Fan Fiction
The Mirror Draft. AI-Generated.
Ethan Ward was a literature professor at Hillcrest University — a quiet man who loved solitude more than social events. His students called him “The Ghost Teacher” because of how silently he moved through the halls. He wasn’t rude — just lost in thought, like someone living between two worlds.
By Ghanni malik3 months ago in Fiction
The Bench at Platform 4
By [Asghar ali awan] Every morning, the same whistle pierced the crisp air of dawn. The 7:45 train slid into Platform 4, a routine so familiar that even the pigeons seemed to know the schedule. Amidst the hum of engines and the murmurs of sleepy commuters, there was always one old wooden bench, worn smooth by years of waiting and two strangers who sat on it.
By Asghar ali awan3 months ago in Fiction
[UPDATE] I was the only one working the night shift… so who checked in Room 409?
Hey everyone, I didn’t expect my last post to blow up the way it did. I just needed to vent about something weird that happened at work, but apparently, it freaked a lot of people out.
By V-Ink Stories3 months ago in Fiction
I was the only one working the night shift… so who checked in Room 409?
I’ve been working night shifts at a small roadside hotel for about two years now. It’s one of those places off the interstate that looks like it’s been “under renovation” since the ‘90s — faded carpets, buzzing neon vacancy sign, vending machines that still take quarters. It’s quiet most nights, which is exactly how I like it.
By V-Ink Stories3 months ago in Fiction
The girl I was supposed to marry
Back ground: This story is about a boy who does not obey his father and goes hunting in the forest with his bad friends. The boy name is Mr. John and he has a very bad friend who's name is watson. Mr. Nawab is one of the richest man of his city. He has a house in the main city and one big house in the village as well.
By Muhammad Humayun3 months ago in Fiction
The Synthetic Garden
The air in the Eden Dome was perpetually spring. Dr. Aris Thorne walked her daily rounds, her footsteps silent on the polished path. Around her, the garden flourished in a symphony of engineered perfection. Sapphire-blue roses that never dropped a petal. Trees whose leaves shifted through a curated palette of sunset colours on a precise loop. Orchids that hummed a gentle, C-sharp melody to aid meditation. It was the pinnacle of botanical science, a haven of flawless beauty in a world where true wilderness was a toxic memory.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
A Room Full of Memories
A Room Full of Memories The attic smelled of cedar and dust — the kind of scent that wraps around old memories and refuses to let them go. Daniel hadn’t been up here since he was a teenager. Now, standing in the doorway with a box of cleaning supplies and a heart heavy with absence, he realized he didn’t know where to begin.
By Abdul Muhammad 3 months ago in Fiction
