Historical
20 Rare Michael Jackson Facts You Probably Didn’t Know”
Have you ever thought you knew everything about Michael Jackson? Think again. The King of Pop stands as one of history’s most famous entertainers, and yet his life was chock-full of secrets most have never uncovered. From hidden talents and private hobbies to surprising facts about his music and personality, Michael Jackson's story is far more fascinating than anyone might imagine.
By iftikhar Ahmadabout a month ago in Fiction
To Dust
The world ended on a Wednesday. Not with fire or thunder or a sudden vanishing—just a quiet, almost polite collapse. The sun rose pale. The air tasted metallic. And the dust, fine as ash and soft as winter breath, drifted from the horizon like a slow-moving tide.
By Alexander Mindabout a month ago in Fiction
Coyote and The Border
“You want me to do WHAT??” Loki shook his head, glaring at the Creator. “Look, I don’t know what you’re getting at, but I didn’t think you’d be unwise enough to foist this off on Coyote. Just because I turned you down, this is your Plan B? The European god of chaos refused, so shove it onto the North American trickster god, because colonialism? Did you go mad, hanging on that tree?”
By Meredith Harmonabout a month ago in Fiction
The Fissure in the Frost: Beneath the Snowline. AI-Generated.
They had not escaped Brumewood at all. They were sleeping inside its family photo. Mara stared at the frame on the wall until the edges of the picture blurred. Clara, Michael, little Jonas. The same woman she had seen on the train, unchanged by ten years. The same child who’d sat on that empty lap. The same knitted hat. The same winter-blue eyes.
By DARK TALE CO. about a month ago in Fiction
The Fissure in the Frost: A Town That Pretends Not to See
They both knew, with chilling certainty, that going back home now was definitely not an option. London meant distance, yes. But it also meant walking away. From the pouch. From the child-shaped shadow in the trees. From the hands that had buckled Emilia’s knees at the edge of the platform.
By DARK TALE CO. about a month ago in Fiction
Wolves of Revolution. Content Warning.
“But you see, it’s not me. It’s not my family...” - Zombie, by the Cranberries -0- Grinding against ribs, the knife carried a drowning torrent of blood in its wake. The body of a young man fought against the inevitable. Limbs spasmed, fingers clawed impotently behind him, desperately trying to preserve themselves even as his airflow steadily choked off.
By Alexander McEvoyabout a month ago in Fiction
The Attic’s Silent Guardian. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
When we moved into the old farmhouse on the outskirts of Abbott Valley, I expected creaky floors, strange drafts, and maybe the occasional mouse. What I didn’t expect was the feeling of being watched—not in a frightening way, but in a way that resembled someone keeping an eye out for us. Protecting us.
By Mohammad umarabout a month ago in Fiction
SEASON 8 - Whispers from the Lantern: The Keeper's Lament
Chapter 15 The silence was a palpable thing, a heavy blanket that settled over the entire coast. Aris and his team stood in the now-calm lantern room, a profound sense of exhaustion washing over them. The Keeper was gone. The drowned were gone. The mournful lament was gone.
By Tales That Breathe at Nightabout a month ago in Fiction
Cleansed Now . Runner-Up in The Forgotten Room Challenge. Content Warning.
CONTENT WARNING: Some portions of this story may upset sensitive people or trigger bad memories. Liza occasionally took a glance out the window, giving her hands and eyes a quick rest from clothes ironing. Her hand ached from holding the heavy iron, and she wiped her brow with her apron. White round tufts on branches spread for acres, and she knew her children's hands would need loving care tonight from picking crops.
By Andrea Corwin 2 months ago in Fiction
To Dust. Top Story - December 2025. Content Warning.
Cassus stood before the locked and barred tomb. Twenty years before, he laid its inhabitants to rest. It was as tombs made by families of modest wealth tended to be: four columns supporting an angled roof festooned with griffins, unicorns, and humble men seeking their eternal forgiveness from the Crescent Sun. The bards would pack the tavern with that irony. Cassus laughed to himself and the effort turned to a rasping cough that made his knees buckle. He knew he’d receive no such forgiveness when they laid him to rest.
By Matthew J. Fromm2 months ago in Fiction
