thriller
The Ghost Train
Chapter 8: Sarah's Stop Sarah had barely made it back to the passenger car when she felt it—a peculiar sensation unlike anything she'd experienced before. The steady rhythm of the train began to slow, the clacking of wheels growing more deliberate, more measured. But it wasn't this change in tempo that made her grip the nearest handrail until her knuckles whitened.
By Shane D. Spear10 months ago in Fiction
Annabeth's Home. Honorable Mention in 500 Word Shockwave Challenge.
There was nothing in the world Annabeth loved more than her house. It had been in her family for four generations, built by her great-grandfather's own hands. Annabeth was born in that house, and she planned to die in it someday. Every room was meticulously decorated to her liking; each stick of furniture and knickknack placed in exactly the right spot. Everything was absolutely perfect... until one day, it wasn't.
By Natalie Gray10 months ago in Fiction
The Shadow That Followed Me Home. Content Warning.
It started on a Tuesday. I remember because Tuesdays are always the worst—too far from the weekend to be hopeful, too close to Monday to feel like progress. That night, I stayed late at the lab, working on reports no one would read and research no one would fund. The building emptied early, like it always did when the weather turned. The hallways had that sterile echo, that hum of something missing.
By Alpha Cortex10 months ago in Fiction
The Clock That Stole Time
The clock arrived in a box with no return address. Jonathan found it on his doorstep one rainy morning, wrapped in wax paper, sealed with a brittle red ribbon. No note. No explanation. Just an antique brass mantel clock with black Roman numerals and fine golden hands that trembled faintly, even when untouched.
By Alpha Cortex10 months ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Door
The forest had always been quiet, but that day, it was still. Not a single bird called. No branches creaked. The usual rustle of squirrels and wind was replaced with something else—a silence that felt alive. Heavy. Watching. It was the kind of stillness that spoke not of peace, but of anticipation. The trees seemed to lean inward, listening.
By Alpha Cortex10 months ago in Fiction
Tender. Content Warning.
Note to editors: The site wouldn't let me publish this story to the "fiction" community unless it was six hundred words. The story portion of this was five hundred words exactly when I typed it into vocal. For some reason it was four hundred and seventy three words when I pasted it into "Microsoft word". I decided to go with five hundred according to vocals count. I am very sorry for this side note but I couldn't get it to even go through to be reviewed without making it at least six hundred words and I hope this doesn't disqualify this story.
By Raine Fielder10 months ago in Fiction
