Psychological

The Man Who Sold Tomorrow. AI-Generated.
Gregor Vale had always believed time was not a river, but a marketplace. In the back corner of an old European alley, behind fogged glass and a tarnished brass sign, stood his tiny workshop — Vale & Sons: Custom Clocks Since 1882.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction
The Observer
What we find may cost much more than we know. 📦🕰️🖼️📖 It was another evening of no social calls or friends for Albert Monterio — the introverted historian genuinely preferred archiving subjects for historical research.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin3 months ago in Fiction
THE KYOTO MOCHI INCIDENT: WHEN A CULTURAL TRADITION BECOMES THE INTERNET’S FAVORITE NIGHTMARE
Let’s be honest about how you found this. You were likely lying in bed, the blue light of your phone illuminating the dark room, your mind on autopilot as you scrolled through an endless stream of dance challenges and cooking hacks. Then, suddenly, your thumb stopped.
By Wellova 3 months ago in Fiction
Complicit. Runner-Up in The Forgotten Room Challenge.
Forsaken, I am but a memory — dilapidated, some say; laid to rest in history’s mausoleum. The dank air, my only companion.
By Paul Stewart3 months ago in Fiction
🌙 “Grandma’s Last Petal”
---Story Begins I was eleven years old when my grandmother first showed me the flower. It lived in an old glass jar, the kind that used to hold honey years before I was born. The jar sat on the smallest shelf in her room — the one I wasn’t allowed to touch unless she was with me.
By Muhammad Kashif 3 months ago in Fiction
Bleeding Tree
In the mornings, sunlight would enter my window at an angle that cast large shadows of toys on the floor. The long shadow arms of the action figures reminded me of orangutans. I didn’t see any shadows that day, because my dad didn’t wake me up at the usual time. In fact, he didn’t wake me up at all. Instead, my growling stomach did, and so I went looking for him. He’d been making me breakfast for the past two years since Mom got taken away. Sure, I was old enough to make my own, but his just tasted better.
By Melodramatic Maladies of the Mystical Mind3 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 Gagnon3 months ago in Fiction
The King of Prussia. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
In the cold halls of Berlin Palace, the King of Prussia stood by his window, watching snow fall on his kingdom. His name was Frederick, but his people called him the Great.
By Temmyboost3 months ago in Fiction
Some Opening Sentences
“I don’t know where to start.” Felicity’s fingers found Michael’s hands across the table. “Me neither,” said Michael. “I’ve been thinking in fragments most of my life. You know, short sentences, questions that can’t be answered.”
By Rachel Robbins3 months ago in Fiction
The Flesh Factory: Inside the Elite’s Alleged Empire of Broken Minds and Stolen Souls
To understand the true depths of human cruelty, we must first look away from the sanitized history books and stare directly into the abyss of the unverified, yet horrifyingly consistent testimonies of the 20th century. Long before the age of the internet, before Artificial Intelligence could fabricate reality, and before conspiracy theories became a digital trend, there were whispers. These were not the whispers of bored teenagers, but the terrified, fragmented screams of individuals—mostly women and children—who claimed to be survivors of a project so vile, so scientifically precise in its evil, that the average mind struggles to comprehend its existence. This is the story of the alleged "Monarch" and "Trauma-Based Mind Control" programs, a narrative that suggests the world's most powerful Elites have been trading in a commodity far more valuable than gold or oil: the absolute, programmable slavery of the human soul.
By Wellova 3 months ago in Fiction
✨ The Boy Who Remembered a Life He Never Lived
At first, it felt like any ordinary dream — blurry, soft, melting away the moment I opened my eyes. But something was different. Something stayed with me. The color of the sky. The smell of roses. The faint sound of a girl laughing.
By Muhammad Kashif 3 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 hamid3 months ago in Fiction