Psychological

The Sack. Content Warning.
Author’s Note: This story was originally written for a creative prompt and has since been revisited and revised. Though fictional, it draws inspiration from real historical atrocities and the destruction of thriving Black communities in America. The language within the journal entries reflects the prejudices of the era in which the fictional narrator lived. While certain terms have been softened, they are included to illuminate the cruelty and contradictions of that time, not to excuse or endorse them.
By Briya Shockley34 minutes ago in Fiction
The Witch’s Poisonous Bite. Content Warning.
The beast bit into my flesh, and the wet, sucking sound of his sharp teeth tearing into skin, blood, muscle, and tendons made me nauseous.
By Minou J. Lindeabout 4 hours ago in Fiction
Any Minute Now. Content Warning.
Molly started the coffee and opened the kitchen curtains to let in some of the morning light. It was bright out, as was often the case here, where she lived near the desert canyon with Jack.
By Shannon Hilsonabout 10 hours ago in Fiction
The impact came from nowhere.. AI-Generated.
One moment, Adam was crossing the campus quad, his textbook tucked under his arm, thinking about the thermodynamics exam he hadn't studied enough for. The next moment, something hard and heavy collided with the side of his face, and the world dissolved into a spray of red and a sound like rushing water.
By mohamed hasanabout 14 hours ago in Fiction
Terms and Conditions Apply
The first time it happened, Mara was cutting limes. She was in the kitchen at work, the small one behind the café where the air always smelled faintly of citrus cleaner and burnt milk. Her phone lay face-down on the counter beside her apron, silent. She hadn’t touched it in ten minutes, which already felt rebellious.
By Jesse Leeabout 16 hours ago in Fiction
Harbingers of the Apocalypse
"For the love of Go....! What is this madness. What is happening. Am I dreaming". I am trapped in a nightmare. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are riding towards me. I try to run...but I am paralysed with fear, rooted numb with horror - for terrifying are they to behold. My mind is fast forwarding backwards, like a movie reel spinning in reverse. I stare stupidly at the symbolic figures from the Book of Revelation, representing significant events that will occur at the end of days.
By Novel Allenabout 20 hours ago in Fiction
The night everything changed. Content Warning.
As soon as I saw it, I knew what needed to be done. I left without a second thought. I ran straight into the pouring rain and was soaked within seconds. I shivered and pulled my cloak tighter, but the buttons were broken and I couldn’t close it properly. One was missing, and the rest hung from loose threads. A cold draft slipped through, the wind flowing freely.
By Minou J. Lindea day ago in Fiction
Love as Consumption
I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. That inevitable crush. I knew as soon as I walked through the door, we’d have words — stern, unproductive words. The atmosphere choked me, the scent of Bolognese burned into the bottom of the pan reminding me why it’s best I do the cooking, and of the air of unfiltered bitterness that had been present for years.
By Paul Stewarta day ago in Fiction
Performative Ritual
He has certain expectations for the women in his life. Her closet represents many of them; only whores show their shoulders or their knees. Skirts must be long. Tank tops are simply for other people. People who aren’t them. People who aren’t decent like they are.
By Leigh Victoria Phan, MS, MFAa day ago in Fiction
Four
… After kissing Victoire goodbye and leaving her in the middle of the night street, Romain and I enter his building and climb up to the fourth floor. Incidentally, I live on the fourth floor too. So does Victoire. As it happens, most of my friends have ended up on this floor, without meaning to. Is there something magical about this even natural number? One, two, three, four.
By Anastasia Tsarkovaa day ago in Fiction
Emergency Services
Emergency Services They made six calls that night. Six false emergencies, spaced just far enough apart to feel clever. Laughter pressed into sleeves, invented panic, then the click of disconnection. The operator stayed calm every time. Calm made it feel harmless. He went home believing the night had been wasted on nothing.
By Marie381Uk 2 days ago in Fiction
The Passenger
The one unspoken rule: don't let the driver be held responsible for the crash. Shoved into a car with them as you are only allowed to have relationships if you stay in their car and never leave. The insult looming of having to become resilient when jumping out of the car to get through being independent and those copying you choose alone and brag about being able to choose it. It is a sick mockery that is allowed to go on. These people taking from you while not asking for it and you adapting way better than most while surviving. Now there is insult to injury of those pretending they don't have people or making alone time a "silly little fun thing" to be up to after they destroyed someone's life.
By Seashell Harpspring 2 days ago in Fiction