Fantasy

Harper's Hill, Chapter 24: The Land That Doesn't Forget
Getting into her cousin's car, Camille looked over at Emily and gave her a big smile. "Thanks so much for coming to get me, Emily," She beamed, closing the door. "I'm really excited to go explore the East side."
By Amanda Doyle12 months ago in Chapters
Ashes of the Drowned Part 5. Top Story - April 2025.
The compass spun faster now. Not wildly, but with purpose—always tilting toward the east, even when Elira turned it in her hands or pressed it to stillness. The spiral engraved beneath the glass glowed faintly with a tide-washed blue, and every so often, it pulsed like it was syncing to a heartbeat that wasn’t hers.
By Richard Bailey12 months ago in Chapters
Mary had a little lamb . Content Warning.
The village had changed. The houses were still there, but the people were not. What remained wore their skins—smiling too wide, eyes too dull. They moved through rituals, living by the light of a sun that hadn’t risen in weeks.
By E. hasan12 months ago in Chapters
The Accidental Archivist - Chapter 1. AI-Generated.
Kenji Tanaka sighed, the sound almost lost in the quiet hum of the Grand Library. Another Tuesday, another customer asked for a book with a blue cover about? Dragons, or something like that. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his glasses feeling familiar and steadying as he dealt with the vague request.? I ! I'll do my best,? He said, his voice soft but sure. He pointed the man toward the fantasy section, even though he suspected the book was probably in mythology, or maybe even historical fiction. The man grumbled about incompetent librarians and wandered off, leaving Kenji to his cart of returned books, neatly organized as always. He truly loved the library. The smell of old paper and leather, the quiet respect of the readers, the comforting order of the Dewey Decimal System. It was his safe place, where everything made sense. But sometimes, just sometimes, he wished for a little adventure. Maybe a dragon. Or even just finding a misplaced semicolon that led to something exciting. He glanced at the clock. Almost lunchtime. He imagined himself climbing mountains, fighting monsters, or maybe just finding a good ramen place that wasn't so far away. The bell above the entrance rang, announcing someone new. Kenji prepared himself for another unclear request, another test of his organizing skills. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked at the screen:?Mom.? He sighed. He loved his mother, but her calls were always? A lot. He silenced the phone and let it go to voicemail. He'd call her back later. Maybe. He went back to sorting books, his mind wandering back to his daydream. He pictured himself as a brave explorer, mapping unknown lands, and discovering lost cities. He chuckled quietly. Kenji Tanaka, explorer. The thought was almost funny. As he pushed his cart toward the shelves, he saw a book tucked away in the restricted section. It was old, bound in dark leather, and had no label. It shouldn't have been there. The restricted section was his area. Every book was listed, checked, and stored safely. This one was completely out of place. Curious, Kenji carefully took the book from the shelf. The leather felt strangely warm. He ran his fingers along the spine, looking for any marks. Nothing. He opened the book, his heart beating faster with a feeling of secret knowledge. The pages were filled with strange symbols and drawings, unlike anything he had ever seen. The writing was elegant but also foreign. He flipped through the pages, his curiosity growing. In the middle of the book, he found a single page covered with a complicated inscription. It looked like a spell. He frowned, unsure. He knew he should tell his boss about the book, but the inscription? It seemed to be calling to him. He felt a strong urge to read it aloud. Taking a deep breath, Kenji began to read the strange symbols, his voice a soft whisper in the quiet library. " *Aethelgard? Vocatus? Ad? Mea? Regna?*" As the last word left his lips, the library around him began to shimmer. The air crackled with energy. The shelves swayed, the books shook, and a bright light filled the room. Kenji gasped, dropping the book as a swirling vortex of colors opened in front of him, pulling him in. He reached out, grabbing for something, anything, but it was no use. The Grand Library, his safe place, his world, was gone.
By Md Hasan12 months ago in Chapters
1/0: Entries from the End Times
<participant id = 1> fished a spare loonie from her pocket, then fed it into the slot in the shopping cart’s plastic-caked handle, freeing it from the chain that entangled it with its neatly lined siblings.
