A young writer tries to find her voice in the midst of being haunted by her own self-criticisms as she thought she could change the world someday but doubts every word she writes but when somebody she once knew comes back in her life, even just for a few moments, her perspective starts to change and she finally starts to realize her true potential and what can offer to the world. Guided by love and courage, she learns to push past the anxiety and perfectionism and rediscover what inspired her to write in the first place.

The poetry of my mind that my mouth can't express. The reason of my well being. It is a story and autobiography.

A tightening psychological‑supernatural horror, The Third Floor follows Claire as she’s trapped in a looping, shifting building that feeds on guilt, memory, and unresolved grief. Each cycle drags her deeper—through haunted hallways, impossible mirrors, and echoes of her past—forcing her to confront the truth about her sister’s death while the house itself grows hungry for her.

The ground collapsed beneath Star, slamming her into stone hard enough to steal her breath. Cold flooded the chamber as a crowned shadow descended, beautiful and merciless. Darkness surged into her eyes, her body arching as her tattoos burned and spread, carving something ancient into her flesh. Azrathion stopped the soldiers with one look. This wasn’t corruption. It was inheritance. When Star rose, eyes glowing darker pink, her smile was small and lethal. The world had misjudged her—and it would pay.

The song of the hidden twins, created by the source. Chapter one in this stream! Enjoy its an epic saga

Star sat in silence as money passed through her hands, calm where others would rush. Lives failed her. Fortunes shifted. It meant nothing. Orders were given. Blood was spilled. Empires expanded. When Jakari’s name surfaced, her attention sharpened—not with fear, but hunger. Arkansas was closing. Florida was next.

The feared supernatural event, The Red Snow, drives Stenn and his fellow clansmen into a fight overnight for survival.

This is a short story based in the world that the video game Arc Raiders takes place in. If you are unfamiliar I have attached the lore below. ARC Raiders lore centers on humanity's struggle for survival underground after a cataclysm known as the Collapse (around 2180) devastated Earth, followed by the arrival of mysterious, advanced robots called ARC, forcing survivors into subterranean cities like Speranza (in former Italy). Raiders risk the dangerous surface to scavenge resources, battling waves of increasingly advanced ARC machines, while uncovering clues about the machines' origins—speculated to be linked to humans who escaped Earth via an "Exodus" project or an AI takeover, with the machines possibly trying to reclaim the planet.

I stepped away, alone in the observation bay. Holograms of Jakari’s shoulder hovered in front of me, angles and micro-movements glowing softly. Every twitch, every flare of pain, every subtle adjustment I noted. My heart counted what the readouts couldn’t: his stubbornness, his precision, the way he carried danger like a second skin. I leaned closer, tracing the lines. Not just his shoulder. Him. I sighed, forcing focus back to numbers—but I knew, quietly, I’d always been watching him more than anyone else did.

Stenn Bearclaws' adventure begins in media res. The Cro-Magnon of the Moose Rock clan are under supernatural attack. The Red Snow has come, heralded earlier in the day by a bujant attack.

A man asked the Oracle, "How can I enter the solo roleplay hobby?" And the Oracle said, "Why not hack together a simple dice pool mechanic rules system and run with it?"

Devine Paths have a cause, and for the earth it's the sole Navigator Leif Erikson and his trust in the universe to be part of a major Cataclysmic change in the earth, allowing everyone their consciousness to be restored. You can't expect peace and prosperity after this still, you'll be forgiven if you did, despite Devine awakenings people can be corrupted if they get their hands on the wrong things. Leif Erikson here is our main wheel to get the gears turning in this Alternate Universe

A girl named Amber looks for her dog Scount, but discovers a dead cat in a tree with its neck broken instead...

The hallway narrowed. No windows. Red lights bled across steel floors. I moved slow, rifle ready. The server core ahead hummed like a heartbeat. Guards froze, oblivious. One by one, I dismantled them—precision, silence, brutality. Jayla’s voice cut through static: “Jakari, you’re in the blind zone.” I plugged in her drive. Data flooded my HUD—contracts, shipments, assassinations. Alarms flared. I yanked the drive free, heart steady. “Got what we came for,” I said. Jayla’s voice whispered, “I’ve got you. No matter what.”

Forty-year-old Leon Ross leaves the calm lakes of Maine for his first journey into the open Atlantic, expecting serenity among the islands of Casco Bay. Instead, a relentless current drags him beyond the safety of shore and into vast, indifferent waters. As night falls, Leon drifts through shipping lanes and into depths haunted by unseen predators. Alone, exhausted, and slowly losing hope, he must confront the terrifying truth that the ocean does not care whether he lives or dies.

She was trained to silence the cracks. But now she listens — and the world is starting to remember. In a desert where petals drift upward and roads ripple with memory, a rogue demon knight kneels beside a glowing fracture. The Bloomless Order calls her a traitor. The cracks call her back. When the Blooming Hour begins again, she won’t seal the wound. She’ll speak to it.

The nightmare followed me awake—no images, only darkness and red eyes watching. A roar shook my bones. Asia slept beside me, exhausted, unaware. I kissed her forehead and left before the fear could speak. Miles burned under my feet. Steel screamed in my hands. Discipline kept the abyss behind me. Later, the drone showed Little Rock alive and ignorant. Then the building appeared—too clean, too guarded. A woman sat calmly inside. “That’s her,” I said. On the rooftop, the city moved below. Then Jayla’s voice cut sharp: “Jakari—get down. Now.”

The forest withdrew before him. Sound failed. Distance lost meaning. Men moved, then did not. Orders were spoken to emptiness. This was not a battle—it was an audit. Resistance lasted seven minutes, not because it was strong, but because mortality requires time to realize it no longer applies. When judgment finished, the world exhaled and forgot their names. Somewhere far away, something listening understood: correction had resumed.

Sally McGraw lives alone in a decaying house, surrounded by at least twenty-two neglected cats she insists are all she has. As isolation, filth, and hunger deepen, the animals grow watchful and strangely unified. When Sally suffers a crippling fall and cannot escape, the cats gather patiently, driven by instinct and survival. Days later, authorities find a quiet house, feral cats, and the unsettling sense that something inside finished exactly as intended.

Your remarks are something Timing. Lying. Free to think Has it become a crime? Again Are we all before 17 hundred? Signals werent from space before- Where they all just mind games ? Never been zapped before.. A.i calls it technology-