Fantasy

The Last Stargazer
The cold was a thief. It stole the warmth from your breath, the feeling from your fingers, and, worst of all, it stole the light from the sky. On the world of Aethel, the stars were dying. For generations, they had vanished one by one, like celestial embers smothered by an encroaching, cosmic dark. With them went the magic they fueled and the hope they inspired.
By Alpha Cortex6 months ago in Fiction
Fearful, sensory AI Foibles.. Top Story - August 2025.
Somewhere Between the acceptance of AI and Myself...there hums a melody caught in neon lights, of question marks, interspersed with introspection and ambiguity. It suggests a liminal space, a blurred boundary between identity and artificiality, thought and algorithm. A conceptual direction we desperately need to explore.
By Antoni De'Leon6 months ago in Fiction
Echoes in the Empty Hall
Lena kicked a pebble along the cracked sidewalk, her sneakers scuffing the gravel as she passed the old school building. It was just past six, the sky fading to a soft lavender, and the air smelled of fallen leaves and damp earth. At seventeen, she was supposed to be home helping with dinner, but tonight, her feet had other plans. The abandoned school, with its sagging roof and ivy-choked bricks, had always been a backdrop to her walks home from the new high school across town. Her mom called it “the old heart of Mapleton,” full of stories from her own teenage years—dances, crushes, teachers who left a mark. Lena never paid much attention before, but lately, she’d felt restless, like she was searching for something to anchor her in this small town she sometimes dreamed of leaving.
By Thomas6 months ago in Fiction
The Hidden Door
Elliot Grayson was twelve, all elbows and knees, stuck in the middle of Willowbrook Middle School’s social shuffle. He wasn’t a nobody, but he wasn’t a somebody either—just a kid who doodled dragons in his notebook and dodged the lunchroom chaos. Deep down, he ached for something more, a spark to break the monotony of math homework and rainy days. One gray Tuesday, with rain pelting the school windows, Elliot slipped into the basement to escape a wild game of tag. That’s when he saw it: a wooden door tucked behind a stack of dusty textbooks, its surface carved with swirls that seemed to glow faintly, like stars trapped in wood.
By Thomas6 months ago in Fiction
The Call Came After Midnight
I was half-asleep when my phone rang. The screen lit up my dark bedroom, the name flashing across it like something out of a dream — or a nightmare.
By ETS_Story6 months ago in Fiction
“The Last Paper Crane”*
In a narrow lane where the sun barely touched the ground by midday, tucked between a tea stall and an old tailor’s shop, stood a small stationery store with peeling green paint and a wooden sign that read “Baba Jan’s Papers” in faded ink.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
pinot
i reach the corner of the street and turn left down a dark, dirt path. yes, the spooky branches and trees are here as well...but, i've made this walk so much that they aren't scary anymore.
By amiracdotes6 months ago in Fiction
Suppose Me
Norah was sitting on the balcony terrace alone. She was looking for fresh air at night while seeing the stars and moon in the night sky. However, somehow this night was very different. Her heart was beating fast until she squished her hands. She was closing her eyes to what had happened in her mind. It turned out she was overthinking about her past period. She admitted to having regret in the past.
By Mirda G6 months ago in Fiction
From Pajamas to Pirate Battles
William Sawyer went to bed at the same time every night. Not a minute earlier, not a minute later. His evening routine matched his daytime routine, utterly predictable, painfully ordinary, and completely unremarkable. Nothing ever changed, same tie, same job, same old same old. Nothing ever surprised him. And to be honest, that was exactly how William liked it.
By Bruce Curle `6 months ago in Fiction
*The Bench by the Lake*
There was a lake on the edge of a quiet town, half-hidden behind sycamore trees and tangled ivy. It wasn’t on any tourist map, and no signs pointed to it. But those who found it—by accident or ache—often came back.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
What Is the Difference Between a Poor Man and a Rich Man
What Is the Difference Between a Poor Man and a Rich Man If you ask most people about the difference between a poor man and a rich man, the first answer you’ll hear is simple: “Money.”
By waseem khan6 months ago in Fiction
The Red Mage and the Thief
The Emberlight Covenant The city of Jeuno rose from the cliffs like a dream of white stone, its spires tipped in banners that swayed in the salt wind. Bridges as narrow as a dagger’s edge arched over the chasms between towers and the streets hummed with the life of a hundred nations. Traders hawking wares from desert caravans and smiths hammering sparks into fresh-forged steel; wandering minstrels singing in tongues from the farthest reaches of Vana’diel.
By Cadma6 months ago in Fiction