Adventure
Operation Missile-toe
“Johnson, come in. Close the door and have a seat.” “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” “I’ll cut to the chase. I’ve got a job for you. We’re going to need your best guys on this, and I know I don’t have to say this, but I’ll need your full discretion. It’s a sensitive operation and I chose you specifically. You’re still single, right? No kids?”
By Leslie Writes24 days ago in Fiction
Gentle & Healing
We learn how to care for others, how to show compassion, patience, and understanding—yet when it comes to our own hearts, we become harsh critics. Healing begins the moment we decide to speak to ourselves with kindness instead of judgment. Gentleness is not weakness. It is strength wrapped in softness. It is choosing peace over pressure and progress over perfection. ealing Starts With Awareness Many emotional wounds are not visible. They live quietly in our thoughts, shaped by past disappointments, unmet expectations, and words that once hurt us. Often, we carry these wounds without realizing how deeply they influence our daily lives. Healing begins when we become aware of our inner dialogue. Ask yourself: How do I speak to myself when I fail? When I feel tired? When I fall behind? If your inner voice is critical or unforgiving, it may be time to replace it with gentler words—words that heal instead of harm.
By Awa Nyassi25 days ago in Fiction
CRIMSON VOW
The first thing she heard was laughter deep slow and cruel echoing through concrete walls while cold water dripped on her face and the smell of iron and blood filled her lungs when Lyra Hale opened her eyes she realized she was tied to a chair in a dark warehouse surrounded by men who carried guns like toys and scars like trophies she did not scream because fear had already burned her voice away and when the footsteps approached her heart stopped because she knew that sound belonged to him Roman Vale the king of the Crimson Syndicate the man whose name ended lives without bullets the man she hated before she ever saw his face he stopped in front of her studying her like a broken weapon worth fixing or discarding and instead of threatening her he smiled and said she was not supposed to be there and that single sentence terrified her more than any knife because it meant she was now part of his world a world where people disappeared and love was a weakness Roman ordered his men to untie her not to free her but to see if she would run and Lyra stood on shaking legs staring into the eyes of the man who ruled the city through fear and silence and in that moment something dangerous sparked between hatred and curiosity because Roman Vale did not look at her like prey he looked at her like a challenge
By Diab the story maker 25 days ago in Fiction
NEON BLOOD EMPIRE
The night the city tried to kill her the sky was burning red and the alarms never stopped screaming and Nyx Virel stood in the middle of Sector Nine with blood on her hands not all of it hers watching a skyscraper collapse like a dying giant behind her while drones hunted her name through the air the city of Axiom Prime was not supposed to look afraid it was built to dominate to control to erase weakness but tonight it was trembling because Nyx had stolen something that was never meant to be touched the Core Seed a living quantum intelligence buried under the city for two hundred years and every gang every syndicate every artificial god connected to the grid wanted her dead Nyx did not run because she was scared she ran because standing still meant extinction and as she jumped across broken rails and burning streets memories flashed of the moment she met Kael Draven the man who taught her how to survive how to shoot without hesitation how to love without fear and how to trust in a world that punished trust the moment she landed hard on the steel bridge her comm crackled with his voice calm sharp alive telling her he was coming that he would get her out like he always did but this time the city itself had turned into a weapon and the gangs were not just criminals anymore they were armies enhanced by illegal cybernetic rituals feeding on fear and data and Nyx knew this was no longer a job gone wrong this was war and she was at the center of it whether she wanted to be or not
By Diab the story maker 26 days ago in Fiction
The Place Where Evenings Pause. AI-Generated.
The bus arrived later than promised, which felt appropriate to Naila. The town had never been good at keeping exact time. It preferred approximation—late afternoons, early evenings, moments that drifted rather than arrived.
By Mehwish Jabeen26 days ago in Fiction
When the Road Learned My Name. AI-Generated.
The road had always been louder than the village. It hummed beneath tires, carried dust into the air, and promised elsewhere with every passing vehicle. For years, Sameer believed that sound meant progress. That motion meant meaning. Standing still felt like being forgotten.
By Mehwish Jabeen26 days ago in Fiction
The Weight of Ordinary Days. AI-Generated.
Every morning at exactly seven-thirty, Imran unlocked the shop. Not earlier. Not later. The key turned with a soft resistance he had memorized years ago. The bell above the door rang once, then settled. He switched on the lights, straightened the counter, and placed the ledger in the same position it had occupied for as long as he could remember.
By Mehwish Jabeen26 days ago in Fiction
