thriller
The Shape of What She Didn't Say
I. Catalog She did not tell him she found his laugh too loud for restaurants. She did not correct him when he introduced her as his girlfriend to his mother, though they had been on four dates and she had not agreed to this.
By Destiny S. Harrisabout 11 hours ago in Fiction
Nosferotu Zavi. Content Warning.
~ Nosferotu Zavi ~ Backstory Blog ~ Nosferotu - one of the most rebellious of Lord Zavi's children - once he was eight years old, he was always sneaking out at night, many rumors claimed he never slept in their small castle.
By Mel E. Furnishabout 15 hours ago in Fiction
Tuesday at Six
Insults were her only amusement. If I were to bring anything now, it is the beauty inside me. Within. No? Don’t I bring enough? For a man, it seems not. Yet, still, there’s a bucket in my hand. No toilet that I could flush; yet, without security, I don’t bring enough.
By Caitlin Charltona day ago in Fiction
Tea Time
Like every morning, Ester watched as trembling hands lifted the robin’s egg blue teapot and poured the amber liquid into a matching teacup. Louis’ hands were wrinkled, weathered, calloused from years of work. She still loved holding those hands across the small kitchen table as they talked. She remembered doing it for fifty years, the hands had changed but they felt the same. It was a good day when she could think back over the years. It was better in the mornings. The fog of sleep when she woke up lifted and she remembered his name, but in a couple hours it wasn’t guaranteed.
By Raine Fieldera day ago in Fiction
“180 Rupees That Killed a Man”. AI-Generated.
Nobody knew exactly when Master Ilyas came to this neighborhood and when he rented this room, but everyone knew that Master Ilyas was a migrant and belonged to an area in Ambala because he spoke the dialect that is spoken in Ambala. Master Ilyas lived in a rented room and the neighborhood boys would come to him to learn counting, recite multiplication tables, and write on slates. He had a pair of partridges and a purebred rooster. The partridges remained in cages, but the purebred rooster would stand a little distance from the door of his room. Master Ilyas had put a brass anklet on one leg of the rooster and tied a strong string to it, and tied the other end of the string to a nail hammered into the threshold of his room. All the people of the neighborhood respected Master Ilyas and would pass by his door saying 'Assalam-o-Alaikum'. Master Ji also did some other work, but nobody knew what it was. Perhaps he worked as a clerk in the vegetable market, or set up a stall in a distant neighborhood, or worked as a daily wage laborer painting and varnishing in a factory. Nobody knew about him very well, but everyone knew that Master Ilyas's livelihood was just barely sufficient. Actually, Master Sahib was a simple man and did not know how to keep up with the times. For some reason, his face was such that seeing it did not generate a feeling of love or sympathy in people's hearts, and for some reason, his conversation style was such that nobody would believe him. He did not lie. He did not cheat. He did not exaggerate. He did not boast. He did not scare anyone. Because of this People did not believe him. His conversation contained many grammatical and rhetorical errors, and the listener would get frustrated and leave his company. He was so simple and innocent that he didn't seem human. He seemed like a burden on the whole neighborhood and society, and since no one liked to associate with such people, he had no friends. That is why the neighbors respected him and would say "peace be upon you" as they passed his door. One winter evening, the landlord scolded Master Ilyas in harsh words and threatened that if he did not pay the past six months' rent of 180 rupees within three days, he would throw his belongings out. Master Ji was struck dumb with fear because he did not have one hundred and eighty rupees in a lump sum. He only had forty rupees, which he had made fifty by stringing a ten-rupee note with them. Earlier, the landlord used to take forty or fifty rupees and give a future date, but this time he became stubborn and threw the fifty rupees strung on a thread in front of the purebred rooster and said, "Go away! I will not take it. Give me the full one hundred and eighty." When he said this and left, Master Ilyas picked up the fifty rupees from the floor and put them in his waistcoat pocket. Then he went into his room, sat sadly on the cot, and due to severe grief, his voice was choked, and this was the first time someone's voice was choked without crying! Ghagha (choked voice) also means loss of voice in the throat. As promised, the landlord threw his belongings out. He placed Master Sahib's cot behind the two transformer poles and arranged the rest of his belongings around it. He put a new Chinese padlock on the room and rode his scooter home. His house was quite far from this neighborhood, and he used to come monthly to collect the rent for his rooms.
By Muhammad Haris khan a day ago in Fiction
The Throne Room
The smoke hung heavy in the air, overtaking the sweet and savory smells that permeated the festival. The wooden poles that held the steel grates over the roaring flames were overturned, and the meats were ravaged by the beasts that hunted with the red-eyed shifter.
By KA Stefana 3 days ago in Fiction
Pastel Nightmare
The Johnsons were the quintessential suburban family. Laura, her husband Mark, and their two kids, Ellie and Ben, loved going all out for the holidays. Easter was no exception. Pastel-colored eggs, garlands, and bunny decorations adorned their home every year, but this time, Laura wanted to make it extra special.
By V-Ink Stories4 days ago in Fiction
The Burrow
The Thompsons had planned their Easter weekend months in advance. A family camping trip seemed like the perfect escape from the monotony of suburbia, a chance to bond over s’mores and nature hikes. The secluded Maplewood Campground, nestled deep in the woods, promised tranquility and picturesque views. They had no idea what awaited them beneath the ground.
By V-Ink Stories4 days ago in Fiction
The Ghost on the Map: My 2,000-Mile Journey to a Paris That Isn’t There
If you type "Paris" into Google Maps, the algorithm will dutifully drop a pin on the City of Light. It will show you the winding Seine, the star-shaped sprawl of the Place de l’Étoile, and enough crêperies to feed a small army.
By George Evan4 days ago in Fiction
No Signal
The first thing Lorelei noticed was the sound. Not silence — she had expected silence — but a roaring, ceaseless, all-consuming noise. The surf. It came from every direction, a white static that swallowed everything else, and for a long, disoriented moment she thought she had gone deaf and the world had filled the gap with its own voice.
By Parsley Rose 4 days ago in Fiction
