Fantasy
The Clock
What Would You Do If You Knew Exactly When? THE DEVICE NOBODY ASKED FOR 🕐 The Countdown Clock appeared in every home on Earth simultaneously at midnight on January first without explanation or warning, a small digital display that materialized on the wall of every bedroom in every house and apartment and shelter and prison cell on the planet showing a number counting backward in real-time, and it took humanity approximately three hours to understand what the numbers represented because the first people whose clocks reached zero died instantly and peacefully at the exact moment their display hit 00:00:00:00, and the worldwide panic that followed as eight billion people simultaneously confronted personalized death countdowns that could not be removed, covered, or destroyed because any attempt to damage or obscure a clock resulted in it immediately reappearing on the nearest wall, was the most destabilizing event in human history, more disruptive than any war or pandemic because it gave every person on Earth the one piece of information that human psychology is least equipped to handle: the exact moment of their death 💀
By The Curious Writera day ago in Fiction
The Dreamholders of Tessarna
Beyond the snowy slopes of the twin Plardo-Tylno Peaks with their ruby caps, across the Sea of Fiery Tamarinds where the trees grow out of the purple reefs to spray burning spores into the wind. Between the River Endurib’s wide delta that meanders aimlessly around the Plain of Milisino licking the plain’s fields of golden grass, and the sharp obsidian blades of the Wicklaure Mountains where the Dwerrow mine for diamonds and cut obsidian blades. At the centre of the vast and ancient Empire of Tessarna that is ruled by the mighty Lord of the City, Divine Emperor of the Manifold Blades, the Emperor-God Thah-Rast who has ruled there for ten thousand generations. There sits the many-spired citadel of Chega-Toleh, where the streets are limned in purple banners of silk and the paving stones are green marble laced with threads of gold brought up from the sea by the sixteen mighty hands of titanic Thah-Rast. Here the Guild of Dweomercraefters makes its magical vessels to store up dreams in captured form to be experienced again and again by whosoever seeks them. Dreams small and large, pleasant and horrible, all manner of dreams they ensnare in the delicate glass vessels and sell to the highest bidder.
By Samuel Wright2 days ago in Fiction
Magic - Chapter Two
Author's note: Today, my stream of consciousness flows easily without having to think through the story. Therefore, I am letting my subconscious do the work. I am writing this after writing the following, which you will soon read, and I want to mention that everything I have written so far is purely from my subconscious mind. I have not planned the plot, especially what will happen in today's chapter; you will wonder if I have planned this particular incident. The answer is 'No, I have not'. To be honest, it just came into my mind rather abruptly as I was writing, and that's how the subconscious usually works. I hope you understand what I am saying. If you don't, I recommend you read the book The Power of Your Subconscious Mind by Joseph Murphy.
By Denise Larkin3 days ago in Fiction
Tempest of Iron Tides
The Gathering Storm The ocean had always belonged to no one—and yet, men had tried for centuries to claim it. Captain Elian Voss stood at the prow of the warship Aegis Valor, his coat snapping in the rising wind. Before him stretched an endless expanse of darkening water, the horizon swallowed by a wall of storm clouds. The air smelled of salt, oil, and something metallic—like the promise of blood.
By Sahir E Shafqat3 days ago in Fiction
Bacon. Top Story - April 2026. Content Warning.
Satan, laughing, spreads his wings. He launches into an atmosphere riddled with smoke, soot, and ash. He feels the radiation from a thousand fallen nukes. For humanity, it’s certain death. For him, it’s like bathing in a sauna. He laughs again at the thought.
By C. Rommial Butler3 days ago in Fiction
The Painting That Aged Instead of Her 🎨
THE PORTRAIT IN THE ATTIC 🖼️ When renowned artist Julian Reeves painted his girlfriend Celeste's portrait during the summer of 2019, he did not intend to create anything supernatural or extraordinary, just an oil painting of the woman he loved captured in the golden light of their Brooklyn apartment during the happiest period of their relationship, but the painting which took three months to complete and which Julian considered his finest work developed a quality that neither of them could explain and that would eventually destroy their relationship and transform their understanding of love, beauty, and the terrible cost of trying to preserve something that is meant to change 🎨
By The Curious Writer3 days ago in Fiction
Bahlool and the Silent Traveler
Bahlool and the Silent Traveler Baghdad was a city of wonders, but one afternoon, the mood in the Great Hall of Khalifa Haroun al-Rashid was anything but wonderful. A traveler had arrived from a distant land, bringing with him a challenge that left the city’s most famous scholars and viziers completely speechless. The man didn't speak a word; instead, he posed his questions through signs and gestures.
By Amir Husen3 days ago in Fiction
Like The Ashes of Lanterns on the Wind
One of the problems with living in the swamp is that there is no horizon. The other is the random appearance of the wisps. The lantern’s glow reminded me of the little pests, each a lantern unto itself. Sometimes, like tonight, they would cover the swamp. Like people, there were many types of wisps, and the problem was figuring out which were which, especially given how identical the flames were to each other. If you followed the right ones, you could become a richer person, but if you followed the wrong ones, you could become as ashes in the wind.
By Jamais Jochim4 days ago in Fiction
The Woman
Every Handshake Delivered a Flavor She Couldn't Ignore THE GIFT NOBODY WANTED 🎁 Nora Kim discovered her ability on her seventh birthday when her grandmother hugged her and she tasted cinnamon and honey so strongly that she searched the room for cookies before realizing that the flavors were coming from the embrace itself, from the warmth and love that her grandmother radiated through physical contact, and this was the beginning of a life lived through a sense that nobody believed existed and that transformed every human interaction into a gustatory experience that could be beautiful or revolting depending on the emotional state of the person touching her. Handshakes with strangers tasted like water, neutral and forgettable, but handshakes with people harboring hidden anger tasted like burnt metal, and the embrace of a friend who secretly resented her tasted like spoiled milk despite the smile on the friend's face, and this constant involuntary translation of human emotion into flavor meant that Nora could never be deceived about how someone truly felt about her because their body chemistry communicated through her tongue what their words and expressions might conceal 🍯
By The Curious Writer4 days ago in Fiction
