Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Fiction.

The Lun Brothers. AI-Generated.
There is a story that originated from the Zuxin Island telling a tale of two dragon brothers. It is believed that the dragons were created by a unnamed God that dwelled amongst The Seven, but remains unknown till this day. This unknown God created the dragons of Ein, but, unlike the dragons of fable, they did not look as such. The image of the dragons are still left to wonder, leaving mortals with only depictions and speculated images of what they once looked like. After the cataclysmic fall of Malacath, which caused the break of the world to transpire and corruption to exist, the dragons became heavily corrupted which altered their makeup. They were changed into large lizard-like demi-Gods whose size ranged from the heights of the heavens themselves, down to the simplest of scalies. They had sharp horns adorn their heads and along their jaws and limbs. They had leathery wings with a wingspan that could encapsulate the entire sky and eclipse the sunar, basking the world in total darkness.
By Kelly Johnsona day ago in Fiction
The General's Dream. AI-Generated.
General Aldarius winds up accidentally saving the elkai prince who joined the army and ends up in the war with the volkin. The boy, age seventeen, is almost killed before General Aldarius comes to his rescue. Sensing that the boy didn't belong, he questions how the would be prince managed to get in the army in the first place. The prince explains that he joined the army because he wanted to prove to himself and his father that he was something more than just someone who sat in the background of life. He wanted to be more active. General Aldarius doesn't catch on that the boy is the King's son yet until the King himself issues a distress alert across the nation that his son has gone missing. Putting two and two together, this "random" boy who joined the elkai army happens to be the same boy that the King is looking for. He goes to question the boy once more about who he was and why he was in the army in the first place. The boy confesses that he is indeed the King's son and even though he lied about his identity, his reasons for joining the army remained true.
By Kelly Johnsona day ago in Fiction
Stalled System
With my eyes closed I ran our plan through my mind in the last moments before 22:00, when the next wave of service trucks en route to the facility, like a fleet of mindless ants, would pass our location. We stood silently along the edge of the drainage tunnel, murky water below trickling away from the facility, awaiting the signal from Moka’s flashlight that the trucks were on schedule. Bronum was positioned at the top of the access ladder, ready to pop the manhole cover for Pokia, the surest of all of us with securing a hook to the bottom of the trucks. In the worst case, if no one else could manage to secure a hook, when then our activity would positively be picked up by the road’s monitoring cameras, we could hope that Pokia would breach the facility.
By Adam Pallett2 days ago in Fiction
How to Maintain a Lighthouse During Prolonged Fog
Purpose A lighthouse exists to be consistent. It is not built for recognition, conversation, or feedback. It does not require acknowledgment from the ships that pass or the waters that threaten them. Its purpose is singular and unchanging: to remain operational.
By Melanie Rose2 days ago in Fiction
The Last Message on Seat 23B
When the plane landed, everyone jumped up at once. Seatbelts clicked open. Bags dropped from overhead bins. People were already checking their phones, already somewhere else in their minds. I stayed seated. Because the seat next to me—23B—was empty. It had been empty the whole flight. And now, sitting right in the middle of it, was a phone. For a second, I just stared at it. Maybe someone had forgotten it. That happens. I reached for it so I could hand it to the flight attendant. The screen lit up the moment I touched it. One message. I wasn’t trying to read it. But the words were already there. “If you’re reading this, I didn’t make it.” I froze. My stomach tightened in a way I couldn’t explain. I looked around the cabin, suddenly aware of how quiet it had become. Almost everyone had already walked off. A flight attendant waited near the door. The seat beside me was still empty. No jacket. No bag. No sign that anyone had ever been there. Just the phone. I Shouldn’t Have Looked… But I Did I told myself it was none of my business. But I couldn’t put it down. I opened the messages. There were dozens of them. All sent during the exact hours we were in the air. Each one to someone different. A sister. A coworker. Someone saved as “Mom.” None of them were dramatic. That’s what made them worse. “I’m not scared anymore. I just wish I had said everything out loud.” “Please don’t be angry at anyone. This was my choice.” My hands started shaking. I remember thinking, This feels too private. I shouldn’t be here. But I was already there. At the bottom of the thread was one message that hadn’t been sent. Just a draft. “If someone