Mystery
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 2 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 8 hours ago in Fiction
The Story Beneath The Story
People call me Bigfoot and other names and say that I smell horribly. They are afraid of me because I’m not human and have fur. I live where few people do, and the scent I give off is from my rich diet. We live in the wilderness, hiding from humans, and smell like the earth and trees. We rub the raw elk onto our fur and sometimes have nests with carcasses and excrement. Humans don’t find traces of our bodies because, when near death, our fur sheds and eagles take it away. We only die in the spring when wolf and bear cubs are emerging, and our bodies feed their young, while their parents consume our bones. There aren’t many of us left. We think humans stink, and we know when they are near. Human females smell better than males, but sometimes their acrid odor makes me sneeze; it seems to happen once every moon.
By Andrea Corwin about 10 hours ago in Fiction
The Clock That Stopped at Midnight. AI-Generated.
In the quiet town of Ravensbrook stood an old house that everyone avoided. It wasn’t broken or abandoned. In fact, the house looked perfectly normal—white walls, tall windows, and a small garden that somehow stayed alive even though no one ever cared for it.
By Waleed khana day ago in Fiction
Moby Dee
We all think we know the story of Moby Dick, a tale of human courage, obsession, and revenge against a monstrous white whale, a creature of evil nature. We also remember that in the end nature cannot be tamed or defeated: Moby Dick kills his obsessed hunter and leaves. This has become such a recognizable myth that the name itself -- Moby Dick -- evokes powerful feelings of fear and anxiety about the untamed monster whale in the vast ocean.
By Lana V Lynxa day ago in Fiction
Someone Keeps Swiping Right on My Dating Profile
I downloaded the dating app two weeks after Valentine’s Day. Not because I was ready to date again. Mostly because my friends wouldn’t stop telling me to “get back out there.” My last relationship ended badly, and February had been miserable enough already.
By V-Ink Storiesa day ago in Fiction
The Last Round Before Sunrise
The group had been bar-hopping since early evening. St. Patrick’s Day had turned the whole downtown area into a blur of green shirts, plastic shamrocks, and loud music pouring from every open doorway. By midnight, most of the popular bars were packed shoulder-to-shoulder.
By V-Ink Storiesa day ago in Fiction
Quiet Armageddon
“The price of oil has now reached over one hundred dollars a barrel. The highest it has been since twenty twenty-two.” Sylvia half-listened to the voice on the radio as she turned into the Tesco car park. She was more concerned with remembering what she actually needed: cat litter, milk, and probably bread.
By J.B. Millera day ago in Fiction
The Android Detective: Help Wanted
Vesper Lyra leaned her lanky frame into the door to push through the entrance lacking working electronics. A simple, painted sign in a boring and nondescript font announced that one would find a Clyde Sharpman, P.D. inside. Among the bright lights, vibrantly coloured signs, and announcements everywhere else on Wetwater Street, how she even noticed the place was a mystery. Not to mention the roughly cut-out cardboard sign in the unit’s dirty window advertising that the private detective, Clyde Sharpman, wanted help.
By Jean-François Lamothea day ago in Fiction
Lycan Lore. Top Story - March 2026.
As the students of my 10am mythology class take their seats, I decide to steer the day's curriculum away from Greek and dive into a Western European discourse on the misaligned beliefs of the Werewolf. A tale of truth or fiction. No one really knows.
By Lamar Wigginsa day ago in Fiction
