Fable

The Last Library on Earth
The world had forgotten silence. Cities hummed with neon signs, drones filled the skies with their restless buzzing, and even the nights glowed with artificial daylight. Books, once the vessels of thought and memory, had become relics. People trusted the Cloud now, an endless stream of filtered data that shifted with every algorithm. History was rewritten at the swipe of a screen, truth became optional, and knowledge lived only as long as the next update.
By Jack Nod6 months ago in Fiction
Mystique 🧚
Mystique lived in a realm folded between the petals of twilight and dream - a beautifully vivid faerie sanctuary. The Grove of Lirael, is it's name, nestled between a secret reality not found on maps and a wonder which can only be glimpsed in the shimmer of dew on a spider’s web.
By Novel Allen6 months ago in Fiction
"Master These 10 Rules to Win Big in Life"
Introduction Success is not an accident—it is the result of intentional actions, consistent habits, and strategic thinking. In a world full of distractions, only those who master certain principles rise above the average. These rules are not just motivational fluff; they are proven methods followed by the world's top performers, entrepreneurs, leaders, and visionaries.
By Aman Ullah6 months ago in Fiction
Coffee Shop at the End of the World
Maya had always believed that the world would end with fire or ice, maybe a bang or a whimper—anything but the gentle hum of an espresso machine and the soft jazz playing from speakers that had seen better days. Yet here she was, wiping down tables at Brew & Beyond while the sky outside painted itself in shades of amber and crimson that had nothing to do with sunset.
By Fazal Ur Rahman6 months ago in Fiction
Built of Scales and Steel
"Stand up all the night and call the fight, let your mind before the light." The sky was ablaze with smoke, fire and glory. Ferocious dragons sweeping down like meteors to face the foolhardy heroes who answered the call to face them. Subversion, intimidation, exhaustion, extermination and annihilation were five types of military strategy we utilised throughout the war.
By Paul Stewart6 months ago in Fiction
The Book
He came to the city in the evening. The streets were narrow and led always upward. At the top, there was the library. The librarian waited for him at the door. He was very old and thin. Without a word, he turned and walked inside.
By Tom Baker6 months ago in Fiction
Rust Beneath the Skin. Content Warning.
The year was 1899, and the sea pressed itself endlessly against the coast of Whitcombe, a village where salt clung to the air and iron settled deep into every man’s bones. Fishermen cursed the waves even as they depended on them. Wives scrubbed clothes raw on the stones, while children hauled baskets of coal to homes already blackened with soot. And among them moved Clara Whitcombe, daughter of the late foundry master, who wore gloves even in the height of summer.
By E. hasan6 months ago in Fiction
The Pied Sniper
Those fools in the town below thought I would help them and they could simply stiff me on the bill. Oh, I’ll show them. I’ll show them, indeed.
By Stephen A. Roddewig6 months ago in Fiction
Silken Chains
Silhouettes of the female form were given flesh and bone. Silken skin glistened under the spotlight. Dry ice rose around our Icons as they danced atop their podiums in the Square. Heralded for their beauty, their movements were slight, powerful, and sensual.
By Paul Stewart6 months ago in Fiction
Honor. Top Story - August 2025.
All he had in his life was honor. In the corner of his small bedchamber, a smoldering ancestral votive with notes of incense, jasmine, and wildflower fought the stench of the world beyond. It was a futile effort. Moonlight reflected off his sword reverently held between two wooden pedestals. It was his father’s blade, cooled with honor by blood of the Emperor’s enemies.
By Matthew J. Fromm6 months ago in Fiction
LE SERPENT "The Snake"
At the dawn of the last century, everyone in Dijon knew Madame la Présidente de C—. She was the belle of the town: all dimples, lace, and painted smiles, with that same little serpent slithering across her lap like a favored lapdog. She would pet it in public, let it curl against her breasts as though it were her child—or her lover.
By Tom Baker6 months ago in Fiction
Of Morvannon and Sylwen
The forest was hushed beneath the moon, save for the silver song that drifted through the trees. Morvannon followed it,
By Kyle6 months ago in Fiction