Psychological

"The Forgotten Love Letter"
In a dusty, forgotten corner of an old antique shop, nestled among a heap of tattered books and chipped teacups, there lay an unopened envelope. Its edges were frayed, and its paper had turned a pale shade of yellow. The envelope, marked with a fading red heart, seemed to whisper secrets of a love long gone.
By Shayan Asghar 2 years ago in Fiction
Popping with Possibilities
There was once a lovely village tucked away amidst rolling hills and fields of green where lived Sarah, who was but 6 years old. I wanted to be a writer . I had always been in love with books, adventures, and popcorn! She was an odd duck when it came to this but boy did she love those little explosions that happened in your mouth when you bit down and the corn just burst into these great big fluffs of pure marvel!
By Esther Anima2 years ago in Fiction
Never. Content Warning.
The Prompt Convey a deep conversation between two individuals without uttering a single word aloud. Never The radio was playing but it was on so low that they couldn't hear the song that was playing. Maybe it was worth listening to, maybe not. Then it finished and the DJ said a few words over the intro to the next song.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Fiction
Make no noise, Don't move, It can see you... Content Warning.
My parents have always told me to stay quiet and to not move at night, I always thought that this was because they had sleeping troubles but the truth shocked me. I reached my sixteenth birthday and I wanted to know so desperately what the reason was that I couldn't move or make noise in the night.The following night I set up kind of a fortress by my door and spent the whole night with my phone recording through the lock of the door. When I woke up I immediately checked the footage of my recordings, it seemed normal but after 30 minutes of watching, I was truly shocked by what I had seen. A tall dark figure appeared at 1:38AM, it had a pale grey face and appeared to have no emotion.The dark figure wandered around, entering every room that had an opened door looking more menacing after every room. We live in a large house so we leave a lot of doors open. It entered the bathroom, the two spare bedrooms and the activities room. After each room, the creature looked hungrier. My soul jumped out of my body as the creature walked slowly towards my door, staring at the lock, eyes lit up red looking directly at the camera. What I hadn't noticed about the creature was its incredibly long claws, which it used to push my phone from the lock onto the floor. But my phone landed on its front, allowing me to still see what happened at the lock. The creature held its claws in the lock and waved them about until the door unlocked. However after trying to get in but failing, the creature left at 2:00.The same thing happened the next night, at exactly 1:38AM, the creature appeared and identically repeated its actions the previous night, eyes lighting up red, increasing hunger. I decided that the following night I would invite a friend over and show them what is happening. My friend David arrived at 8pm, we played video games until the night. He stayed in the guest room, he did the same as me, he propped his phone up at the lock of the door and slept the night. I begun to hear footsteps despite telling him not to move and a chilling scream followed. I cried while trying not to make a noise.The moment I woke up in the morning, I checked my footage and what I found chilled me more than anything I had ever seen. The footsteps happened at 1:46AM, but it was from the second spare bedroom. This only meant that someone had broken into the house because David ran to me asking if I heard it. The moment that the footsteps happened, the creature disappeared, and immediately, a blood curdling scream followed. Should I phone the police or should I just live with this?
By Luther2 years ago in Fiction
Castle High
In the harshness of the cold abyss I saw above me a house that was what I had dreamt of in my youth. It was taller than a mountain, but smaller than an average village dwelling from those more somber years of ages past, strong as a mighty oxen named Babe, and as light as a feather. You could pack it in a bag and tote it alongside you anywhere you had traveled to and never had to worry about leaving home behind for it followed you everywhere as it does to me now.
By William L. Truax III2 years ago in Fiction
Call me Wind
It was then the at the last moments of my life that I have lived so long avoiding where I finally took a look around and seen what it was that I was once beholding. I took a long look around that was all around me, above, below, wipe out into the fields that the people were there planting and sowing, I watched the fires burn brightly in the night and seen all the stars in the sky erupt with all the light and shine. I sat there and watched the rise and fall of all the ones who came before and after, I watched the cities burn and turn to ashes, I watched the sky fall and grow back, seen the mountains give way and crack, fall to nothingness, and rise up once again tall and mightier than before, I seen the great halls of the days of yore where all those would meet, gather to and flock thereafter no more. I had seen the sights of those whom dwell in the hills and upon the valleys, I seen the old men cry out in anger and sob in their misery. I watched for eons with no thought or care to even set foot on their ground. I have been there above you and below you and all around. My name gives me purpose and cause and scene, I am called the Wind, my friend, welcome, what brings you to me?
By William L. Truax III2 years ago in Fiction
The Queen of Sheba and a Messenger Bird (Part 2/2)
Instead, Bilqis decided to test King Sulaiman's honesty by sending him a letter full of rich gifts and complex questions. King Suleiman ignored them when the delegation of majesty arrived with gifts. He sent them back saying that he would bring such a mighty force that they would not be able to resist and humiliate them by banishing them from the land.
By Thowhid Miah2 years ago in Fiction
Sandbox Eight . Top Story - September 2023.
Sandbox eight was sealed off for a good reason, but occasionally someone’s kid would ignore the caution tape and unwittingly wander off and play in it anyway. Seven other sandboxes had been built around sandbox eight in a failed attempt to keep the kids out, but sandbox eight was a siren to the kids, it’s song continued to bring them into the sand until one last child was left in the city, Joey.
By Alex H Mittelman 2 years ago in Fiction
The History of the British Isles
on the rugged and misty isles of Britain, a rich tapestry of history unfolded over thousands of years. This is the story of the British, a people whose heritage is a blend of invaders, settlers, and innovators.
By Esther Anima2 years ago in Fiction
The Queen of Sheba and a Messenger Bird (Part-01 of 02)
The Queen of Sheba's account is mostly found in the religious books and traditions, such as the Bible and the Quran. According to Islamic mythology, the Queen of Sheba, also known as Bilqis, is a mythical character from antiquity. She is reported to have ruled over the ancient kingdom of Sheba, which is thought to have been on the southern Arabian Peninsula, probably in what is now Yemen.
By Thowhid Miah2 years ago in Fiction
Dreams
I keep having this dream. It isn't a nightmare, but it's not a good dream either. This dream always begins with an empty bench. The scene is different each time, but the empty bench is not. It is an old wooden bench, the kind that would give splinters if sat on recklessly. I am always compelled to sit on this bench, no matter where this bench was. The only other consistent aspect of that dream is I am the only one sitting on it. Except this time, there was another.
By Desirae Anaya2 years ago in Fiction
Retrograde
In the heartland of America, beneath the sprawling skies of Kansas, Emma stood in the middle of her father's sunflower field, a palette of golden blossoms swaying in the breeze. Her fingertips danced across the canvas as she captured the beauty of the moment, her artistry breathing life into every stroke. She had always felt a deep connection to the land, its cycles, and the never-ending dance of time.
By Harsh Raj2 years ago in Fiction