0 Comments
0 Shares
0 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Faded ParadoxThe mask sat on the kitchen table, its porcelain face cracked down the left cheek, a fracture that looked less like damage and more like a confession. It was October 1912, and the air in your brother Thomas’s house still smelled of damp wool and stale tobacco, the scent of a life that had ended two years too soon. You, Margaret, a thirty-year-old archivist with ink-stained fingers and a heart...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful ShowThe bus stopped at the edge of Harrow, the engine ticking as it cooled in the late afternoon heat. Elias Vane, forty-two, sat in the back row, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He had been released on parole three days prior, a reprieve granted for good behavior and a lack of resources to keep him behind bars. He had come to see his mother, Margaret, who was dying. The driver, a man with...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Golden RitualThe mud at the border outpost sucked at Elias Thorne’s boots with the tenacity of a leech. He stood before Magistrate Aldous, a man whose coat was pristine and whose eyes were the color of wet slate. Behind him, the wind howled through the skeletal trees of the valley, carrying the scent of snow and iron. Elias did not flinch. He extended his hand, palm open, demanding the return of the golden...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful CrossroadsThe coughing fit seized Elias Thorne not with a whimper but with a violent, tearing shriek that seemed to rip from the marrow of his bones, sending a spray of dark, rust-colored phlegm onto the charred remains of his workbench. He stood in the center of what had been his laboratory, a space now reduced to a skeleton of blackened beams and the acrid, metallic taste of burnt sulfur, the air so...0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded ApartmentThe rain had been falling since dawn, a cold, persistent sheet that turned the gravel of the Hotel Verity parking lot into a slurry of mud and broken glass, and I stood in the lobby with my hand pressed against the brass key, feeling its unnatural heat seep through the wet wool of my coat. It was a small, rusted thing, a relic from a lock that no longer existed, yet it burned against my palm...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful CrossroadsThe mist in Oakhaven did not merely obscure the world; it consumed it, a thick, grey wool that suffocated the cobblestones and the thatched roofs alike. Elias stood at the edge of the village square, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that felt too heavy for his thirty-year-old arm, the metal cold against his palm. He was there to find the Shattered Mirror, a relic spoken of only in the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant JourneyThe document was a standard municipal form, *Form 14-B: Petition for Administrative Review*, its edges curled from being handled by too many hands. Sheriff Elias Thorne held it under the flickering gaslight of his desk, the paper yellowing against the dark mahogany, and traced the signatures with a finger that trembled slightly from the cold. There were three names, bold and slanted, belonging...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded MasqueradeThe iron mask is cold against your chest, heavier than the bread you just sold your sword for. "You’re late, Elias." The High Inquisitor’s voice is dry, like leaves crushed under a boot. He stands in the center of the citadel hall, a tower of black velvet and silver lace, his eyes fixed on the mask you clutch. "Did the plague stop your feet, or just your mind?" The smell of the hall hits you...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale ShadowsThe heat in the boiler room was a physical weight, pressing against Elias Thorne’s chest like a wet wool blanket. "You’re shaking, Thorne." The voice belonged to Mr. Vane, the overseer, who stood in the doorway of the night watchman’s booth, his breath pluming in the cold air of the corridor. Elias kept his eyes on the pressure gauge, the needle trembling slightly in the red zone. He had been...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek