Horror
Doctor's Orders
Donna was walking along past the same houses and shops she always walked past on her way home from work. She was in a good mood, as she had recently discovered she was due a promotion. Nothing was out of the ordinary until she was drawn rather magnetically towards a strange and uncanny door. What made it uncanny? She was unsure, but it felt decidedly "off." Not least of all because she had never seen it before.
By Paul Stewart2 months ago in Fiction
Unchained. Honorable Mention in The Forgotten Room Challenge. Top Story - November 2025.
It was time. For thirty years, the events of the past and the room where they took place hung over my head like the dreaded pendulum in Poe’s classic tale, The Pit and the Pendulum. I always thought that the further away I got from the evil room, both in distance and time, the horrifying events which happened there would fade away into oblivion. My choices were I could continue lying to myself the way I had been for most of my adult life, or I could take a stand and repair my broken life forever. I was being ridiculous. There was only one choice: face my fears and move ahead with my life.
By Mark Gagnon2 months ago in Fiction
Flash Fiction Friday - Prometheus
Something burned in his veins, like hot lava pumping through his body. He sat up quickly, shielding his eyes from the bright fluorescent lights overhead. Once he adjusted to the glare, he pulled his hand away, noticing a rolled-up piece of paper sticking out of his balled fist.
By John Watson2 months ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Exam Paper:. AI-Generated.
It became the stop of the semester at Karachi university, and the campus buzzed with the apprehensive power of students getting ready for very last tests. Ayesha, a diligent pupil, had spent weeks revising. on the morning of her literature examination, she arrived early, clutching her notes and seeking to calm her racing mind.
By The Writer...A_Awan2 months ago in Fiction
The Memory Orchard
The Memory Orchard glowed at the edge of the village like a small constellation that had fallen to earth. Every autumn, when the nights grew crisp and the river slowed to a sleepy trickle, the fruits began to shine—soft pulses of color hanging from the branches like captured lanterns. Their glow wasn't just light. It was memory.
By Abubakar khan 2 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Spoke to Shadows. AI-Generated.
The Boy Who Spoke to Shadows Rayan was eight when he first noticed the extra shadow. It appeared on a quiet November night — the kind where the cold crept under doors, and the moon shone bright enough to make the whole room glow silver. He had woken from a dream he couldn’t remember, his heart beating too fast, his throat too dry.
By shakir hamid2 months ago in Fiction
The Library That Remembered Her. AI-Generated.
The Library That Remembered Her Arman had not planned to walk that way. He never did. The old district near the abandoned harbor was a place he avoided — every street carried the faint echo of her laughter. But that night, the wind felt oddly familiar, almost like someone was guiding him by the sleeve. Before he could realize where his feet were leading, he was standing in front of a building he had never seen before.
By shakir hamid2 months ago in Fiction
Kitchen of Wynorrific. Top Story - November 2025. Content Warning.
Thanksgiving at the Greenfield household was always a mess. It’s something that I’ve dealt with since I was ten. Mom would be slaving away at the turkey and other things. While dad would be setting the table. Cleaning the living room and barking at me to take care of our large dogs.
By Raphael Fontenelle2 months ago in Fiction
The Last Lightkeeper
No one had lived in it for years—not since Elias Marrow vanished on a fog-heavy morning and left the shoreline without its keeper. Yet every evening at dusk, without fail, the lantern ignited. A thin beam of gold carved through the dark like a watchful eye, sweeping over the waves with mechanical precision.
By Iazaz hussain2 months ago in Fiction
The Timekeeper’s Last Message
In the towering, neon-soaked city of Zareenabad, where hover-cars zipped between sky-bridges and digital billboards painted the night with electric colors, lived a quiet mechanic named Arib Khan. His workshop was small, buried between high-tech repair shops and drone-delivery terminals, but Arib didn’t mind. He liked small spaces. They made the world feel manageable — predictable.
By Iazaz hussain2 months ago in Fiction
