Psychological
Home for the Holidys
Snow blanketed the winding road as Nora drove toward the old family estate, her hands tight on the wheel. She hadn’t been home in years, not since the screaming fights and slammed doors that marked her departure. But her mother’s voice on the phone—quivering, pleading—had cut through her resolve.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
The Krampus Pact
Snow fell in soft, soundless flurries outside the Anderson family’s house, but inside, the air crackled with tension. Christmas Eve should have been joyous, but years of resentment had turned it into an annual battlefield. The family had gathered reluctantly—mother Janice, father Greg, their teenage daughter Holly, and her younger brother Max—but the holiday spirit was nowhere to be found.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
Sweet Pumpkin Soup. Content Warning.
The taste of sweet pumpkin soup spread warmth through her body. She couldn’t help but smile as she gazed into the eyes of her saviour. He lifted the spoon, steady and patient, as if each mouthful mattered. He had learned the recipe just for her. His creamy, homemade pumpkin soup reminded her of childhood—of being looked after when illness took over. This was how he showed his endless care for her.
By Sharna Halliwellabout a month ago in Fiction
A Breath of Air and Light. Content Warning.
“Here, piggy piggy…” The Mokum stood eerily still, crouching near a vent and cycling through its memories from the previous compact. It attempted to locate the source of the whisper. The Mokum turned in all directions, flashing a floodlight on the now-illuminated room around it, but to no avail. The whisper did not repeat.
By Roman Haleabout a month ago in Fiction
listen
Listen, focus and concentrate. I am going to explain to you what happened and why. It hurts me to remember it and hurts more to say it out loud. So this will be the full sorry tale, there will be all the information you need and at the end there should be no questions. If I miss anything out you will have to ask someone else. I am getting old and tired, just want to get a few things off my chest before I go.
By ASHLEY SMITHabout a month ago in Fiction
The Man Who Vanished at the Bus Stop:. AI-Generated.
It was just another midnight at the bus stop. The air was heavy with the scent of rain, the streetlight above flickered as if struggling to stay alive, and the crowd around me seemed as ordinary as ever. Students with backpacks, office workers scrolling through their phones, and a few faces staring blankly into the distance. Nothing in that moment suggested it would turn into a story I would never forget.
By The Writer...A_Awanabout a month ago in Fiction
