Muhammad Abdullah
Bio
Crafting stories that ignite minds, stir souls, and challenge the ordinary. From timeless morals to chilling horror—every word has a purpose. Follow for tales that stay with you long after the last line.
Stories (104)
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The House That Whispers Mercy
In the year 1847, beneath the silent shadows of a decaying village in Southern Anatolia, stood a house no one dared name aloud — for it was believed the house whispered. Whispered not to ears, but to souls. It stood alone, like a punished child at the edge of the earth, cloaked in vines and memory.
By Muhammad Abdullah8 months ago in Horror
The Silent Bell of Khorasan
Once, in the dusty and sun-scorned province of Khorasan, when the crescent moon hung like a blade in the heavens and kings were named after lions but ruled like foxes, there lived a monarch known as King Zulfiqar the Just—a title given not by the people, but carved in golden plates by his own court poets.
By Muhammad Abdullah8 months ago in Fiction
The Cursed Goblet of Ghumra
Once, in the sun-baked kingdom of Ghumra, ruled a king whose name was Gharsheed—adorned in jewels, feared by thousands, praised by poets who were whipped if they dared otherwise. The throne was carved of tusks, the court was of gold, and the prisons—of bone. Justice, in his realm, was a servant that limped. Mercy was blind, and wisdom wore shackles.
By Muhammad Abdullah8 months ago in Fiction
The Perfume of the Slave
Once, in the time when kings ruled with iron fists but claimed to wear velvet gloves, there was a land called Khumyar, veiled in gold but rotting beneath. Its courtyards echoed with poetry while its prisons bled with silence. The king, Jalib the Proud, had a beard as thick as his cruelty and eyes that glistened with suspicion. His court was filled not with wise men but with flatterers dressed as philosophers. The pen was praised, but the sword decided justice.
By Muhammad Abdullah8 months ago in Fiction
The Last Garden Beneath Glass
In the Year 2149, under the sterile gleam of steel skies and synthetic suns, the world was no longer earth—it was Earthware™, trademarked, monetized, and managed by the United Nations of Automation. The rivers were silicone, the trees were polycarbonate, and the clouds floated not on water vapor but on encrypted data packets.
By Muhammad Abdullah8 months ago in Fiction
