Mystery

When Darkness Taught Me to See
The Night Everything Went Black I still remember the exact moment the world went dark. Not just the physical dark—the kind that creeps into a room when the power goes out—but the emotional one. The kind that settles into your chest quietly, like it has every right to stay there.
By Fazal Hadiabout a month ago in Fiction
Ghosts of Summer Rain
The Memory That Wouldn’t Leave Some moments stay with you long after you think you’ve moved on. Not because they haunt you in a frightening way, but because they whisper—softly, constantly—like rain hitting a window on a quiet afternoon.
By Fazal Hadiabout a month ago in Fiction
The Last Door in the Dark Hallway
There was a hallway in the old ancestral house where I grew up, a narrow corridor that always felt colder than the rest of the building. Even as a child, I sensed something uneasy about it, though no one ever warned me away from it. I would pass by with a book or a cup of tea, distracted by life, yet my eyes always wandered to the very end of that dimly lit passage. There, half lost in shadow, stood a door that looked as though it belonged to another century. Dust coated it so thickly that it seemed carved from the wall itself.
By Anas Khanabout a month ago in Fiction
The Crimson Frequency
The rain in Hollow Creek didn't wash things clean; it only seemed to press the grime deeper into the pavement, sealing the town’s secrets under a slick, reflective varnish. Detective Elias Thorne watched the rhythmic sweep of his windshield wipers, the rubber blades groaning against the glass like a dying breath. He had been driving for six hours, leaving the cacophony of the city behind for this forgotten stretch of the Pacific Northwest, a place where the towering pines grew so thick they choked out the daylight long before sunset. The case file on the passenger seat was thin—painfully thin given the severity of the crime—but the photographs spilled halfway out, revealing glimpses of a nightmare that shouldn't exist outside of Victorian horror literature or dark web conspiracy forums.
By Wellova 2 months ago in Fiction
There Was Something Crawling Under My Bed
The Night Everything Changed I was twelve years old the first time I heard it— a soft rustling sound coming from the dark space beneath my bed.
By Fazal Hadi2 months ago in Fiction
𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘪𝘵𝘺’𝘴 𝘚𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴
𝘏𝘰𝘰𝘬 — 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘏𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 Sometimes the quietest places hold the loudest truths. I learned that the night I wandered into the old tunnels beneath the city—
By Fazal Hadi2 months ago in Fiction
Edit Your Perfect Future Baby?
Date: 17th December 2075 Imagine stepping into a future where creating a child feels less like biology and more like art. A world where parenthood begins not with uncertainty, but with possibility. Where a couple doesn’t just hope their child gets the “good genes”… they choose them.
By Sakuni Bandara2 months ago in Fiction
A Night at the Haunted House
It was a crisp winter night. The full moon hung bright in the sky with a hazy glow around it, casting an eerie light over the dark neighbourhood. Luca, Lucia, Alis, Kile, and I, Helen, stood on the street in front of the gate in the waist-high stone wall leading up the path to the worn-down house that everyone said was abandoned and haunted. It was the infamous haunted house, known for its chilling tales and ghostly sightings, things moving without reason and lights going on and off with no one in the room.
By Hermione2 months ago in Fiction
The Last Light in Room 217
I wasn’t supposed to notice the light in Room 217. The hallway of the old boarding house was usually a tunnel of darkness after midnight, lit only by a dying bulb that buzzed like an insect trapped behind glass. I’d lived there for eight months—long enough to memorize the limits of its shadows, the way the wallpaper peeled in places like tired skin, and the sighs the wooden floorboards made under my steps.
By tosarkastikomouegw 2 months 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. 2 months 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. 2 months ago in Fiction
Can I Get You Another?
“Can I get you another?” In a dimly lit bar, where the air seems to sit still, and the wood seems to carry the invisible stains of thousands of years of service, a man of 58 years, wearing a suit and tie, sits with an empty glass in front of him. He lifts the glass, curious, then sets it back down. The noise of a door opening at the front of the bar is heard, but when the man wheels around he sees the large wooden door at the entrance closed tight. A faint laughter drifts overhead. He looks behind him but finds only a line of empty booths. The stools beside him are empty as well. He tilts his head back towards the ceiling and can barely make out the light fixtures, as though they’re hidden behind a layer of fog. A wave of uneasiness flows over the lone man at the bar. But he’s not alone, is he? “Didn’t I just hear someone”, he thinks.
By Tyler Tomson2 months ago in Fiction