Adventure
NEON BLOOD EMPIRE
The night the city tried to kill her the sky was burning red and the alarms never stopped screaming and Nyx Virel stood in the middle of Sector Nine with blood on her hands not all of it hers watching a skyscraper collapse like a dying giant behind her while drones hunted her name through the air the city of Axiom Prime was not supposed to look afraid it was built to dominate to control to erase weakness but tonight it was trembling because Nyx had stolen something that was never meant to be touched the Core Seed a living quantum intelligence buried under the city for two hundred years and every gang every syndicate every artificial god connected to the grid wanted her dead Nyx did not run because she was scared she ran because standing still meant extinction and as she jumped across broken rails and burning streets memories flashed of the moment she met Kael Draven the man who taught her how to survive how to shoot without hesitation how to love without fear and how to trust in a world that punished trust the moment she landed hard on the steel bridge her comm crackled with his voice calm sharp alive telling her he was coming that he would get her out like he always did but this time the city itself had turned into a weapon and the gangs were not just criminals anymore they were armies enhanced by illegal cybernetic rituals feeding on fear and data and Nyx knew this was no longer a job gone wrong this was war and she was at the center of it whether she wanted to be or not
By Diab the story maker 2 months ago in Fiction
The Place Where Evenings Pause. AI-Generated.
The bus arrived later than promised, which felt appropriate to Naila. The town had never been good at keeping exact time. It preferred approximation—late afternoons, early evenings, moments that drifted rather than arrived.
By Mehwish Jabeen2 months ago in Fiction
When the Road Learned My Name. AI-Generated.
The road had always been louder than the village. It hummed beneath tires, carried dust into the air, and promised elsewhere with every passing vehicle. For years, Sameer believed that sound meant progress. That motion meant meaning. Standing still felt like being forgotten.
By Mehwish Jabeen2 months ago in Fiction
The Weight of Ordinary Days. AI-Generated.
Every morning at exactly seven-thirty, Imran unlocked the shop. Not earlier. Not later. The key turned with a soft resistance he had memorized years ago. The bell above the door rang once, then settled. He switched on the lights, straightened the counter, and placed the ledger in the same position it had occupied for as long as he could remember.
By Mehwish Jabeen2 months ago in Fiction
Are They All Like That, Them Moon Girls?
Things weren't going well between him and Suzy for a long time, but he denied it. He turned every negative thing that happened within the shaky confines of their home into a positive. He learned this from his mother, a perfect example of a 1950s wife. She deftly brushed off every argument or disagreement, changing the subject or forgetting about it the next day. She believed this was the only way to avoid escalation and keep the marriage together. Little did she know times were changing, and people would look kindly on divorce, to escape unhappy marriages and start living on the right path.
By Moon Desert2 months ago in Fiction
The Day the Clock Stayed Silent. AI-Generated.
On the morning the clock stopped, no one noticed right away. The town had never been ruled by urgency. People woke when light reached their windows, not when alarms demanded it. Shops opened when the owners arrived. Conversations ended when they felt complete, not when schedules insisted.
By Mehwish Jabeen2 months ago in Fiction
What the Quiet Keeps. AI-Generated.
The town grew quieter every winter, not suddenly, but the way a room changes when people stop talking one by one. Shops closed earlier. Streets emptied faster. Even the river seemed to move with less urgency, sliding beneath ice instead of rushing against its banks.
By Mehwish Jabeen2 months ago in Fiction
Bloodless Tomorrow
The world did not end when the virus turned humanity into vampires, it changed, adapted, hardened, the transformation happened slowly at first, a mutation triggered by synthetic blood substitutes created to end famine, the irony was cruel, the cure for hunger became the curse of immortality, millions transformed into nocturnal beings who no longer aged, no longer slept, and could no longer survive without blood, governments collapsed, cities were sealed, and science replaced religion as the last hope, and in the underground districts of what used to be Europe, a small group of vampires clung to a rumor whispered through encrypted networks and black-market data streams, a cure existed, not a myth, not faith, but a real scientific solution hidden beneath the ruins of an abandoned research complex, buried under kilometers of reinforced earth, accessible only through a single tunnel that no one who entered had ever returned from, and yet they decided to go, because immortality without choice was just another kind of death.
By Diab the story maker 2 months ago in Fiction
