < Click here to read Chapter 4 The police force everyone who doesn’t have a legal right to be on the property to clear out. Guests are checked one by one as they cross the bridge back to civilization. In the corner of the barn, Mrs. Developer attempts to calm down the little girl’s mother.
By sleepy draftsabout a year ago in Chapters
The Silver Veil - Chapter 1
The story is set in a sprawling, magical city where the ruling elite wield arcane powers to maintain control. Cassian, a thief with a mysterious past, accidentally discovers a forbidden artifact during a routine heist. This artifact, the Silver Veil, grants him the ability to see into other dimensions, revealing a hidden barrier between worlds. However, this newfound power comes with a curse—visions of other realms that threaten to drive him mad.
By Samrah Sayyedabout a year ago in Chapters
Before It Ends. Top Story - January 2025. Content Warning.
When we are children everything seems to have a conspiracy or scary story around it. We make up stories of the things that go bump in the night. We have such a naïve side that we often believe the stories we tell, exaggerating them more each time they are shared with our friends. Sometimes we make up stories based on bits and pieces that we hear the adults around us talking about, and other times we take actions based on those bits and pieces, not realizing what a mistake that can be.
By Luna Verityabout a year ago in Chapters
Money Heist 🎭
Money Heist is a Spanish heist crime drama tele- vision series created by Álex Pina. The series traces two long-prepared heists led by the Professor one on the Royal Mint of Spain, and one on the Bank of Spain, told from the perspective of one of the robbers, Tokyo The story is told in a real-time-like fashion and relies on an unreliable narrator, flashbacks, time-jumps, and hidden character motivations for complexity.
By Masthan Shaikabout a year ago in Chapters
Major Study Links 15 Factors to Early Dementia Risk
while dementia is tons extra commonplace in older adults, masses of thousands of people are diagnosed with young-onset dementia (YOD) every year, and an intensive examine published in 2023 sheds a few massive mild on why.
By John Williamabout a year ago in Chapters
The Seventh Hour
The Seventh Hour The town of Eldergrove was known for its silence—a kind of stillness that hung over it like an unspoken rule. The townsfolk spoke in hushed voices, moved with purpose, and never lingered outside after sunset. It was a place where secrets nested in every shadow and every clock seemed to tick just a bit slower. But the most unsettling thing about Eldergrove was the ancient clock tower that loomed over the town square. Its hands had been frozen at seven o'clock for as long as anyone could remember.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Chapters
Neverchangeable | Chapter 3
<< Click to read from the beginning (Chapter 0) < Click to read Chapter 2 On the security camera app installed on my cell phone, I watch the nothingness on the screen. In front of me, Farley walks across the bridge. It’s the same easy walk he’s had from since when we were kids. He doesn’t look back which makes it easy to take a moment and dip into my pixelated reverie. The cabin is black and grey except for the clump of dim white glow near the bottom corner of the screen. No sound comes from the room, no footsteps or crackling of a wood-burning fire from when Farley and I were kids. Even in the middle of the day, the room on the screen is midnight dark.
By sleepy draftsabout a year ago in Chapters
Neverchangeable | Chapter 2
<< Click to read from the beginning (Chapter 0) < Click to read Chapter 1 I look to you, slumped in the corner, as if awaiting your approval. My one remaining eye has adjusted more now. I can see more than just your rubbery skin, neon with death in front of me, and the single, shiny eye of the camera. I can make out the moose head I know is there, the overstuffed loveseat, the long, leather sofa under Auntie Rachel’s watercolour paintings. The ones she made when she got brain cancer. I can see the radiation on those paintings, green and luminescent, sparkling like the snowy landscapes they depict. The radiation poured from her pupils as she transferred the images from her mind to the coarse paper. Snowy hills, like clean, fresh starts, the radiation underneath only visible to me. Like two weeks from now, when the tourism season will officially be over, when winter will come, and here you and I will be. The two of us, alone, at last. Like it should have always been.
By sleepy draftsabout a year ago in Chapters
Neverchangeable | Chapter 1
< Click to read Chapter 0 Farley won't stop fucking around with his hunting knife. The sound sets my teeth on edge. The bridge has transformed over the two years since I sold it, most of the change happening within the last one. The limestone has been reinforced, no longer crumbling at random intervals, and signs have been put up at both ends with detailed directions on how to get through the forest safely and with ease. Different trails are marked with either green, orange, or red lines to allow tourists to select their difficulty. None of the trails are truly difficult anymore, though. None, except the unmarked ones. Farley’s face twists in disdain when he sees the sign, wide and dummy-proof.
By sleepy draftsabout a year ago in Chapters
Neverchangeable | Chapter 0
I smile up at the camera. A past version of me, a ghost version, sits hunched over a laptop in a dark room and watches the grainy, bluelight images move across his screen. I picture being that other version of me right now, the one that doesn’t exist, staring blankly, hungrily at the scene. Finally, I hear him think, something different. He hasn’t realized it’s us yet – me, him – and so he laps up the image. Two slumped over figures, one barely human anymore, the other a black-and-white night vision phantom of a man, smiling at the camera. His one eye glows, a white ring of two-dimensional fire that burns into the lens. The other eye is a wet slit, open, gooey, dripping, the membrane now a soft, stretched sock drooping over the eyelid, the kind of sock Farley and I used to hit each other with, with tennis balls dropped down in to the toes, the kind you used to hate. I shudder, look sideways with my one eye at the barely human figure slumped beside me, at once the man in the night vision scene again. You would not have approved of this. Not one bit. I look back at the camera, attached to the nose of the moose Farley had killed when we were fourteen, the camera I put up after Dad died. You would have been mortified. Would have called me indecent. I would have told you, it’s called being smart. You and I both know, you would have seen through that.
By sleepy draftsabout a year ago in Chapters
