Fantasy

The Library of Forgotten Memories
The Library of Forgotten Memories I had always loved libraries. The smell of paper, the quiet hum of readers, the way sunlight sliced through high windows onto worn wooden tables—it was a sanctuary.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Fiction
I Read My Future in the Library’s “Lost and Found”
I Read My Future in the Library’s “Lost and Found” The first time I opened the “Lost and Found” box at the Maple Street Public Library, I wasn’t looking for anything.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Fiction
The Man Who Knew How You’d Die
The Man Who Knew How You’d Die The bus smelled faintly of wet asphalt and stale coffee. It was late—past midnight—and only a handful of passengers sat scattered in their seats, staring at their phones or watching the city blur past.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Fiction
A Grimm’s Fallen. Content Warning.
As a young child, Mistie was a strange creature. His wings and hair were white, which was seen as a omen of bad fortune. In addition, he had more than one pair of wings, which labeled him as a cursed child. But Mistie was smart, and wanted to know more about the world.
By Natalie Irene Gonzales 6 months ago in Fiction
The Vessel. Top Story - August 2025.
It had been a long day. She had day surgery. Kat went to bed early, at August sunset. ~ She lived by the ocean, close to the naval base.
By Katherine D. Graham6 months ago in Fiction
The Lighthouse's Whisper
The sky was streaked with faded gold and bruised purples as the sun's last rays disappeared beneath the horizon. The first lantern was lit by Lina, and the warm flame flickered in the refreshing salt air. Her community constantly braced itself against the wind and the waves by clinging to the cliffs like a stubborn barnacle. She tended the flame that protected sailors every night as she made her way up the twisting road to the lighthouse. Her family had held the honor for many centuries, and the villagers referred to her as the Lantern Keeper.
By Muzamil khan6 months ago in Fiction
The Astronaut Who Broke Down on Mars
No one ever talks about the silence. Not the kind you find in a library, or a late-night street, or a quiet bedroom. This was heavier—like the air itself was gone, and all that was left was the sound of my own blood moving in my ears.
By Emad Iqbal6 months ago in Fiction
The Doll That Grew Up With Me
When I was six years old, my grandmother gave me a porcelain doll for my birthday. She had chestnut hair in soft curls, eyes the shade of storm clouds, and a pale blue dress with lace at the cuffs. Her name was stitched into a tiny fabric tag at her waist: Clara.
By Hamid6 months ago in Fiction
Bees In The Honey
He saw the slightest glint of metal from across the valley, their signal to prepare, and offered his own quick glint in the midday sun. Sheathing his knife, Ranger Captain Grambel checked his bowstring one last time. It should have been in perfect order, he’d checked it at least four times today, but on this last inspection he saw it–the smallest of burrs attached just below the string nock. It was a little thing, and he pulled it off all the same.
By Matthew J. Fromm6 months ago in Fiction
*The Whispering Library*
In the quiet corner of a forgotten town stood a library older than memory. Its stone walls were veiled in ivy, its windows perpetually misted, as though the building breathed in secrets and exhaled silence. Most people passed it without a glance. Few dared to enter. But Amina did.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
The Last Library Card. AI-Generated.
The first time Lena saw the library card, it was lying on the sidewalk outside the closed doors of the Ridley Street Library.
By MUHAMMAD BILAL6 months ago in Fiction
"The Tattoo Master of the Damned". 🩸
The devil stands above his captor, taunting...daring him to create the perfect inked irezumi...the only way to free himself. Frenziedly, the artist sketches...he must ink bold designs featuring mythical creatures...vibrant, nature motifs and folklore. His aim...to lure more victims to his captor's lair.
By Novel Allen6 months ago in Fiction