Thriller
Whispers of the Past (Chapter 05)
Maya's mind was spinning. With every step she took, she felt like she was being pulled deeper and deeper into a labyrinth of realities she wasn't sure she was ready for. James had urged her to leave, but something inside of her compelled her to believe that she had no choice but to uncover the final truth, no matter what.
By Bari Mir Rahamatul10 months ago in Chapters
Whispers of the Past (Chapter 04)
Maya couldn't shake the feeling that she was teetering on the edge of something enormous—something that could annihilate everything she had ever known about her mother, and even herself. She walked rapidly down the streets, the notebook Daniel had given her held tightly under her arm, its weight now a constant reminder that the truth was at last within her reach.
By Bari Mir Rahamatul10 months ago in Chapters
Whispers of the Past (Chapter 03)
Maya could not get the letters, the photographs, and the man in the photos—Daniel—out of her head. Her mother had never spoken about him, not even once, yet here was evidence. These were no ordinary letters; they were confessions, heartbreaking admissions of a love that had remained hidden for years.
By Bari Mir Rahamatul10 months ago in Chapters
Whispers of the Past (Chapter 02)
Maya couldn't help but feel that the walls of the house were closing in on her. The letter she had just read left her gasping, the burden of her mother's secret weighing heavily on her breast. Who was her mother really? And what kind of life had she lived that she had kept hidden for so long?
By Bari Mir Rahamatul10 months ago in Chapters
Whispers of the Past (Chapter 01)
Maya stood on the porch of the house she left ten years before. The house she promised herself she would never again set foot in. The house where memories she never wanted to see again were packed away in dusty corners and empty rooms.
By Bari Mir Rahamatul10 months ago in Chapters
The Conduit: Chapter 6
Chapter 6 ‘Buzz, Buzz, Buzz, Buzz, Buzz….’ The alarm in Max’s bedroom sounded. Max woke up, in a stunned state of cold sweat, screaming out as he jumped from his bed. He shook himself as he looked around, expecting to see the mysterious woman he’d been with. His right hand tightly gripped something large and weighted. The muscles in his hand were so shocked, they cramped around the pages of the book, his fingers lodged between pages 275 and 276.
By Jason Ray Morton 10 months ago in Chapters
"I Rented an Airbnb in Louisiana… The Rules Said Never Open the Attic Door."
1. The Too-Good-To-Be-True Deal "The Airbnb listing was perfect: a secluded cabin near New Orleans for $35/night. The host, ‘Claire,’ had one rule: ‘Never open the attic door—it’s unstable.’ I laughed. What harm could a dusty attic do?
By AMINUL ISLAM ZIHAD11 months ago in Chapters
Before It Ends. Content Warning.
As soon as my mother left the room, I removed the ring and placed it back in my jewelry box. I even took a photo with my phone as proof, because I was doubting myself after seeing it on my finger. I tried to shake off the nightmares and the ring being on my finger as I went to take a shower. I kept having flashes of the shadow staring into my soul as I lay there unable to move in bed. As the water from the shower cascaded down my face, I tried to block the images from repeating in my head... it didn't help. I went down for breakfast, the vision of the shadow figure standing at my bedside, watching me... it continued to linger through my mind constantly.
By Luna Verity11 months ago in Chapters
CHAPTER I:The Well of Unspoken Melodies
At times, late into the night, just before dawn arrives, I find myself standing at the brink of the well behind my apartment, which is but the lame remains of a stone opening from which an unwelcome dampness and an inexplicable nostalgic odor egress. The woman I have fallen in love with exists in the silence of the well, although she has never visited, lived, or moved into this space. She could reside in the negative spaces: the interval between the drops of water, the shadow that hugs the bricks, the remembered laughter of a laugh I dreamed once. I have made a secret of her name even to myself.I met her in a jazz bar in Shinjuku, Tokyo, while the saxophone's vapid breath fogged the windows and the ice in my whiskey would freeze in time. She sat two barstools down from me and was reading from an old edition of The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, her fingers slowly stroking the book's spine as if it were an artifact of divine significance. Her hair settled as a curtain of protection between us, and every time she turned a page, the sound rumbled like nearby thunder. I made myself order another drink that I didn't want, to remain comfortable to the warm silence while she had not left. She left before the set was over and left a hair clip, which was shaped like a small sparrow.I concealed it within my pocket, where it buzzed against my thigh like a caged cicada.The hairpin now rests upon my poor, sad desk next to an unwanted stack of letters that regretfully, I have never sent. Of an evening, when the pulse of the city becomes somewhat relaxed, I will press it to my ear and imagine I can hear something—a jazz standard played backward or a train running on tracks too far out of the imagination to fully comprehend. I write her about these oddities; “The well is deeper than it seems,” I scrawl once, and crumple the paper. The language fails. It lays claims to the canted shape of desire.The dreams started in October. I am trapped in a hotel with a winding labyrinth of a space; a corridor might break into the sky without stars, an elevator opening into a field of wheat, not a cloud, or an elevator. She is always there, just out of reach type of way; a shadow out of a window, and a voice, somewhere down a corridor. At one point, a cat, a black stray that seemed to be unchanged in my likeness was about to meet me like a time traveler. Flicking its tail like a pendulum, I made eye contact, finding my girl's reflection on the solid blackness of its iris. “You are chasing a ghost, you know,” it said, though it had no working mouth. “The question is, isn't that the point of the story, for you to chase a ghost?"
By LUCCIAN LAYTH11 months ago in Chapters
Locker Room: Wild Games . AI-Generated.
Chapter One: A Game of Desire The bell rang, signaling the start of another school day at Ridgewood High. Harmony stepped out of her dad’s car, adjusting the hem of her sweater self-consciously. The morning air was crisp, yet she could already feel the familiar heat of insecurity creeping up her neck. She wasn’t ugly—not in the way some girls were whispered about—but she wasn’t the kind to turn heads either. She was plump, soft in all the places society told her she shouldn’t be. But none of that had ever really mattered. Not until Jason Carter. “Harmony, hurry up!” Mia called, flipping her long, honey-blonde hair over her shoulder. She was effortlessly stunning, the kind of girl who walked into a room and commanded attention without trying. Next to her stood Alyssa, their other best friend, scrolling through her phone with disinterest. Harmony tightened her grip on her books and caught up with them. “You won’t believe what happened,” Mia said, her voice laced with excitement. “Jason freaking Carter broke up with Rachel last night.” Harmony’s heart skipped a beat. Jason Carter—the school’s golden boy, star of the basketball team, and every girl’s wet dream. He was the kind of guy girls fantasized about in the dark, whispering his name between shallow breaths. “Why’d they break up?” Alyssa asked, unimpressed. Mia smirked. “Rumor has it he’s got his eye on someone else.” Harmony knew she had no business feeling anything about Jason Carter. Guys like him didn’t go for girls like her. But the way Mia was looking at her now, with that knowing glint in her eye, sent a shiver down her spine. “You should totally go for it,” Mia said, nudging Harmony playfully. Harmony scoffed. “Yeah, right. Jason Carter doesn’t even know I exist.” Mia grinned. “He does now.” Before Harmony could ask what that meant, she felt it—the weight of someone’s gaze. She turned just in time to catch Jason walking past, his athletic frame towering over the crowd. His scent lingered—a mix of expensive cologne and sweat. And then, just as quickly as it happened, he was gone. Harmony exhaled, trying to ignore the way her stomach flipped. She was in trouble.
By adebayo omobolarinwa11 months ago in Chapters
