thriller

Celestia and the Feather of Dawn
Under the pale crescent moon, Celestia tiptoed along a silver riverbank, her heart aglow with wonder. Shimmering lilies unfurled into the night, and unseen chimes echoed from the woods beyond. Something called to her—a soft, lilting melody on the midnight breeze. It felt as if the forest itself were singing. Enchanted by its magic, Celestia followed the song wherever it led.
By Muhammad Sohail8 months ago in Fiction
Player 456
Seong Jun-ho wasn’t his real name. Not anymore. He had burned his old identity like the rest of the ghosts who survived the game. It had been four years since the blood-soaked nightmare of Squid Game ended, and Jun-ho had done everything in his power to vanish.
By Nomi8 months ago in Fiction
The Drawing of My Life
When I was a child, I believed that pencils held magic. Not the kind of magic that turned frogs into princes or moved mountains—but the quiet kind. The kind that turned thoughts into pictures, emotions into shapes, and silence into color. I didn’t speak much as a kid. While other children chased each other on the playground or shouted answers in class, I sat in the corner of my own world, sketching stick figures and stars on the backs of my notebooks.
By Esther Sun8 months ago in Fiction
The Girl at Table Nine
Every Sunday, like clockwork, she sat at table nine. Same black coat. Same tight bun. Same haunted eyes. She’d order a black coffee, two eggs over easy, and sourdough toast—nothing more, nothing less. She always came alone and never spoke unless spoken to.
By Ali8 months ago in Fiction
The Chosen; Chapter 5
We all sit in silence in the War Room. High Priestess Leoni and the rest of the temple staff were seeing to the townsfolk. She had promised to be back as quickly as possible. It was fairly obvious she hadn't wanted to be drawn away, but she had to. None of us had said anything since she had left us down here. Not that there was much to say.
By Katarzyna Crevan8 months ago in Fiction
The Social Media Illusion". AI-Generated.
Maya stared at her phone, thumb scrolling through perfectly curated photos, clever captions, and smiling faces. Her own post—a filtered selfie from last weekend’s party—had just passed 500 likes. On the surface, everything was perfect. Her followers loved her, her feed was vibrant, and her life seemed like a dream. But in the quiet of her bedroom, away from the digital applause, she felt hollow.
By "TaleAlchemy"8 months ago in Fiction
The Bookstore Where Our Eyes First Spoke
The old bookstore on Elm Street was supposed to be torn down by spring. It smelled like dusty paper and warm cinnamon, with creaky wooden floors that whispered with every step. Leah had wandered in on a rainy Tuesday, hoping to kill time. She wasn’t expecting to find the last piece of her heart between the pages of a book—or in someone else’s eyes.
By The Waiting Tree8 months ago in Fiction
Echoes Beneath the City
Beneath the clamor of Meridian’s streets, hidden from the eyes of the city above, sprawled a tangled labyrinth of tunnels and forgotten passages. They were veins running deep beneath the urban heart, dark and silent except for the faint drip of water and the occasional scurry of unseen creatures. Few dared to venture here, where shadows pooled like ink, and the air tasted of dust and lost time.
By Get Rich8 months ago in Fiction
The Memory Market
The moment Lia stepped into the Memory Market, the scent of lavender and static filled her lungs. Rows of glowing capsules floated in midair, each pulsing with a faint heartbeat of light. A whisper surrounded her—the echo of a hundred lives for sale.
By FAIZAN AFRIDI8 months ago in Fiction
Raymond
Edgar lived by a strict code of live and let live, firmly believing that life would be better for everyone if they minded their own business and not others. He was never nosy and stayed to himself. Because of this, he was the friend of many and being so popular was always invited to all the major shindigs.
By Mother Combs8 months ago in Fiction
The Meeting
The city was slick with rain — the kind that clings to your coat and blurs the edges of the night. Neon signs bled their colours into puddles, flickering like restless ghosts on wet asphalt. The smell of damp concrete mixed with exhaust fumes, hanging heavy in the air like a warning. I kept my eyes on the road, but my mind tuned into the quiet tension resting heavy in the backseat.
By Bentley Brown8 months ago in Fiction
"The Long Way Around"
We sketch out our dreams in bold ink — a clear vision of what we want, where we’re headed, and how long it should take to get there. We imagine we’ll follow a clean path from point A to point B. Graduate by this age. Land a job by that one. Find love. Settle down. Climb the ladder. Check off each goal like a to-do list.
By Kaleem Ullah8 months ago in Fiction