Fantasy

Why?
The collar of my stark white shirt was soaked to the bone, just like the back of my neck. Like wet paper against my neck. I could blame the August heat or the diner's broken air conditioning. I was tracing the peeling part of the Formica table with my fingers, pressing my thumb into the deep grooves. Hard enough to keep from breaking.
By Manuel C.3 days ago in Fiction
The Hunt for Dahlia
Paws the size of bucklers slapped down one after another through the mud that made up the eastern pass that ran out through the Agathok. The locals referred to it as Mercas Way, no doubt because of the vast amount of trade caravans and merchants that frequented it in the dry months. The beast gave a low moan and tossed its head back and forth several times to shake the rain and dirt from its face, picking up its pace slightly as it grew giddy at the prospect of a clean hide. The deserts had been warm the last few years allowing the beast to lounge with its master out in the sun, but the packing of sand into everything that was not sealed had been an uncomfortable compromise.
By Brier3 days ago in Fiction
The Corner Table
Every morning, the cafe illed with the same quiet rhythm. The door chimed, the espresso machine hissed, and the regulars appeared in a steady procession.
By Zakir Ullah3 days ago in Fiction
A Convening of Heaven's Conference Table.
"There will never be any peace...until God is seated at the conference table". (The ChiLites, 1973). "Hear ye. Hear ye. By the power of the All Seeing and Unseen, I thus make this holy proclamation to declare, affirm and acknowledge that...
By Novel Allen3 days ago in Fiction
Berganashio - Chapter 34
Kunya's muscles were starting to ache from flying, "Don't you find it odd that we're heading back to the caverns of Mem where the battle occurred just days ago?"
By Rowan Finley 3 days ago in Fiction
Dwarves!. Top Story - March 2026.
Two and a half centuries ago, The muck of the Iwandapowa swamp parted. A great eye socket emerged, and blinked the cake of the terrain away.
By Noah Husband3 days ago in Fiction
Space and Time. Content Warning.
Time I just wanted to explore the world. See its beauty, relish the experience of discovery; at least, a discovery new to me. But even that seemed to be a tall order. As soon as I received my apprenticeship honors from the village leader, my dear mother was bewitched as she ventured to the mountains. They told me not a single person has ever awakened from a bewitchment, that after twelve years, the souls of those bewitched will be snuffed as tribute to the gods. They told me this was divine retribution. That this was fate, and if not for her going up to the mountains to pray to her false deities, she would still be alive. But she was alive…
By bemnet zelalem3 days ago in Fiction
The Man Who Survived 76 Days Lost at Sea: A True Story of Survival. AI-Generated.
The Man Who Survived 76 Days Lost at Sea: A True Story of Survival The ocean can be beautiful, peaceful, and endless. But when you are lost in it—completely alone—it becomes something else entirely.
By Baseer Shaheen 4 days ago in Fiction
Echoes of Resistance
The streets of Bristol were alive that day, though not with the usual hum of buses and chatter, but with the heavy pulse of voices that demanded to be heard. I had not intended to join the protest—I came to observe, to write, to bear witness—but once I stepped into the swell of people, the energy was impossible to ignore. The banners waved above heads, each one a story, a demand, a prayer. The scent of rain-soaked asphalt mixed with the faint tang of chalk from hastily scrawled messages, leaving the air electric.
By imtiazalam4 days ago in Fiction
Gorgon's Purgatory. Content Warning.
A tingling sensation fills my head. A deep pressure builds into agonizing pain as the serpents swallow their midnight meal. They move their jaws in synchronized contractions, forcing the bodies of mice down their gullets. The mice wiggle within the snakes for what feels like an eternity, brushing the scaly, cold skin in a ballet of torture.
By Tas The Artist 4 days ago in Fiction
The Shape of the Law From the Man of the Mountain
The man from the mountain did not come down shining but that was how people told it later, after years had worn the terror smooth and made a lantern of him in memory. When I first saw him descending through the dusk, he looked like someone who had been pulled through the inside of a storm and returned only in part. Dust clung to the hollows of his face. His robe was split at the shoulder. His mouth moved once before sound came out as if speech had been thinned by the height and had not yet thickened again in the air below; still the people surged toward him. They always did when fear and hope wore the same face.
By Cadma4 days ago in Fiction
#mothman
As I sat with the phone in my hand, my heart in my throat and trying hard not to let it show in my voice, the deep growling tone that no human throat could make rang through the line, leaving me cold and goose-bumpy.
By Alicia Anspaugh4 days ago in Fiction