Short Story

The Last Door in the Dark Hallway
There was a hallway in the old ancestral house where I grew up, a narrow corridor that always felt colder than the rest of the building. Even as a child, I sensed something uneasy about it, though no one ever warned me away from it. I would pass by with a book or a cup of tea, distracted by life, yet my eyes always wandered to the very end of that dimly lit passage. There, half lost in shadow, stood a door that looked as though it belonged to another century. Dust coated it so thickly that it seemed carved from the wall itself.
By Anas Khan2 months ago in Fiction
The Truth Beyond Touch
The village of Noorabad lay nestled between rolling green fields and distant blue hills. It was a small place where the days moved slowly and the nights hummed with stories told under lantern light. Among the villagers lived five blind men, each known for a special quality. Though they could not see the world, the world saw them.
By hamad khan2 months ago in Fiction
Where the Smoke Falls
The morning was quieter than usual. Looking towards the window, a muddy, grey sky with a faint yellowish hue was framed into the sight—one could barely feel the warmth.
By Une Femme2 months ago in Fiction
The Prince Who Never Logged Out
In the northern region of Eldoria, a vast land within the immersive VRMMO Chrona Realms, there stood a citadel crafted entirely from white stone laced with silver. Snow drifted around it endlessly, soft as powdered silk. Players called it Frostveil Citadel. NPCs called it the Citadel of Dusk Snow.
By Zidane2 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 36
Chapter 36 Sara stepped out of the Dungeon Control Crystal chamber, the faint hum of its power still lingering in her ears. The cool air of the mine entrance greeted her, carrying the earthy scent of stone and crystal dust. Just outside, she spotted Thurge and his family, clustered around the glowing runes of the Mine Safety devices.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
Time is Running Out in The Capsule
The room blurred as Mary sat on the couch and surveyed the life she had created. Faded oil paintings, tarnished brass light fixtures, a table and chairs set intended for a family, picture frames filled with nieces and nephews and all the rescue dogs that had called this place home.
By Ginny Newland2 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 35
Chapter 35 Sara stood before the Dungeon Control Crystal, its surface alive with shifting light that pulsed in rhythm with her thoughts. She reached out, fingertips brushing the cool surface, and the System’s interface unfolded in her mind. Relief washed over her as she realized the Dungeon was not the same brutal gauntlet she had faced when claiming it. The Boss remained a Crystal Devourer, but only a Tier 2 variant, not the Tier 3 Raid monstrosity she had fought. And at the end of the run, the Challenger party would not find the Dungeon Crystal itself, but a reward chest stocked with loot.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
Remember Me. Content Warning.
“E se io muoio da partigiano...” Translated: “And if I die as a partisan...” - Bella Ciao, Italian anti-fascist song -0-
By Alexander McEvoy2 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 34
Chapter 34 “Excellent!”, Sara said, ignoring the humored chuffing of a Life Lion in the stalks than only her heightened Mind would have heard. “Then how about introductions, my new friends. I am Sara Bloom, Viscount of Haven Valley and the Crystal Cavern Dungeon. Welcome to Haven Valley.”
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 33
Chapter 33 The chime of the System notification woke Sara before dawn, sharp and insistent in her mind. [Alert: Unauthorized Challengers detected at Haven Valley perimeter.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
Symbiotic: Chapter 32
Chapter 32 Mind awhirl with this new information. That the battles she had fought thus far were only to qualify for the actual contest still to come. She stood and headed back into the main hallway, the statues of Haven Valley’s guardians watched silently as Tas shimmered into view beside her.
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)2 months ago in Fiction
The Season of the Honkers
Kael was born for the high, silent corridors of the sky. A Sandhill Crane, his life was a map of ethereal places: the tundra of Sibéria, the marshes of Nebraska, the skies in between. His world was one of graceful, deliberate movement and low, rattling calls that echoed over wetlands. He flew in a neat, arrow-shaped formation with his own kind, a symphony of coordinated wings.
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction