Psychological

Tower in the Mountains
Steam danced around the surface of the hot dark liquid residing in Igor's mug. He had placed it upon the heavy wooden table in the center of the room a moment early to let it cool while he stared out through a pair of binoculars, across the cold rocky landscape around him. The large man sat in the top floor of an old tower nearly seventy feet in the air, but he still felt uneasy every time he peered outside.
By Brier9 days ago in Fiction
L'unico: Part 2
The doctor handed Jade a prescription and wished him good luck before letting him go. As Jade exited the hospital, he found his mother waiting outside with an unfamiliar woman. "Hello Mom, hello Madame," Jade greeted them. Faty, his mother, asked how the appointment went and then introduced the woman standing beside her. "Jade, this is Madame Hayley, and she's a psychic," she announced. Taken aback, Jade
By el hariti adil9 days ago in Fiction
Oleksandr und Mavrin
In those accursed days when the sky itself seemed to have turned Russian and was spitting iron on the black earth of Donbas, Oleksandr marched with the rest of his platoon like a man already half-dead. The war had eaten everything gentle in him. Only the memory of Andriy still burned--Andriy with his quick laugh, his crooked front tooth, the way he used to press his cold nose into Oleksandr's neck at night and whisper, "We'll live through this, Sashko. We'll go to Lviv and open a stupid little café and forget all this blood."
By ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR9 days ago in Fiction
Pinned
Sweat gathers at the small of your back. You writhe uncomfortably, trying to find the perfect sleeping position that doesn't exist. Lifting up the duvet briefly with an outstretched leg, cool air rushes into the swampy cocoon you've created for yourself. It feels nice for a moment, but then the shivers start, so you seal yourself in again.
By Shelby Larsen10 days ago in Fiction
Obey
I put a hand on my face and rub hard against my eyes before rolling halfway over and slapping at the buzzing plastic box perched upon the cheap wooden nightstand beside me. It feels as if sleep took me only hours ago, plunging my mind into a hurricane of brightly colored dreams. The pile of dark blankets and sheets pull off hard as they catch on feet, producing a curse and a thrash followed by a loud grunt as muscles tense and I find myself upright looking out a single small window into the street outside.
By Brier10 days ago in Fiction
My Grandfather Left Me a Wooden Statue, and Now I Hear it Moving at Night
When my Grandfather Elias passed away, he left me his cabin in the Pacific Northwest and a single, life-sized wooden carving he called "The Elderknot."
By The Glitch Archive10 days ago in Fiction
I Didn’t Care to Listen
I lived in the heart of a tourist coastal city, with fabulous beachfronts and wild nightlife entertainment. The weather was always perfect at night and scorching during the day. Local girls always toyed with the idea of meeting a man from out of the country, during his short visit and desire to do everything in that time span.
By Vincent Palmer 10 days ago in Fiction
The Ghostly garden
Every third night of every month, exactly at 10pm, an ethereal ghost, cloaked in spectral energy, floats through the desolate, fog-laden flower garden of the town of Galloway. By day the garden is an ordinary and pleasant place for the town's people to sit and read or just meditate...but by night...scattered amongst the ancient, moss-covered petals - remnants of a long forgotten civilization mysteriously appears from an obscure past life. With it comes a magical and eerie blend of dark fantasy, atmospheric realism and haunting landscapes.
By Antoni De'Leon11 days ago in Fiction
Above the Blood-Red Sky
My dear, snivelling, wretched Robert Montague, Why did you flee by daylight—for “freedom”? Freedom in a straitjacket, behind locked doors? The doctors would have you believe you are safe from the monsters in your mind.
By Paul Stewart11 days ago in Fiction
Whispers in the Fog: A Town That Never Sleeps
The town lay under a velvet fog that never fully lifted, its streets slick with damp and silence. Even the neon of the diner flickered with hesitation, as if unsure it should illuminate the night. The air carried a weight, a subtle hum that tugged at the edges of the mind—a whisper of things best left unspoken.
By Algieba11 days ago in Fiction
Don't wait until I am sick or Dead.
Let me tell you what it actually feels like to be - Living in The Town of Almost-Nice. My name is Harold Finchley, and if you reside in the town of Barnbridge - you may or may not notice that the inhabitants have a rather peculiar habit.
By Novel Allen11 days ago in Fiction
Closing Doors That Were Never Opened
Closing Doors That Were Never Opened She had a way of walking into places that were never hers, as if the world had been waiting for her all along. Doors did not need to be opened for her, she moved like they had already said yes. A smile in the right moment, a softness in her voice, and suddenly she was inside lives that had taken years to build.
By George’s Girl 2026 11 days ago in Fiction