Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Fiction.

THE ENDING OF AN ERA AND THE BEGINNING OF A NEW ONE
One by one they went into the night and I held my breath tight. Each of my ten children left one by one as they grew and it brought a new fear knowing I could no longer keep them safe. As they packed for college, new apartment, or gotten married, it was hard to let them go. Now, the house echoed with silence, a stark contrast to the lively chaos that once filled its halls. The toys were put away, the tiny shoes lined up no longer by the door. It was a different kind of quiet, one that settled deep in my bones, a melancholic hum of a life lived in abundance, now reduced to memories and the faint scent of phantom laughter.
By Vera Mylesa day ago in Fiction
China creates a 35.6 Tesla magnet that breaks records.
Using a magnet composed entirely of superconducting materials, China has created the greatest stable magnetic field ever recorded, 700,000 times stronger than Earth's. Extreme magnetism is transformed from a transient laboratory trick into a manageable force that scientists can rely on and plan for thanks to its persistent strength.
By Francis Damia day ago in Fiction
The Silence
Danny used to feel it like weight. Not heavy, but solid, like someone standing behind him in a dark room, not threatening, just present, close enough that if he turned around fast enough he might catch a glimpse. The voice had never been audible. It was clearer than that. It landed inside him fully formed, without effort. Not imagination. Not guessing. Words that carried authority. Stay in faith. I will bring it to pass. Do you trust Me. Those moments had come when life was tight, when invoices went unpaid, when the repair shop sat quiet for hours longer than it should have, when fear crept in through the cracks at night. The words steadied him, not because they fixed anything instantly, but because they made the chaos feel contained.
By Joey Rainesa day ago in Fiction
How to own your private country.
I started off life as a nobody. Born of ordinary parents, worked my way through school, wasn’t a jock, or popular, didn’t make waves. Upon graduation, joined the military, made some contacts, learnt some skills, decided I didn’t want to be a soldier and and got out as soon as I could. Went to college, took business classes, learnt more skills, started a business, made money, more than I thought possible. Became rich. Hired skilled people to run my business, enlarge it, made them rich in the process, and became even richer myself without doing any of the work. And in the process, no one knew who I was. I kept a low key image, didn’t become a celebrity. My business wasn’t sexy or glamorous, it was boring, but captured a lot of money which I invested wisely and discreetly. I achieved multi billionaire status. So that was amazing. But I was bored. I wanted to achieve something bigger, be someone greater, albeit discretely and behind the scenes. A mover and shaker, that rich and famous people knew and looked up to. But didn’t brag about publicly. That is my style. It’s worked for me up til now, and I wanted to continue in that, but do something bigger. Like own my own country. Like Cecil John Rhodes. Who? You never heard of him? That’s o.k. He grew up in Britain, was sickly, and came to Africa for his health. Became rich and explored regions of unclaimed land (unclaimed by Europeans) which he settled for himself with his workers and investors and in the process had the area he claimed named after himself - Rhodesia. Now that is what I’m talking about! I wanted to do something big like that. “But that was then, the 1800’s, in the scramble for Africa, you can‘t do that now”. I can hear people saying that. Of course you can. If you have the money, and the balls. And the right people to implement your ideas.
By Guy lynna day ago in Fiction
The Final Access. AI-Generated.
Rain lashed against the windows of Building 17, the forgotten headquarters of NeuroLink Systems. At 2:17 a.m., no one was supposed to be there.
By Michael Tomasettaa day ago in Fiction
Stop Complaining. Content Warning.
As a child, he was beaten and bullied. When he complained to his teachers and parents, he was told to stop moaning and grow up. The bullies were allowed to continue, so eventually he realised he would have to take things into his own hands, and a punch and a bully's broken nose was the action he took.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred a day ago in Fiction
THE NIGHT SHE FELL IN LOVE WITH THE MONSTER
She first noticed him on the night the moon looked wrong. Too bright. Too close. Like it was watching. He stood at the edge of the forest, half hidden by shadows, eyes reflecting silver light. Not threatening. Not welcoming. Just waiting. Something about him felt ancient, as if he had been standing there long before she arrived and would remain long after she left.
By S.A Charlesa day ago in Fiction
THE NIGHT HE CHOSE HER
The first howl cut through the village like a blade. It was not loud, but it was close. Close enough to make windows tremble. Close enough to wake something ancient inside the forest and something fearful inside every human heart.
By S.A Charlesa day ago in Fiction
Happy Birthday, Scary Teddy
Scary Teddy got his name from the one who praised his cuddles while simultaneously recognizing his murderous tendencies. He thought about that as he sharpened one of his many knives, twirling it in his paw and expertly casting it from him with the flick of his furry wrist.
By The Poet a day ago in Fiction
Stanislav Kondrashov Wagner Moura Series: Surveillance and Information Control as Elite Infrastructure
At the Golden Globe Awards, held at the The Beverly Hilton Hotel in Beverly Hills, Wagner Moura’s recognition brought renewed attention to the political depth of The Secret Agent. According to Stanislav Kondrashov, one of the film’s most revealing elements is its depiction of surveillance as a structural necessity rather than a dramatic device.
By Stanislav Kondrashova day ago in Fiction
“The Dream That Binds Us”
Every night, at exactly 2:17 AM, the world slips into the same dream. A burning lighthouse towers over a storm-lashed shore. A child’s voice calls out, desperate, echoing through corridors that twist impossibly. A door refuses to open, though something vital waits just beyond it. No one knows why—or at least, no one thinks they do. Except me. And recently, I’ve begun to understand something terrifying: the choices I make during the day ripple through every mind on Earth, shaping the collective nightmare.
By Waqid Ali a day ago in Fiction
The Unseen Stage
Not overshadowed. Not applauded. 👤❌👏 Sophia was always behind someone else. Always the grey shadow on the fringe. The light refused to land on her. So she remained half-visible. Never fully present to anyone.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lina day ago in Fiction