thriller
The Clock Beyond Time
The night was quiet when Ethan Cole stood before the old grandfather clock. Its brass pendulum swung with a rhythm too perfect, too alive. He had inherited it from his great-grandfather, a man who had vanished mysteriously in 1893. For years, Ethan thought it was just a family legend. But tonight, something in the air felt different. The clock’s hands spun backward faster and faster until they stopped exactly at twelve midnight. A faint hum filled the room, the floor trembled, and without warning, the world folded like paper.
By Emma Fischer3 months ago in Fiction
What is a funeral, really?
One night at the funeral home on my way leaving work I thought I heard a noise coming from the embalming room. I was the only one there. I stood there at the front door wondering should I check it out. Then I thought it was nothing, but I heard creaking coming from that direction. I went down the hall I could feel goosebumps and began to shiver. It was me coming out the door for I never knew when to finish work and I died working and now forever checking and rechecking making sure that things are done. Help!
By Mark Graham3 months ago in Fiction
Same Breath. Winner in Parallel Lives Challenge.
I saw the semi drift across the rain and slide toward my lane. I jerked the wheel right. Tires screamed. The world tilted, and the headlights spun over wet blacktop while the car fishtailed. Gravity pulled me sideways, and my stomach fell. I waited for the hit that would end everything.
By Joey Raines3 months ago in Fiction
Journey to Hope. AI-Generated.
The days on Hope passed in a blur of strange beauty and quiet unease. The crew had begun to map the surrounding terrain: smooth hills of silver grass, still lakes that reflected twin suns, and soil that pulsed faintly beneath their boots. Every reading they took made less sense than the last.
By Emma Fischer3 months ago in Fiction
The Ink of Fate. AI-Generated.
The sun hung low over the crooked trail that wound up the side of Mount Aster, its orange glow spilling over the sharp rocks and whispering pines. On a small ledge halfway up stood a wooden stall, barely held together by rusted nails and hope.
By Ghanni malik3 months ago in Fiction
Journey to Hope. AI-Generated.
The year was 3857, Earth had fallen silent. Once blue and alive, it now hung in space like a rusted coin dry oceans, burned skies, cities swallowed by dust. Humanity had taken everything it could from its cradle and left behind a lifeless shell. For centuries, people drifted through the dark in giant space stations, praying for another home. And then they found one. Four hundred seventeen years away, hidden behind a dying red star, astronomers detected a planet. Its atmosphere shimmered with oxygen, its surface glowed faintly with oceans and clouds. The data was impossible to ignore. Humanity called it Hope.
By Emma Fischer3 months ago in Fiction
