This is a spooky short interlude chapter, perhaps foreshadowing? Or perchance a flashback? Up to reader's interpretation.

Some stories are meant to be read. Others....are meant to stay buried. In this chilling tale, a young women uncovers a book that doesn't just tell a story-it writes one. Page by page, word by word, her reality begins to twist into something unrecognizable. One warning echoes throughout: some books don't want to be closed. Turn the page-if you dare.

When Emily accepts a dare to spend five minutes inside the infamous 7th staff of her school's haunted girls' bathroom, she thinks it's just a harmless thrill. But what starts as a prank quickly turns into a nightmare as the door locks behind her, lights fail, and eerie whispers fill the air. Haunted by the ghost of a murdered cheerleader, Emily faces a chilling secret that refuses to stay buried-and a reflection that might not be her own. Will she escape, or become the next victim of the 7th stall?

Then, one morning, he found it. A single, perfect bloom had unfurled. It was a flower unlike any he had ever seen. Its petals were a deep, velvety black, edged with a shimmering silver that seemed to absorb the faint light. It exuded no fragrance, but held a strange, unsettling beauty.

The whisper slides through the walls, slipping beneath the door like curling fingers. It doesn’t sound human. Not quite. "Where are you?" The bed feels colder. The air heavier. The resident presses themselves against the mattress, muscles locked, refusing to move. If they don’t acknowledge it, maybe it won’t find them. But the voice doesn’t need an answer. It already knows. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. And then— "Found you."

Her phone rang with her own number flashing on the screen. When she answered, her voice whispered from the other end: “Don’t go near the mirror.”

TW: SA All picture rights reserved All rights to the poem reserved. Please do not repost or alter the poem in anyway without premision from the author. The insperation came from my own experiences.

Her daughter received a music box from a distant relative. It only played at night—and never the same tune twice. One night, it played her name.

She was only supposed to drive ten minutes. But the road wouldn’t end. And the longer she drove, the louder the breathing got—from the backseat.

Kara and Lexi had a dinner date with Mark and Sher Tucker! What did Kara and Lexi have to share with Shayla's parents? Read to find out!

Shayla Tucker has changed for the absolute worst and people have noticed! The only two to share their concerns with Mark and Sher were Shayla's best friends.

The first fourteen years of Shayla Tucker's life was picture perfect. She was nothing like any other child. Her parents were proud of Shayla's high moral conduct and kind, compassionate soul. What happened at age fifteen? How did her entire world come crashing down?

Mark Tucker and Sher Dailey met their first year of college at a party. They dated throughout college, and married after Sher finished law school. Having a child wasn't easy for them, but they were eventually blessed with a daughter.

Chapter one of my first ever story. I hope you like what you read and come back for more. I will be writing more as I have the time to do so. Hopefully a second chapter will be available in a week or so.

He moved into a new house and found an old TV left behind in the attic. It only plays static—until 3:33 AM, when something starts talking back.

Her window was stuck open just a crack. But every night, she swore something was staring in—from the third floor. She lived on the second.

Every night, the same sound. At the same time. The same door. But no one lives in 6 B. Or so they say.

“You best keep away from that thing.” He warned. “He’s not what he used to be, and his hunger is never satisfied. The last thing that you want is that monster staring into your soul. He consumes. He eats, and eats, and eats. Damn thing isn’t human anymore, an encounter with him will leave you a shell of a man.”

Day Four's Writing Prompt: Write about your MCs personal style. To be honest, I had no clue on how to go about this. WARNINGS: Underage drinking, Underage smoking, Death, Suicide, Self Harm, Child Abuse, Blood and Gore. Be careful. Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed and have a good day/night.

Komagane wasn’t a storm. It was grief in divine form. Inside: the recovered dossier of Raiju-no-Kao—an entity wearing thunder like skin and memories like weapons. Read the full classified report from Project ECLIPSE.