By Wen Xiaosheng12 months ago in Chapters
Ashes of the Drowned Part 4
The rain hadn't stopped in two days. Not the usual kind of storm either—it moved wrong, spiraling in waves over land, creeping up riverbanks and flooding low valleys in hours. Villages inland were seeing tides roll through their streets, saltwater in their wells. Birds vanished from the skies. Fish leapt from empty air.
By Richard Bailey12 months ago in Chapters
The German Gold Miner
In the shadowed years following the First World War, a man named Johann Richter boarded a rusting steamer bound for South Africa. He carried with him a single trunk, a weathered leather journal, and a dream that glittered like the gold he sought beneath the African soil.
By Muhammad Asad12 months ago in Chapters
Mary had a little lamb. Content Warning.
The chapel cracked apart. Not with noise, but with absence. The air folded in on itself, and the stone walls peeled away like brittle paper, revealing darkness—not blackness, but a depthless void that watched. Gravity shifted. Time unraveled.
By E. hasan12 months ago in Chapters
Mary had a little lamb . Content Warning.
Mary wandered for hours, the cold biting at her skin, but the world no longer followed rules she understood. The village looked the same from a distance—but up close, the houses were different. Windows boarded from the inside. Doors covered in old, brittle runes. No sounds. No voices.
By E. hasan12 months ago in Chapters
Ashes of the Drowned Part 3
The relic whispered in the dark. It hadn’t stopped since Elira touched it. The conch—once dormant, sealed in sea-crystal and warded runes—now pulsed with a rhythm not unlike a heartbeat. A slow, wet thrum, felt more in the bones than heard in the air. When Elira closed her eyes, she could feel the sea breathing inside her skull. And sometimes, the whispers became words.
By Richard Bailey12 months ago in Chapters
Ashes of the Drowned Part 2
The water was ice-cold, and it didn’t feel natural. Vaelin and Elira trudged through the southern quarter of Nareth, where the map she recovered had marked something hidden beneath the streets. Mossy stonework arched over their heads in crumbling remnants of coastal architecture—half-drowned, half-forgotten.
By Richard Bailey12 months ago in Chapters
Mary had a little lamb . Content Warning.
Mary awoke to silence. She didn’t know how long she had been asleep—or if she had ever truly woken at all. Time felt warped, stretched thin like old wool. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar: rough wooden beams dark with age. A candle flickered somewhere nearby, casting shadows that danced like silent specters on the walls. Her limbs were heavy. Her mouth dry. But she was alive. Sebastian was the first thing she saw when she turned her head. Sitting at the edge of the room, motionless. Watching. As always. “Where… am I?” she whispered, throat raw. “You’re home,” he said gently. His voice, once a comfort, now sent a chill down her spine. “You were sick. But I’ve been taken care of you.” She nodded, too weak to question further. He nuzzled her hand with false affection, and for a fleeting moment, Mary felt the warmth of familiarity. But then, in the quiet, she heard something else. Whispers. Faint. From the floorboards below. She tried to sit up, but her body refused. Her mind, however, began to unravel the knots. There were flashes—fragments of a forest clearing, a red cloak, blood on snow. A woman screaming. A voice, too deep to belong to any lamb, whispering: “She doesn’t need to know.” Mary began to weep, quietly. And Sebastian pressed closer, as if comforting her. But she noticed something. The smell. Not of earth or hay. Not of farm life or woodsmoke. It was the coppery scent of blood. Mary’s gaze drifted across the room. In the corner, beneath a cloth, was something lumpy. A shape she couldn’t define. She blinked hard, and when she opened her eyes again, the cloth was gone. Empty space. No trace. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. That’s what Sebastian told her. “You’re remembering things that didn’t happen,” he said calmly, almost pitying. “Trauma creates shadows. I’m here to keep them away.” She nodded, trying to believe him. But every night, when the candle burned low and the shadows grew long, the whispers returned. And they weren’t in her head. They came from beneath the floor.
By E. hasan12 months ago in Chapters