Fantasy

MARVEL/DC COMICS PRESENTS #9
Dr. Strange/Dr. Fate Baltimore, Maryland 1968 Doctor Stephen Strange, master of the mystic arts, woke groggily and found himself on the hardwood floor. He was for a moment unsure of his surroundings, but a sharp pain to his head and back reminded him. The room had flashing waves of energy that flickered about. It resembled the psychedelic art of the times. There was no mistaking the vast mystical forces at play before him. He saw the back of Doctor Fate. His golden cape flowing with the winds that were swirling about the room. His arms were outstretched and his golden gauntlets were crackling with golden mystic energy. There appeared to be a faint outline of an Egyptian ankh shaped by the mystic energy around them. Dr. Fate was engaged in mystic combat.
By Derrick Billups 3 months ago in Fiction
MARVEL/DC COMICS PRESENTS #8
Dr. Strange/Dr. Fate Baltimore, Maryland 1968 Dr. Stephen Strange and Kent Nelson entered the oddly cold apartment. They stepped through calm but alert. Slowly and carefully they walked through the hallway towards the stairs at the far end.
By Derrick Billups 3 months ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Atlas — Part 10: The Shoreline That Breathes
The world ended quietly—without fire, without judgment—only silence. By the winter of 2026, every map server in the world began returning errors.
By Wellova 3 months ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Atlas — Part 9: The Cartographer’s Echo
The night over Torrento was unnaturally silent. After the Gate 12 incident, the airport had been sealed for investigation. But rumors spread faster than official silence ever could — travelers spoke of lights moving beneath the runway, of whispers that came through the PA system in a language that wasn’t recorded in any archive.
By Wellova 3 months ago in Fiction
Blood Roses & Broken Vows. AI-Generated.
Aisha worked at a little flower shop near the docks. Her world was simple — petals, perfume, and prayers. She believed every wound healed with time, every heart rebuilt with love.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction
The Window Everyone Forgets. AI-Generated.
When Rehan moved into the quiet hill cottage, he wasn’t looking for magic — only silence. After years of city noise, heartbreak, and a life that felt too heavy to carry, he wanted peace. The cottage was old, wrapped in moss and forgotten flowers. Locals told him it once belonged to a writer who disappeared without a trace.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction
Handler’s Initiation Ch. 1
Chapter 1 February 17, 2199, 8:12am Ash and dust sifted through the broken skylight above Old Metro Line 7, tinting dawn light the color of dried blood. Houston Ward crouched on a cracked stair and held his breath, searching for sounds that didn’t belong—boots on tile, the click of a safety. All he heard was the tunnel’s tired breathing: water dripping somewhere far away, metal groaning under its own rust and decay.
By Idiotic Majesty3 months ago in Fiction
The Myth of the Rupture
By High Scribe Uriel of the Seventh Archive, in the Rein of the Forty-Third Matron. On the Nature of the Veil The unlearned say the Veil is a barrier—a wall between the living and the Deep Field.
By Kristen Keenon Fisher3 months ago in Fiction
The Second Stirring
(Fragment from the Book of Still Waters, Volume iv: "On the Birth of the Anchors." Banned after the 9th Council of Vethra.)
By Kristen Keenon Fisher3 months ago in Fiction
The Corridor That Remembered: A Record from the Faculty of Forgotten Rooms
"The dead only know one thing" -Private Joker, Full Metal Jacket “Naturally, this could be one of many things, but a thing nonetheless as you will come to learn. Nothing here is what is seems. This world might not scare you yet, but it will slither out of your mind long after your soul leaves your fleshly confines. So be wary of the witches who teach at night and prey by day. By this we know, as long as you have knowledge as your defense, and light as your guide you are safe, safe with me.” ~K.H. Obergfoll, first year studies from the Library Below “Academic Perfection” Circa Thirteen-Hundred and Fifty-Five, Witches Guild of All Things New and Retrieved: The Original.
By K.H. Obergfoll3 months ago in Fiction
The Alchemist of Miasma. AI-Generated.
The grief in Elara’s apartment had become a physical thing. It wasn't a metaphor. In the city of Umbracity, strong emotions often took on a half-life, a presence. Joy was a fleeting shimmer of light on the walls. Rage was the scent of ozone before a storm.
By Smyrna3 months ago in Fiction
Experiences May Differ
Just one look. Wouldn't hurt, would it? That's what they all say. That's what they never stop saying. Don't look through the keyhole. Don't tempt fate, don't push for the unseen to be seen. Don't strike up a parley with the unknown beyond the liminality of your doorway/doorframe. Still, what would the harm be in looking through the keyhole or the peephole? The peephole was designed by Abe Nichols and Joseph Spector, who patented their specific version of a concept that had existed for many centuries, and it became known as the optical door peephole or wide-angle door viewer.
By Paul Stewart3 months ago in Fiction