Horror
A Rich Man’s War
A Rich Man’s War The men who wanted war never smelled it. They sat in cosy offices warmed by polished wood and quiet agreement, tracing borders with clean fingers, moving lives with the slide of a pen. They spoke of strategy as if it were a game, of honour as if it were theirs to spend. War, to them, was something to be chosen, something to be craved, because it gave them power without risk. Down below, the craving did not exist.
By George’s Girl 2026 3 months ago in Fiction
The House With Two Halves
CHAPTER ONE Torsten sat in the window seat in his bedroom. Half of the stained glass window was flung open, and sitting so near the window, he gave the whole court something to see. His beauty was rare and rich, as he was the youngest son of the King and Queen. He was a prince. However, he had a very different fate from the other princes of the kingdom.
By Stephanie Van Orman3 months ago in Fiction
Not There. Content Warning.
He always touched me like he was checking I was still there. Not urgently. Not roughly. Just a hand on my wrist, my shoulder, the small of my back when we moved through rooms together. A habit I learned to expect before I learned to question. I told myself it was affection, that he needed closeness the way some people need reassurance. I never pulled away. I didn’t want him to think I could disappear again.
By Courtney Jones3 months ago in Fiction
Heavely Seas Chapter 17
There had to be a way for the curse to end. Elodie’s worst fears had been realised. The secrets that had devoured her for years were about to be exposed. The golden vacation was a nightmare beyond imagination. Her chest ached. Her muscles clenched.
By Chloe Gilholy3 months ago in Fiction
The Devil Gets What He Wanted
“Hello Old Scratch. My name is Glabon. I assume you know why I am here?” “Of course, Glabon, as you no doubt know, I know many things, most in fact.” “Well, despite that I am required by my superiors to inform you of my intentions in any case.” “And, you always do what you are told don’t you my friend Glabon?” “Of course, and I am not your friend, nor are you anyone’s friend, but that matters not for purposes of this discussion.” “No need to hurl insults, it was only a figure of speech. I would suggest you lighten up, but I assume your superiors would find that objectionable, and my guess is you are not capable of it. Do you ever even smile Glabon? Or laugh? No, I presume not.” “Mr. Scratch I am not here for banter or games, I am here for your interview. As you know a select group has been commissioned to write your biography for the historical record.”
By Everyday Junglist3 months ago in Fiction
