thriller

[Theater Reddit] The Locked Auditorium
Posted by u/UsherInTheDark – 2 months ago So I work night shift at a small-town movie theater. We close around 1 a.m. after the last show, and it’s my job to do the final sweep: check all theaters, shut down the projectors, make sure no one’s left behind. I’ve been doing this for three years now — mostly alone, because no one else wants to stay that late.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
The Nutcracker's Curse
Emma Ross had always loved antique shopping, drawn to the allure of forgotten stories hidden within old trinkets. So when she stumbled upon the estate sale of the late Dr. Caldwell, a reclusive collector, she couldn’t resist. Among the dusty furniture and faded heirlooms, a peculiar nutcracker caught her eye.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
The Kids’ Matinee That Never Happened
Projectionist here… something was sitting in Theater 6 this morning, and it wasn’t any of our customers. Hey everyone. Long-time lurker, first-time poster. I’ve worked at my local movie theater for about six years—mostly as a projectionist, which means I’m usually the first person in the building, alone, dealing with old equipment that likes to break at the most inconvenient possible moments.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
The Final Showing
My manager found an unlabeled film reel in the basement… and the movie showed our theater burning down. Hey everyone. This isn’t my story exactly — it’s my manager’s — but I was there for the aftermath, and it messed me up enough that I need to write it out.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
[Theater Reddit] The Back Row of Theater 6 Is Never Empty
Posted by u/UsherInTheDark – 2 months ago So I work night shift at a small-town movie theater. We close around 1 a.m. after the last show, and it’s my job to do the final sweep: check all theaters, shut down the projectors, make sure no one’s left behind. I’ve been doing this for three years now — mostly alone, because no one else wants to stay that late.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
The Film That Never Ends
Posted by u/ProjectionGuy94 – 4 months ago I’ve been a projectionist for a decade. Old-school — real film, not digital. I’ve worked in the same small-town theater since I was 23. There’s something peaceful about it: the hum of the machines, the rhythmic clatter of reels spinning, the flicker of light through celluloid. It’s like the heartbeat of the building.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
Carols of the Damned
The Saint Cecilia Choir had seen better days. Once the pride of the town, their performances now drew only a handful of listeners. The director, Margaret Hensley, a once-renowned soprano, refused to let the choir fade into obscurity. “We just need something special,” she insisted. “Something that will remind people why they loved us.”
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
Saint Nicholas' Last Ride
The snow fell in ashen flakes, the sky above a perpetual gray that mirrored the despair of the world below. In the year 2147, Christmas was a relic, outlawed decades earlier by the Council of Unity. Declared a source of division and greed, the holiday and its traditions were erased from history books. But whispers of rebellion persisted—quiet murmurs of a time when people gathered, when joy and giving weren’t crimes.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
Gift of Wrath
The holiday party was in full swing, with laughter and the hum of festive music filling the air. Emily, the office manager, had outdone herself this year. A crackling fire, garlands draped across every surface, and a massive Christmas tree glittering with golden ornaments dominated the room. In the corner, the Secret Santa table overflowed with wrapped gifts.
By V-Ink Storiesabout a month ago in Fiction
Every Night, the Same Man Stands at My Window. AI-Generated.
I used to think the human mind could explain anything—shadows, sounds, the strange ways the night shifts when everyone is asleep. But that was before the man at my window began to return. Before his presence became a routine. Before fear and curiosity tangled so tightly inside me that I couldn’t separate them anymore.
By Muhammad Reyazabout a month ago in Fiction
A Spark to Be Seen
Eli used to count footsteps. It was the only way to know who was home. His father walked heavy and fast, always moving with purpose. His mother walked lightly, but with a clipped pace that meant she had somewhere else to be. His older sister, Leigh, walked with her earbuds in, so the beat of her music thumped the floorboards before she did.
By Logan M. Snyderabout a month ago in Fiction
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 Khanabout a month ago in Fiction