Fantasy
The Forest of the Forgotten
Ellie hadn't planned on saying goodbye to anyone. The plan had been simple: prepare the mirrors, wait for Amnity to finish with the Council, and slip quietly into another world in search of answers about a past she couldn't remember. Clean, efficient, uncomplicated by sentiment or second thoughts.
By Parsley Rose 4 months ago in Fiction
Dust and Dreams
Zaryab had always felt a little different. Her mother used to say she was born with too much light in her eyes, as though her soul had stolen an extra spark from the stars before slipping into her body. At school, other children teased her for her strange habit of staring at the old tree outside their village—the great Dream Tree that bent its branches as if listening to the world. For generations, the villagers believed the Dream Tree held the weight of every person’s sleeping mind. Whenever someone died, a leaf curled in flame, turned to dust, and floated away on the wind.
By Shehzad Anjum4 months ago in Fiction
You and that Rascally Rabbit. Runner-Up in The Forgotten Room Challenge.
You’re born in a rural hometown, in the backroom of a mom and pop hardware store because your mother’s water broke three weeks early while they were shopping for a new hammer because your dad needed, he just needed, that new hammer because he couldn’t get the baby room finished just right.
By Amos Glade4 months ago in Fiction
THE KNOCK
It was a Tuesday night, the kind that folds in on itself, hushed and unremarkable. Rain had stopped just after dusk, leaving the world slick and smelling faintly of wet earth. Inside her small house at the edge of the woods, Clara sat curled in her armchair with a blanket pulled around her shoulders, a book open but forgotten on her lap. The stillness was almost too complete; even the old radiator had gone quiet.
By Pamela Dirr4 months ago in Fiction
Dr. Heckle and Mr. Jives
Author’s note: As you may have surmised by the title, this is a parody of the famous story, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Interestingly, Robert Louis Stevenson reportedly wrote his first draft in three days while sick in bed. This is meant as dark humor and should be read in that spirit. Enjoy!
By Julie Lacksonen4 months ago in Fiction
Tales from the Loom. Content Warning.
When technology finally caught up to the desire to live beyond a single lifetime, The Loom was born. It offered a person a chance to step into their own reality. Any life they imagined, complete and convincing in every detail. Inside, a year of experience was merely a minute in the real world. Their new reality around them was filled with people who could love, struggle, and die, yet the one who entered was spared from chance or tragedy. A wound, a fall, or a bullet became a miracle of survival, and only old age could bring their story to an end.
By Michael Noon4 months ago in Fiction
Don't go in the Attic. AI-Generated.
Don't Go in the Attic Chapter One: The Sisters Glenda Brady was the kind of woman who wore diamonds to breakfast and tantrums to dinner. She had never been told “no” without retaliation. Her older sister Carmen, by contrast, preferred the quiet hum of soil and sun. While Glenda chased champagne and silk, Carmen nurtured tomatoes and silence.
By Cindy Gimnes4 months ago in Fiction
Ms. Darling refuses to die.
Dear world or Whomever it may concern. Letter written in haste before I die, for I fear I may not escape her evil plans. I am Marjorie Greenwich, the estranged once best friend of Darlene Darling, who resides at #13 such and such road. To be read only on the event of my demise...or hers, whichever comes first. God only hope it is sooner rather than later, for she is not who she appears to be. Everyone though of her as a wonderful old lady.
By Antoni De'Leon4 months ago in Fiction
Silken Leaves: A Song of Autumn
In a quiet village nestled between fading forests and distant hills, lived an old man named Elias. His cottage stood at the very edge of the woods, where the scent of pine mingled with the sweetness of damp earth. Every morning, he walked the same path — a winding trail blanketed with fallen leaves, their colors fading from brilliant golds to deep russets.
By wahdatulla4 months ago in Fiction
The Emptiness Engine
The monastery of the Void Chapter was the quietest place in the known universe. It hung in the silence between stars, a simple asteroid hollowed out by centuries of meditation. Here, the monks practiced the Art of Release. They believed the cosmos was drowning in a cacophony of creation—a violent, wasteful struggle for more energy, more matter, more stuff.
By Habibullah4 months ago in Fiction
