Fan Fiction

The Whispering Heart
No one knew how old the Great Oak was, or who had first discovered its secret. The tree stood at the heart of the woods, a gnarled giant with a hollow in its trunk so large a child could crawl inside. But it wasn't empty. It was a library. Not for books, but for feelings. They called it the Whispering Heart.
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
The Ghost in My Reflection
𝘐 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘈𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦—𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘐 𝘚𝘢𝘸 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘉𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘈𝘵 𝘔𝘦 It happened on a night when everything felt too heavy to carry.
By Fazal Hadi2 months ago in Fiction
The Night Postman Who Delivered Forgotten Hearts. AI-Generated.
The city was a mosaic of silence after midnight — windows dim, roads empty, and the sky stitched together with thin, patient stars. Most people slept. Most people dreamed.
By shakir hamid2 months ago in Fiction
'FRANKENSTEIN' - A LONELY SOUL (REVIEW)
In Guillermo del Toro's "Frankenstein", the monster created by anatomist Victor wants to be loved but is rejected. Guillermo del Toro is a director of the unusual, who always finds beauty in the soul behind the unusual appearance. From Hellboy, The Shape of Water to Pinocchio, the characters, whether demons, mermaids or wooden puppets, all have kind hearts. In Frankenstein, a project that has been cherished for more than two decades, the Mexican director returns to the world of science fiction stories, but this time delves into the tragedy between father and son, between creator and created creature.
By HieuDinh2 months ago in Fiction
The Field Beyond the Fence
The Abernathy Academy Gleaning Club was, for all its good intentions, an exercise in optics. It was the pet project of Isabella Sterling, student council president, and the perfect bullet point for her college applications. "Community engagement," she'd declared. "It shows leadership and empathy."
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
Whispers in the Windmill
I never believed in village folklore. Not when I was a child running through the wheat fields, not when I left for the city at eighteen, and certainly not when I returned years later with more mistakes than belongings. But folklore has a strange way of waiting for you, especially in small places where stories cling to the air like dust.
By Jhon smith2 months ago in Fiction
How the Conflict Nearly Escalated into Full War
How the Conflict Nearly Escalated into Full War For years, the region had lived under a cautious balance—an invisible thread of pressure between Pakistan, India, and Afghanistan. Diplomats called it “controlled tension,” generals called it “the edge,” and civilians prayed it would never snap. But last week, the impossible nearly happened. For seventeen hours, the region stood just one wrong move away from a full three-front war.
By Wings of Time 2 months ago in Fiction
The House That Only Appeared When I Was Sad
The House That Only Appeared When I Was Sad By Hasnain Shah The first time I saw the house, I thought I had simply taken the wrong path home.
By Hasnain Shah2 months ago in Fiction
[Reddit Post] Housekeeping found a room that shouldn’t exist.
Posted by u/GraveyardFrontDesk – r/NoSleep I’ve worked the front desk at our hotel for six years. It’s an older place — six floors, seventy-something rooms, built in the late ’70s and “renovated” (poorly) a decade ago. If you’ve ever worked in a hotel, you know the routine weirdness: creaky vents, drunk guests, elevators that ding for no reason. You learn to shrug most things off.
By V-Ink Stories2 months ago in Fiction
[Reddit Post] The hotel pool never reflects properly at night.
Posted by u/NightShiftClerk — r/NoSleep I’ve been working nights at the Fairbridge Suites for almost four years now. It’s not a bad gig — quiet most of the time, good pay, free coffee. I used to think the creepiest part of the job was the occasional drunk guest or flickering hallway light.
By V-Ink Stories2 months ago in Fiction
[Reddit Post] The same guest checks in every Thursday… and dies every Friday morning.
Posted by u/GraveyardFrontDesk — r/NoSleep I work the overnight shift at a small roadside hotel just outside Denver. It’s quiet most of the time — truckers, couples who don’t want their names on anything, salesmen passing through. You get used to the silence, the humming ice machine, the smell of burnt coffee, and cheap disinfectant.
By V-Ink Stories2 months ago in Fiction
The Emergency Exit
I opened the exit door during a routine check… and it didn’t lead outside. Hey everyone. I work as an usher at a pretty normal, mid-sized movie theater. You know the type—sticky floors, minimum wage, endless popcorn, and managers who think “teamwork” means doing three jobs at once. Nothing glamorous.
By V-Ink Stories2 months ago in Fiction