Young Adult
From the Journal of Tristen Kevin McConnell. Top Story - November 2025.
Body trembling, yearning palpable, I gingerly reach out my hand. Nerves jangling, I stretch forth fingers. Slowly, gently … fearfully … I touch the door. Cool. Metallic. A safety door. Sealing out horrors.
By Andrew C McDonald2 months ago in Fiction
The Room of Forgotten Lullabies
Half-open windows let in a dull grey light that had replaced the sun hours ago. The whole house felt suspended in a slow breath, as if holding itself together just long enough for someone to dare breaking the silence. I stood outside the old nursery, fingers brushing the wooden frame that still had dents where a tiny hand once knocked from the inside. Those knocks never reached me in time.
By Salman Writes2 months ago in Fiction
When Tomorrow Arrived Too Soon
I woke to the sound of my phone buzzing, a shrill interruption I hadn’t expected. It was too early, and the sunlight hadn’t yet spilled across my room. The message was from my brother: Call me. Now. My heart thumped, a hollow echo that ran down my spine. He never texted like that.
By Jhon smith2 months ago in Fiction
The Room No One Enters
The taint of death lingered, even after every physical remnant had been cleaned away. Floors could be scrubbed and disinfected, carpets replaced, tiles and boards scoured, bodies removed... but the feeling remained. An odd miasma of horror, shock and bone-deep grief, tinged with the knowledge that no human had set foot in the room in years.
By Natasja Rose2 months ago in Fiction
The Watchmaker’s Silence
The shop smelled of dust and old oil. It was a comfortable smell. It was the scent of patience. Elias sat behind his heavy wooden counter. He wore a thick leather apron that had seen better days. The walls around him were filled with clocks. There were tall clocks that stood on the floor like soldiers. There were small clocks that sat on shelves. There were round clocks and square clocks.
By Muhammad Adil2 months ago in Fiction
How the Conflict Nearly Escalated into Full War
How the Conflict Nearly Escalated into Full War For years, the region had lived under a cautious balance—an invisible thread of pressure between Pakistan, India, and Afghanistan. Diplomats called it “controlled tension,” generals called it “the edge,” and civilians prayed it would never snap. But last week, the impossible nearly happened. For seventeen hours, the region stood just one wrong move away from a full three-front war.
By Wings of Time 2 months ago in Fiction
The Last Boy Speaking
A middle school boy named George Warren is tired, angry lovesick and wanting to get out of eighth grade. He is beginning to grow tired of his sometimes rude, mad and ignoring twin brother Julius. His older sister is his favorite sibling but he hadn’t seen or spoken to her in over a year.
By Forest Green2 months ago in Fiction
#7 Ski,The Jamie Foxx Look-A-Like & The Squirrel...
19-year-old Squire "Ski" Reynolds sat up straight in his hospital bed and craned his neck to the right to look at a western gray squirrel scurrying up the large maple tree outside of his hospital window. He noticed that the animal seemed to show up when he was at his loneliest times. Ski often left blueberries, pecans, and sunflower seeds from his daily salad on his window ledge for his new friend that he nicknamed Agile Ninja Turtle.
By Tiffany Gordon2 months ago in Fiction
[Reddit Post] Housekeeping found a room that shouldn’t exist.
Posted by u/GraveyardFrontDesk – r/NoSleep I’ve worked the front desk at our hotel for six years. It’s an older place — six floors, seventy-something rooms, built in the late ’70s and “renovated” (poorly) a decade ago. If you’ve ever worked in a hotel, you know the routine weirdness: creaky vents, drunk guests, elevators that ding for no reason. You learn to shrug most things off.
By V-Ink Stories2 months ago in Fiction
[Reddit Post] The hotel pool never reflects properly at night.
Posted by u/NightShiftClerk — r/NoSleep I’ve been working nights at the Fairbridge Suites for almost four years now. It’s not a bad gig — quiet most of the time, good pay, free coffee. I used to think the creepiest part of the job was the occasional drunk guest or flickering hallway light.
By V-Ink Stories2 months ago in Fiction
