Iazaz hussain
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Stories (60)
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I Hit Rock Bottom Before I Learned the Truth About Success
No matter how hard I tried, I always ended up in the same place—tired, broke, and disappointed. Every morning I woke up with hope, and every night I went to sleep feeling like a failure. I watched people around me move forward while I stayed stuck, and slowly, I began to believe something was wrong with me.
By Iazaz hussain9 days ago in Motivation
I Hit Rock Bottom Before I Learned the Truth About Success
There was a time in my life when nothing seemed to work. No matter how hard I tried, I always ended up at the same place—tired, disappointed, and questioning my own worth. Every morning began with hope, and every night ended with regret. I watched people around me move forward while I stayed stuck, and slowly, that comparison started to destroy my confidence.
By Iazaz hussain12 days ago in Motivation
When Giving Up Felt Easier Than Breathing
There was a time in my life when waking up felt heavier than sleeping. Not because I was tired, but because I was afraid of facing another day that looked exactly like the last one — full of unanswered prayers, silent efforts, and dreams that seemed to laugh at me from a distance.
By Iazaz hussain19 days ago in Motivation
I Hit Rock Bottom Before I Learned the Truth About Success
Hit Rock Bottom Before I Learned the Truth About Success There was a time when nothing in my life seemed to work, no matter how hard I tried. Every effort ended the same way — disappointment, exhaustion, and a quiet feeling of failure that followed me everywhere. I would wake up each morning with hope, convincing myself that today would be different. But by night, I was lying in bed replaying my mistakes, wondering why I was still stuck while everyone else seemed to move forward.
By Iazaz hussain19 days ago in Motivation
The Silence at Blackmere House
Blackmere House stood at the edge of a forgotten coastal cliff, where the wind howled through broken railings and the sea beat against sharp rocks like a restless heart. It was the kind of place people in the UK whispered about, a house with a history so dark that even local tour guides avoided telling the full story.
By Iazaz hussain2 months ago in Horror
The Last Light on Hollow Ridge
Elliot Granger had always been a collector of strange places. While most people traveled for beaches, food, or nightlife, he hunted for forgotten roads, abandoned towns, and eerie landmarks that never appeared on tourist maps. His friends in London called it ridiculous. His sister in New York called it dangerous. And his cousin in Sydney said, “Mate, one day you’ll find a place that doesn’t want to be found.”
By Iazaz hussain2 months ago in Fiction
The Last House on Miller’s Ridge
Miller’s Ridge wasn’t the kind of place anyone visited on purpose. It was a forgotten stretch of road outside a quiet town in West Virginia, lined with pines that swayed like tall, whispering giants. Locals said the road had been cursed ever since the coal boom ended, ever since the mines shut down and the people moved away. But one house still stood at the dead end of the road — the last house on Miller’s Ridge — and every kid in town grew up hearing the same warning:
By Iazaz hussain2 months ago in Horror
The Last Light on Willow Creek
Willow Creek, Montana, didn’t look like the kind of place where nightmares lived. From the highway, it seemed peaceful—mountains in the distance, tall pines swaying like they were whispering to each other, and a narrow gravel road leading to a handful of houses, a diner, and a closed-down mine that everyone pretended didn’t exist.
By Iazaz hussain3 months ago in Horror
Whispers in the Fog
The village of Kharband was known for two things: its endless blankets of thick white fog, and the strange silence that fell after sunset. No matter how loudly children laughed or how far the goats wandered, the moment the sun slipped behind the mountains, the entire valley grew so silent that even the wind dared not whisper.
By Iazaz hussain3 months ago in Horror
The Last Lightkeeper
No one had lived in it for years—not since Elias Marrow vanished on a fog-heavy morning and left the shoreline without its keeper. Yet every evening at dusk, without fail, the lantern ignited. A thin beam of gold carved through the dark like a watchful eye, sweeping over the waves with mechanical precision.
By Iazaz hussain3 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Last Hour
In the heart of an old bazaar, tucked between a spice shop and a forgotten bookstore, stood Rauf’s Clockworks, a tiny shop filled with ticking, chiming, and humming clocks. Some were antique, some handmade, and some—according to rumor—were not entirely from this world. Rauf, the elderly clockmaker, had spent his whole life repairing time, second by second.
By Iazaz hussain3 months ago in Horror
The Timekeeper’s Last Message
In the towering, neon-soaked city of Zareenabad, where hover-cars zipped between sky-bridges and digital billboards painted the night with electric colors, lived a quiet mechanic named Arib Khan. His workshop was small, buried between high-tech repair shops and drone-delivery terminals, but Arib didn’t mind. He liked small spaces. They made the world feel manageable — predictable.
By Iazaz hussain3 months ago in Fiction
