Psychological
Unraveling the Mysteries of the Whispering Woods: A Journey Through Enchantment
.Welcome to the mystical realm of the Whispering Woods, a place where magic intertwines with reality, and the very trees hold the secrets of centuries past. In this immersive journey, we delve deep into the heart of this enchanted forest, uncovering its rich history, exploring its mythical origins, and encountering the diverse inhabitants that call it home.
By quizat karim2 years ago in Fiction
Mother of The Woods. Runner-Up in Whispering Woods Challenge.
When Lilia listened to the woods, truly listened, the woods spoke back. It communicated, of course, not through mere words as humans did, but through ways of a more natural sort, a godlike sort, whispering sweet nothings to her through wisps of wind licking between her fingers. Its curling, giggling, lilting breeze tickled the hairs on her neck, making them stand at attention like a pack of hungry, primal beasts. The woods never pushed or pulled her this way or that; rather, the woods probed at her playfully, lovingly, as she walked past the beauty of it, immersing herself body and soul into its depths, letting the shrubs and ferns speak to her through those long, scratching traces they left along her exposed arms and legs, letting them tell her their meaning, their history. She closed her eyes and listened to them speak.
By angela hepworth2 years ago in Fiction
Heart and Bone. Second Place in Whispering Woods Challenge. Top Story - April 2024.
Worst. Birthday. Ever. Thirteen was supposed to be exciting. A time of beginnings, endings. A rite of passage, a door to individuality and maturity. She was supposed to be surrounded by friends and family, not alone in the mud on the forest floor. Well, she was not entirely alone; there was the voice. That almost made it worse.
By Scott C Lillard2 years ago in Fiction
The Ancients Know Secrets. Content Warning.
It started as a mere game of hide and seek in the Whispering Woods of our childhood. Not paying attention to the noises, as we were by then fully accustomed to the woods, we kept on playing and counting, giggling and hiding.
By Gabriela Trofin-Tatár2 years ago in Fiction
The Dreaming City
Nothing is quite in focus. Nothing is quite the same as the last time I was here. But it is all familiar. It’s a strange place, one that I am aware of without being able to control. Somewhere, deep down, I know that if I take this street, just turn left here and walk for as long as it takes, I’ll find the house.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Fiction
Beating Heart
Sicily | 1943 “Start at the beginning,” Rosalie said. “Soon after we arrived in Malta, we were kidnapped outside of a post office by a squadron of German and Italian soldiers - led by Nazi scientist and SS officer, Ulrich Kitzler and his bounty hunter - former German assassin - Nadine Holzer. They wanted the violin, and what we were smuggling inside of it. Our mission was to pass it along to a top-secret, international group of geological scientists who were embedded in Cyprus. Their existence was created to combat the occult, inappropriate, and world-dominating scientific expeditions of Hitler’s Nazi scientists. Luckily, the day before we were captured, we were able to mail the violin back to Canicatti.”
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
