Psychological

The Painter of Forgotten Faces. AI-Generated.
The town of Windmere was known for two things — its endless fog and its quiet secrets. On the edge of its cobblestone streets stood a small art studio, its windows always glowing softly at night. Inside lived a painter named Jonas Vale, a man both admired and feared for his peculiar gift.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Secret. AI-Generated.
In the heart of a small European town stood a little clock shop called Teller’s Timepieces. It was easy to miss — wedged between a bakery and a tailor’s store, with a dusty sign that hadn’t been repainted in decades. But those who knew the place spoke of its owner, Elias Teller, as a man who could fix any clock in the world — even those long thought broken forever.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
The Last Passenger. AI-Generated.
The 11:40 p.m. train from Crescent City to Marrow Junction was almost empty that night. Only four passengers sat scattered in the dimly lit compartment — a young woman reading a paperback, a middle-aged man staring out the window, a student with headphones, and an old lady clutching a suitcase.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
A Shot in the Heart. Top Story - October 2025.
Chantilly took her slice of cake, along with a glass of milk, into the living room to eat while she watched the latest episode of her favorite daytime talk show. Settling onto the chintz-covered couch, she turned the TV on with the remote, switching the channels until she found the one she was searching for. Today was her first day of vacation, and even though Franklin had to work all week, she had every intention of enjoying it to the hilt.
By Mother Combs4 months ago in Fiction
For Better Or For Worse. Top Story - October 2025.
Eli pressed his eye to the keyhole. The hallway beyond was dim, lit by a single dying bulb that pulsed like it was taking its last breath. Eli had avoided this door for most of the time he’d lived here.
By Tennessee Garbage4 months ago in Fiction
The Holy American Empire
The chamber of the United Nations stood silent. Delegates from every corner of the globe filled the room, their expressions taut with unease. The air itself seemed to bend under the weight of anticipation. At the center, under the seal of the world, the man who had shattered it rose from his chair.
By Logan M. Snyder4 months ago in Fiction
Siamese. Runner-Up in Parallel Lives Challenge. Top Story - October 2025.
Investigation into the death of Dr. Mia Navarro 1st Interview: Agent John Macnamara Three officials sit behind a glass wall, faces dimly lit, silhouettes more than people.
By Kristen Keenon Fisher4 months ago in Fiction
Null Hypothesis . Winner in A Knock at the Door Challenge. Content Warning.
Boom! He stops— stops peeling his skin and lets his head swivel in the lonesome dark, towards the noise. It came from the varied wall, directly below the pale green dot. But the dot is still as always, it has always been there and it has never moved-- the dot is constant and eternal.
By Sam Spinelli4 months ago in Fiction
The Visitor at Dusk
Mark never expected to be living alone in his fifties, but that’s how things had ended up. After a messy divorce, he’d dated a few times, but it never felt right.
By Alan J. Edmonds4 months ago in Fiction
It's Now 3:34
He will remember forever, it was exactly 3:34 When, out of nowhere, came a knock at the door One that rumbled the house and rattled him to his core
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden4 months ago in Fiction
Ouija Knocks Back
The first night the board came out, the house was a jar with its lid twisted loose. We’d eaten cereal on the couch because Mom couldn’t bring herself to dirty a pan, then washed the bowls while our feet slid on the linoleum where the dishwasher had once dripped. Dad would have fixed the leak without YouTube, without a manual, just a wrench and that chuckle that warmed the kitchen more than steam. The month after the funeral, the maintenance man replaced the gasket and offered condolences like a coupon. The leak stopped, but the kitchen was still cold.
By Cadma4 months ago in Fiction
Heart's door.
Hearts are planted in soils of uncertainty....roses grow from arteries and veins sprout pencil sharp aches and pains in a profound amalgamation of jumbled, tumbling emotions.
By Antoni De'Leon4 months ago in Fiction