Fantasy
The Iron Garden
🌿 A short story born from this art… The quiet came first, always. It settled in the hollow spaces between her ribs like morning mist, thick and deliberate. Then the weight — the familiar press of steel against collarbone, the slow ache in her shoulders where the pauldrons had learned the exact curve of her bones. She had forgotten what it meant to breathe without the armor’s permission.
By Prompted Beauty5 months ago in Fiction
Heroes Don’t Always Wear Badges
Heroes Don’t Always Wear Badges “Sometimes courage comes on two wheels, and kindness wears leather.” The rain pounded against the neon sign of Rust & Chrome, a biker bar tucked into the edge of town, the kind of place parents warned their children about. Inside, the air was thick with smoke, the clink of beer bottles, and the low growl of motorcycles idling outside. Men with tattoos, leather jackets, and faces hardened by life filled the bar, laughing, arguing, and daring one another to drink shots faster than their stomachs could handle.
By waseem khan5 months ago in Fiction
The Hotel That Never Lets You Leave
The Hotel That Never Lets You Leave “Where one night feels like forever, and forever feels like one night.” The rain was relentless that night. It drummed against the windshield as Ethan gripped the steering wheel, exhaustion tugging at his eyes. He had been driving for hours through winding country roads, searching for a place to rest.
By waseem khan5 months ago in Fiction
The Day Colors Vanished. AI-Generated.
1. The Morning of Silence It happened without warning. One morning, the sun rose over the city of Miran, but the light it spilled carried no warmth, no glow, no beauty. The sky was not blue. The flowers were not red. The trees were not green.
By Ihtisham Ulhaq5 months ago in Fiction
The Forest of the Forgotten
Amnity sat on the old tree stump. Her face was gentle and fair against the light blue and orange hue that engulfed the early morning hours surrounding her friendly metaphysical shop when I came walking up. Amnity had her nose deep in her white oak magic book with the golden-rimmed sheets of paper, and she was reading from it calmly. Crickets broke the silence, but not her attention as she read.
By Parsley Rose 5 months ago in Fiction
The Last Broadcast. AI-Generated.
The Last Broadcast The night shift was the loneliest shift in the city. By the time the clock struck midnight, the streets outside were empty, save for the hum of streetlamps and the distant moan of the wind. Inside Station WPRX, only one light burned: the studio booth of Midnight Letters, a radio show hosted by a man who called himself Solomon Grey.
By Rashid khan5 months ago in Fiction
The Library That Eats Memories. AI-Generated.
The Library That Eats Memories The storm had driven her off course. Amelia was not supposed to be here—half-drenched, her umbrella useless, trudging through an alley that felt older than the city itself. She was searching for shelter when she noticed it: a crooked wooden door wedged between two forgotten brick buildings. Above it, the faded sign read: The Library of Echoes.
By Rashid khan5 months ago in Fiction
The Message Written in the Sky
It was a quiet night, and the world seemed to hold its breath under a canopy of stars. Ali, a 22-year-old astronomy student, sat cross-legged on the rooftop of his modest house, his telescope angled toward the sky like a silent sentinel. Since childhood, he had been fascinated by the stars, often wondering if they were more than just glowing specks of gas suspended in an infinite void. But tonight, the stars had something unusual to share.
By Aman Ullah5 months ago in Fiction
