Short Story
Echoes Beneath the Waves:. AI-Generated.
The night was calm, the sea stretching endlessly under a sky scattered with stars. Passengers aboard the RMS Titanic believed they were sailing on a miracle of modern engineering, a ship so vast and luxurious that it was called “unsinkable.” Yet beneath the glittering chandeliers and polished brass, fate was already writing its cruel script.
By The Writer...A_Awanabout a month ago in Fiction
Borrowed Face:. AI-Generated.
I first observed her on the train. She sat across from me, head tilted slightly, eyes fixed on the window as if the city rushing past was more important than the people inside. At first glance, she seemed ordinary—dark hair, pale skin, a tired expression. But then she turned, and my breath caught.
By The Writer...A_Awanabout a month ago in Fiction
Some Assembly Required
“Well, that was dramatic,” he thought. Here he was, in the middle of a winter wonderland with very little understanding of the language of this country in a car that just failed him as the day turned to night. Michael had been in the country for just under a week and had met all of his contacts except one, and he had been on his way to speak to the last one that very afternoon. He had noted how quickly the darkness settled after 4 pm, but he thought that he would have made it. Michael also thought that the car borrowed from the rental agency would also last. There had been no sign of damage or loss of power. To put it simply, he had run out of gas and was now wondering what to do next.
By Kendall Defoe about a month ago in Fiction
Don't Fear The Reaper
She threw out the last of the flowers today. Silently, I followed her out to the side of the house and watched her dump them in the trash; it felt a little like she was dumping me in the trash. Her tears were emotionless now, like a repetitive habit just streaming down her face. She walked back inside and started washing the vase. Just going through the motions. I stood in my normal spot in the kitchen: the corner between the oven and the fridge. I just watched her, knowing, by now, she wouldn’t listen or hear anything I had to say. I sighed deeply, wishing I could just explain.
By Leah Suzanne Deweyabout a month ago in Fiction
whispers of the turning seasons (part 29). AI-Generated.
The moment Dr. Rowan Hale stepped back into the abandoned hall, the doors slammed shut behind him as if pulled by an unseen force. The sound echoed through the storm like a warning bell—deep, final, resonating through Evelyn’s bones.
By Ahmed aldeabellaabout a month ago in Fiction
Guy’s Night. Content Warning.
disclaimer: if your affinity for comedy red lines at religion (or theology in general), you will be offended. this story is a work of fiction. names, characters, events, and celestial interventions are entirely imagined. any resemblance to religious texts, figures, or doctrines is purely coincidental… or, let’s be honest, probably intentional.
By Ashlee Laurelabout a month ago in Fiction
The Murder No One Saw
Mere-Evelyn Tavakaturaga-Sinclair realised she’d just watched a man die halfway through her second piña colada. One moment, she was floating in the infinity pool, the warm Bali evening wrapped around her like a damp shawl. The next, she was staring, transfixed, at the villa across the ravine.
By DARK TALE CO. about a month ago in Fiction
The Taj Mahal
The Taj Mahal I did not expect it to feel so quiet. Not silent, just calm in a way that made my chest slow down without asking. The Taj Mahal stood there as if it had been waiting, not for crowds or cameras, but for someone willing to look beyond the shine. White marble catching the light, not showing off, simply being present. I realised then this place was not built to impress the world. It was built to hold a feeling that refused to disappear.
By Marie381Uk about a month ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Turning Seasons (part 31) the end. AI-Generated.
The chamber roared like a living creature as the vortex of ancient light spun around Evelyn, its spiraling glow painting the cavern walls with shifting constellations. The air grew warmer—then colder—then impossibly still. Liam tried again to stand, but the force of the energy held him pinned against the stone wall, helpless.
By Ahmed aldeabellaabout a month ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Turning Seasons (part 30). AI-Generated.
The chamber beneath the river pulsed with a slow, rhythmic glow—almost like a heartbeat. Evelyn felt it beneath her boots, through the icy stone floor, through the air itself. The symbols carved on the walls shifted, never staying still long enough for her to fully grasp their meaning. They moved like constellations rearranging themselves.
By Ahmed aldeabellaabout a month ago in Fiction