finds this, please tell them I was grateful for my life. Even the hard parts.” I sat there longer than I should have, holding something that didn’t belong to me… and somehow felt like it did. The Seat That Had No Name I finally stood and brought the phone to the gate desk. “Someone left this on the plane,” I said. “Seat 23B.” The agent typed for a moment, then frowned. “No one was assigned to that seat,” she said. I laughed nervously. “That can’t be right.” She turned the screen toward me. Every seat had a name. Except 23B. My chest felt tight in a way I couldn’t explain. “Could it be someone who missed the flight?” I asked. She shook her head. “No last-minute changes. That seat was empty.” I went home that night with the phone still in my bag. I didn’t know why. I told myself I’d turn it in the next day. But I couldn’t stop thinking about those messages. So I charged it. Who She Was Once it turned on, everything felt heavier. There was a calendar reminder. A hospital app. An email. The subject line stopped me cold: “Hospice Admission Confirmation.” Her name was Elena. She was 26. Terminal. In the notes app, I found something she had written: “I just wanted to sit in the sky one more time.” That was it. No long explanation. No dramatic goodbye. She had booked a ticket, come to the airport… and never boarded. She had left the phone behind. Not for attention. Not for sympathy. Just so someone—anyone—would know she existed. Why She Left It There was one final note in her drafts: “I don’t want speeches. I don’t want people to say I was brave. I just want one person to know I loved being here, even when it hurt.” I sat on my bed, holding a stranger’s entire ending in my hands. She hadn’t wanted to disappear without a witness. And somehow… that witness became me. Giving Her Back to the World I contacted the numbers in the phone. Her sister answered. She cried when I explained where I found it. “She said she didn’t want a hospital room to be the last place she existed,” her sister whispered. “We thought she just… never went.” I mailed the phone back. Two weeks later, I received a letter. Inside was a small photo. Elena was standing in front of an airport window, sunlight on her face, smiling like someone who had already made peace with everything. On the back, her sister had written: “You were the stranger she hoped would find her words.” What Seat 23B Taught Me I still think about that flight. About how someone who knew their story was ending didn’t leave behind noise. Just honesty. No post. No announcement. No goodbye speech. Just a quiet message meant for someone who wasn’t even part of her life. And I realized something that day: Sometimes people don’t want to be remembered by the world. They just want one person to know they were here. And somehow… that person was me.
By Mustafa2 days ago in Fiction
Instructions From The Neighborhood Watch
Attention: This is a formal announcement from "The Neighborhood Watch." Attention - "All Walkers" And I Mean All The Walkers- Men- Women-Children-The Elderly
By Gregory Payton2 days ago in Fiction
The Sessions
The letter did not accuse him of anything. That bothered Balin McLeod more than if it had. DEPUTY BALIN McLEOD, YOU ARE REQUIRED TO ATTEND SCHEDULED SESSIONS WITH THE TOWN MEDICAL OFFICE.
By Jesse Lee2 days ago in Fiction
Emotions and ideas of a Rainbow
“The rainbow has such a beautiful tint to it. The colors permeate into my very soul.” “What do you mean permeate?” “The red seeps into my skin with anger, enjoyment, love, and life. Red is a strong color that makes me dance inside with desire. It gives me the energy of love but says hello I am dangerous. It brings excitement. Makes your heart rate go up quickly and can contribute to arousal in ourselves. Red stresses the intensity of the positive and negative thoughts that corrode our very being. Red prompts quicker decisions in us that can be rash decisions at times. In Africa red can symbolize mourning and death of life.”
By Tabitha Hinkley2 days ago in Fiction
I Still Receive Messages From My Wife—Three Years After Her Funeral
Every message knows something only the dead should remember By Anees Ul Ameen The first message arrived on a quiet Sunday night, exactly three years after my wife’s funeral.
By anees2 days ago in Fiction
The Letters That Arrived Too Late
The first letter arrived on a Tuesday morning, sealed in blue wax and addressed in handwriting that Emma instantly recognized.
By Asghar ali awan2 days ago in Fiction
The Town That Forgot Tomorrow
The town of Bellmere had one strange rule: no one talked about tomorrow. At first, Maya thought it was a joke. She had arrived in Bellmere on a rainy evening, her car breaking down just beyond the town sign. The sign itself was old and rusted, with faded letters that read: Welcome to Bellmere. Nothing unusual until she asked the mechanic when her car would be ready.
By Asghar ali awan2 days ago in Fiction
Compliance
We were both home, which should have meant nothing could change without one of us noticing. That assumption lasted longer than it should have.
By Courtney Jones2 days ago in Fiction