Mina is a small woman with Ivory skin and emerald eyes a princess, Ashton is a tall man with dark features and icy blue eyes a prince and warrior from the east. Mina can barely tolerate Ashton and wants to kill him at every available opportunity. What will She do when fate decides they must work together to survive? A mistake that trades their souls and they must keep the other one alive in order to save themselves. Will they work together or will Mina be guided by her hate for Ashton and find a way to kill him?

this story talks about a group of friends that thought they were prepared for anything takes a big turn into a nightmare #campfirestories

Caleb reaches the Threshold: the bridge itself becomes a locus of light and rupture as boards split and a luminous void yawns beneath him. He confronts Ellery in an underground chamber where spirals pulse across stone and water, and a glowing mark on Caleb’s arm answers with its own rhythm. The scene shifts from investigation to initiation—choices feel irreversible, the town’s quiet fractures into revelation, and Caleb stands at the edge of something that will change him and Fogg forever.

Day 4 deepens the mystery in Fogg as Caleb moves from surface reporting to confronting the town’s hidden patterns. He follows leads, revisits key locations, and forces conversations that reveal more than anyone intended to share. The day pivots on a charged exchange that reframes the lights and spirals as part of a wider, more personal puzzle.

Caleb spends Day 3 following fresh footprints to the creek tunnel: he wades through cold water, finds a half‑submerged entrance framed by twisted roots, and watches faint, spiraling lights rise from the depths. He documents bioluminescent residue, discovers a small metallic device near the threshold, and feels the town’s quiet tighten into something urgent and uncanny as the bridge above hums with distant, rhythmic pulses.

Caleb spends Day 2 digging deeper into Fogg: he interviews wary residents, combs through an antique shop’s secrets, follows fresh footprints to the creek tunnel, and documents strange spiral marks and faint, pulsing lights.

Caleb arrives in Fogg at dusk, a lone traveler drawn to a town of faded signs and quiet motels. He checks into a rundown room, interviews wary locals, and follows whispers about strange lights at Dry Creek Bridge. Small spiral marks and odd patterns begin to appear, turning curiosity into an urgent investigation.

Stan Prolongo thought he was investigating a ghost. He walked into something far older and more dangerous. I should've known better when the gorgeous receptionist vanished into thin air. But sightseeing don't pay the rent, so there I was, Stan Prolongo, private detective, investigating a ghost at the Sciacca Retirement Community. A manager weeping over his dead wife in a broom closet. A receptionist who kept disappearing like smoke. Ten naked seniors with pickleball rackets. That's when I knew this wasn't your typical haunting. Five zones decorated with goddess symbols. Photographs showing the same women, year after year, except their faces kept changing. An old man poked my chest: "You'll never be one of us." By the time I met Mrs. Aphrodite Oshun, beautiful and dangerous with smoke curling around her fingers, it was too late. Blue smoke. Darkness. I woke up in white robes. Surrounded by cultists. Pure of heart, they said. Wrong place, wrong time, and exactly what they needed.

The Glass Horizon She woke up with a new face, a bag of blood money, and a voice in her head that wasn’t her own. After a near-fatal crash on the cliffs of Big Sur, a world-class surgeon discovers her amnesia isn't an accident—it’s a medical reset. Trapped behind surgical bandages and hunted by the "Original" woman she was meant to replace, she must navigate a deadly game of identity and high-tech brainwashing. In a world where memories are programmed and faces are interchangeable, how do you find the truth when your own reflection is a lie? A high-octane psychological thriller about the cost of a clean slate.

Elias Thorne, a meticulous clockmaker living in a fog-drenched river town, finds himself haunted by a woman who appears on the local pier every night at precisely 2:14 AM. When he discovers her likeness in a century-old family ledger, Elias is pulled into a supernatural mystery involving a tragic ancestor and a hidden, gargantuan machine that has trapped a soul in a loop of time. To set things right, he must venture beneath the city's foundations to confront the "Great Clock" and decide whether to keep the past alive or finally let the gears of time move forward.

My first note. Here, I introduce myself and provide a short story inspired by the winter storm occurring along the East Coast (USA).

The life I know I don't want to accept it being lost in the world I thought I was found. Not being seen with who I am and cast aside like trash.

I rewrote an old story from high school. Couldn’t find the original I made. Tried a scary story about my cousin and myself about this one house in her neighborhood. This didn’t really happen but it was fun to write.

random adhd girlie The Last Notification It started with a notification I didn’t remember enabling...

While cleaning out an old box in the attic, the protagonist finds a sealed envelope addressed to them- in their own handwriting, dated exactly ten years in the future. Inside is a single page with five short sentences, each one more unsettling than the last.

Star stood on the bridge, the smoke-choked sky glowing behind her like a warning. The masters’ threat still burned across her cheek, their voices echoing in her skull—Kill Ja’kari or be destroyed. She clenched her fists, feeling the weight of her weapons, the weight of her choices. Below, Posida’s squad vanished beneath the river, the town already screaming under her command. Star breathed in the chaos she created, the fire, the falling world. “Time to come home, baby,” she whispered, not sure if it was love, hate, or the curse pulling her back.

This piece comes from a place of feeling that the fight for normalcy and balance, is a far fetched notion of good humanity ⚰

“…the night I stepped beneath the boughs of the Blackroot Hollow… that was a darkness that stared back.” “Ahead, impossibly far and impossibly near, a single lamp burned… atop a stone stairway half-swallowed by roots.” “Every footstep sank softly, as if the ground itself were breathing, and the trees whispered confessions meant for no living ear.” “Someone—or something—stood behind the door. I could hear its breathing… slow, deep, patient.” “Some lights were not meant to guide us. Some were meant to lure us.”

This story is about a creature that does it's best to please everyone, yet has no one to depend on. Creature is all alone in a world full of people it helps. Trigger warning: !!!!! SUICIDE WARNING MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME VIEWERS !!!!!

Jimmy Hall finally claims his little visitor and wants her to be his, but will she be interested in something like that? Or perhaps she's still playing hard to get?