Psychological

Behind Closed Doors. Top Story - October 2025.
“It’s shut up all tight for a reason,” his father told him. “But…what’s the reason?” Danny Sanderson asked. “I can’t tell you that.”
By Gerard DiLeo4 months ago in Fiction
The Grave That Was Never Found — Genghis Khan: The Conqueror Who Shook the World and His Hidden Resting Place
No man in history has inspired such a strange mixture of fear, fascination, and mystery as Genghis Khan — the ruler who emerged from the wild steppes of Mongolia and reshaped the entire face of the ancient world. His empire stretched from the edges of China to the heart of Europe, his armies sweeping through kingdoms like a storm of fire and steel. He was ruthless, unstoppable, and by some accounts, responsible for the deaths of more than forty million people — nearly one-tenth of the world’s population at that time.
By Wellova 4 months ago in Fiction
The Coffee Cup. AI-Generated.
Every morning at exactly 7:10, Elias Mwangi opened the doors to his tiny café on River Street in Nairobi. The brass bell above the door jingled softly, echoing through the narrow shop that smelled of roasted beans, cinnamon, and rain-soaked wood.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
The Last Train to Miray. AI-Generated.
The train station of Miray hadn’t seen a real crowd in years. The walls were cracked, the benches splintered, and the ticket window covered in dust. Once, this place had been the heart of a small but thriving mining town. Now, it was only the heart of one old man who refused to let it die.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
THE SIGNAL FROM IO
🛰️ The Signal from Io When the silence of the universe whispers your name, there’s nowhere left to run. Io — a world of storms and sulfur, where thunder tore the sky and mountains of ice cracked under Jupiter’s eternal glow.
By Alex Mario4 months ago in Fiction
The Angel’s Masquerade. AI-Generated.
The ballroom shimmered with golden lights, chandeliers swaying gently as violins played a haunting tune. Everyone wore masks — some glittered with diamonds, others shimmered with feathers and gold. It was the city’s grandest night — The Masquerade of Grace, where the wealthy and powerful danced their way through lies, secrets, and charm.
By Sajjad Ali4 months ago in Fiction
An Evening to Die For. Content Warning.
“Dad! Where are you?” Lori had been shouting for nearly an hour already and was panicking. The cold was biting — she was nearly frozen, with frost particles forming on her nose.
By Jordan Hardin4 months ago in Fiction
Honest Ape. Content Warning.
Cut in closer to the home. Look inside, and you will see a thin, gray man slumped over a table, his eyes open and foggy. He is unmoving. The hair on the back of his head is matted with blood.
By Roman Hale4 months ago in Fiction
His Freckle Too, Stayed Until Morning
I did not notice it before. That small freckle just beneath his left eye, the one the light always seems to find before I do. How many times have I seen his face and never really seen it? The mark itself is nothing special, really, a speck, a shadow of pigment the sun decided to keep for itself, yet tonight it feels like a secret I have finally been allowed to see.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast4 months ago in Fiction
To The Dead We Owe the Truth. Content Warning.
“We should be considerate to the living; to the dead we owe only the truth. " - Voltaire. I loved my Gran. I loved visiting her and wouldn't stop. But since her dementia had taken its vice-like grip. Since that evil disease had squeezed out everything that made her spectacular, it was harder.
By Paul Stewart4 months ago in Fiction
The Lighthouse Keeper’s Letter. AI-Generated.
The wind howled along the cliffs of Cape Town, tearing at the edges of the lighthouse like it wanted to knock it into the ocean. Inside, an old man sat hunched over a wooden desk, pen in hand, paper worn and yellowed.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
The Moving Experience
Gold speckles lined the blue carpet. The house in Wilmington, Delaware showed a bed, a basin, and a chair and desk set with a place for a candle in the room. The bed featured a wooden frame and a single mattress with colorful blankets of blue and gold draped on it; the basin had a crack in the outer rim but looked like ivory; the desk showed scratches and lines that covered its surface. A single flame burned and cast a glow over the whole place. In over a hundred and sixty years, the room had not been touched. The door creaked. The musty smell of old paper struck at the nose of Taylor David. He wore jeans and a uniform that spelled out his reason for being there. “We Move Rooms” emblazoned on his gray shirt in crimson. That remained his task. He received a paycheck to collect the items of rooms and relocate them to storage facilities, homes, and incinerators. Now, he ensured the items wound up in a museum.
By Skyler Saunders4 months ago in Fiction