Fan Fiction
The Silver Creation
“My brother warned me to not accept gifts from the one who commissioned you,” Epimetheus said, his voice echoing against the stone pillars of the temple. Before him stood a woman clad in silvery raiments, her skin catching the flickering light of the torches. A silver tiara rested upon her brow, and rings glinted from her fingers and toes.
By imtiazalamabout 3 hours ago in Fiction
The Weight of Wax
Everyone knows the story of Icarus. They tell it to children like a warning wrapped in sunlight: a boy given wings who flew too close to the sun, ignoring his father's wisdom. Pride carried him upward. Heat melted the wax. The sea took him.
By Lydia martinezabout 5 hours ago in Fiction
Echoes of the Silent Key
To the stranger who borrowed my silence and called it your own: I used to wonder what kind of person does that. Not steal money. Not steal fame. But steal something quieter — something invisible. An idea, a symbol, a piece of meaning that someone else built in the privacy of their own mind.
By Yasir Rehmanabout 9 hours ago in Fiction
Seeking The Facts Behind a Myth
Each individual alone judges what they have faith in from what life has taught them. Faith arrives when there is an interplay between mind and body, that forms a strong framework laid on strong foundations. Faith that information, from something larger that can transcend to the depth of the heart and enhance a spirit with confidence in a soul that sees past blindly believing in the causes of wars fought in the name of religious idealism or a way of life that imposes restrictions based on race, caste or the gender one is born into, often stems from the dignity of science, church and community. Through the nature of alchemy, astrology and theory, the brain sorts through what is repressed, unknown or ignored then disassociates preconceived ideas to bring honor and respect to the dead.
By Katherine D. Grahamabout 15 hours ago in Fiction
The Morning My Reflection Disappeared
I thought it was just another Saturday. Alarm at 7:00 a.m., the tail end of some weird dream I’d already forgotten, and that familiar battle between “I could sleep more” and “I’ll hate Monday if I do.” I stuck to the plan, got up, stretched, and let the sunlight hit my face like it always does on weekends.
By abualyaanartabout 20 hours ago in Fiction
The Choices of Silence
Elena had always believed that life demanded action, yet she found herself frozen most of the time. Standing at the edge of the crowded café, she watched strangers talk, laugh, and argue. Their voices blended into a constant hum, a symphony of choices she had never dared to make.
By Reflective Storiesabout 21 hours ago in Fiction
Shadows of the City
The city never truly slept. Even in the dead of night, the streets pulsed with life, muted and distant, like a dream vibrating just beyond reach. I walked through them, the soles of my shoes clicking against cracked pavement, my shadow stretching long and thin under the flickering streetlights.
By Reflective Storiesabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker of Alderwyn
In the quiet northern European town of Alderwyn, time seemed to move differently. The town rested between a dense forest and a cold silver lake, its narrow cobbled streets twisting between stone houses that had stood for centuries. At the very center of Alderwyn stood a tall clock tower, older than any building in town. No one knew exactly who built it, but every citizen depended on its steady ticking.
By Iazaz hussaina day ago in Fiction
The Midnight Alley: The Boy Who Called His Killer “Dad”
Lightning cracked overhead as Detective Lena Carter’s boots splashed through the rain-slicked alley. The call had come just moments ago—a child was hurt, and the storm didn’t care. Narrow walls of brick reflected the flickering light from a struggling streetlamp, puddles trembling under each flash. On the wet ground lay a boy, twelve years old, eyes wide in final surprise, blood glimmering in crimson streams across the cracks beneath him. Clutched in his small, trembling fingers was a soaked scrap of paper. Carter leaned close, throat tight: the letters D_A_ smeared by rain.
By imtiazalam2 days ago in Fiction
Is Saad Punjwani About to Get Married? A Mysterious Instagram Post Sparks Curiosity
A single Instagram post is sometimes enough to start a wave of curiosity online — and that is exactly what happened when Pakistani technology entrepreneur Saad Punjwani suddenly appeared on Instagram after years of silence.
By Jon B. Carroll4 days ago in Fiction
The Woman Who Outstayed the Rain
The sky over the city was not just grey; it was a heavy, suffocating blanket of bruised charcoal. The rain had been falling for a month—a relentless, rhythmic drumming that seemed to wash away the colors of the world. At the corner of the most forgotten street stood Peggy. She was a doddery, fragile figure, looking like a piece of parchment paper that had been left in the sun for too long, now being soaked until it was translucent.
By Noman Afridi4 days ago in Fiction
