Horror
Our Song. Top Story - February 2026. Content Warning.
Evening has given way to night. Gently, I settle next to you on the comfortable, old love seat and reach for your hand. You snatch it away, again. It cuts me to the quick, but I hide the pain, understanding that the reaction is but part of your demented state. Since the accident, your presence here in our cozy home has been clouded by a haze I can't see. Nevertheless, I feel the frigidity of your expressions and it serves as an excruciating reminder of the immeasurable distance between us.
By Dana Crandell3 days ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Forgotten Garden
The old garden had been abandoned for as long as anyone could remember. Once, it had been the pride of a sprawling estate on the outskirts of the city—lush flowers, singing birds, and fountains that sparkled like silver under the sunlight. But time had not been kind. The garden gates were rusted shut, ivy had crept over the marble statues, and the fountains had dried into cracked basins. No one ventured near it anymore.
By Sudais Zakwan4 days ago in Fiction
Liminal: New Audio Fiction
While you wouldn’t have known it from the Golden Globes podcast nominations this year, audio fiction podcasts are largely a province of independent podcasting. While large podcast networks like Spotify have not figured out how to recoup their considerable investment in audio fiction, innovative indie podcasters have found that sweet spot between creative innovation and financial prudence.
By Frank Racioppi4 days 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 Fielder4 days ago in Fiction
Where Do You Go When the Story Doesn’t End?
Sometimes stories end because the book is actually finished. Others abruptly stop because the reader has fallen asleep. But sometimes the story keeps going simply because it's developed a mind of its own, leaving you to keep turning the pages without noticing.
By Shannon Hilson4 days ago in Fiction
Vision of Amaya. Content Warning.
Amaya woke suddenly, the ice cold grip of early morning air ripping her out of a nightmare. All was quiet. The sun had not yet bathed the hills in its light. The birds were silent, waiting for the sunlight to reach across the world and warm their feathers. Dawn was still a couple hours away.
By Madison "Maddy" Newton6 days ago in Fiction
The Town That Forgot Tomorrow
Subtitle 1: Every morning in the town of Everfall began the same way. At exactly 7:00 a.m., the church bell rang once. At 7:05, the bakery doors opened, releasing the smell of warm bread into the foggy streets. At 7:10, children walked to school in neat lines, their shoes tapping in perfect rhythm against the pavement.
By Iazaz hussain6 days ago in Fiction
