Darkprose Stories

Sister :D

"There is no one-not two, not three-To grab my ankles, stop the spree. I ran along derailing trains;I saw a man's invading pains. I stood where no one dared to pass-In that forgotten moldy class."

Every night, he stands trial in a courtroom built from his guilt. Each accuser? Someone he once hurt. Each verdict? A stain on his waking life. Aleks Sarin has always avoided hard questions-about who he is, what he's done, and who he's become. But when his dreams turn into surreal courtrooms run by the shadows of his past, reality begins to unravel. The only way out may be to confess the truth he never dared to face.

Envy doesn't always want what you have. Sometimes, it just wants peace. These stories don't scream. They whisper. They sit quietly in your chest and breathe hurt into the silence. If you've ever been broken, you'll recognize the pieces.

A writer stares at a blank page. Her hands don't move. Her thoughts scream. The voices say she's useless. She climbs anyway. This is not about writing. It's about surviving yourself.

This book is a collection of moments caught in the strange glow between thought and reality. Each piece begins with a shift in air, a scene laid out like a stage before anyone walks onto it. The narrator studies these situations the way some people study wounds: slowly, carefully, and with a private logic that refuses to walk in a straight line. Inside these pages you'll find monologues that wander through the quiet corridors of a mind that never learned the approved version of reasoning, and dialogues that spark between characters who feel like shadows meeting under odd streetlights. Every scene stands alone, yet each carries the same pulse, the same crooked heartbeat that tries to make sense of a world that rarely explains itself. This isn't a traditional story. It is a map of thoughts that bend, break, reform, and sometimes contradict themselves. A set of episodes where emotions, instincts, memory, and raw perspective collide. A journal of the unsaid. A voice trying to decode life by inventing its own rules as it goes. For readers who love honesty without polish, logic without permission, and moments that bite harder because they refuse to be softened, this book opens its doors. Step in. Listen closely. Nothing here fits neatly into place, but everything here follows its own kind of truth.

Among apples too red to be real

Whispers you weren't meant to hear. Realities you weren't supposed to question. In this anthology of dark psychological sci-fi, each story is a fracture - a glimpse through the cracks of the mind, where identity, time, and truth slip and bleed. Here, nothing is linear. Characters speak to themselves, to you, and sometimes... to something far older. Voices echo from behind mirrors, behind doors that shouldn't exist, behind versions of yourself that never should've been. Every page is a trapdoor. Every sentence, a test. And if you're reading this... You've already been heard.

A psychiatric prison. A narrator whose mind is unraveling. And whispers in the dark that no one else seems to hear... Echoes: Part One pulls you into a claustrophobic world where reality fractures, memories bleed, and nothing , not even your own thoughts , can be trusted. This is just the first chapter of the haunting psychological thriller that's already finding its way onto bookshelves and digital libraries worldwide. Read the full novel now on: Smashwords Barnes & Noble Apple Books Kobo cloudLibrary Baker & Taylor Hoopla Tolino Gardners Fable Palace Marketplace Everand BorrowBox Odilo Vivlio OverDrive ISBN: 9798231658299 If you enjoy this chapter, please vote, comment, and share. Every reaction helps more readers discover Echoes.

With a cold, indifferent embrace, the world met the revenant clawing from its grave. Hero or anti-hero - it is for you, dear reader, to decide. Struggling to comprehend the vast emptiness before it, the creature sets out on a desperate quest: to find itself, to find the meaning of life. Misunderstanding, fear, and excruciating torment - both physical and mental - follow its every step. At last, it becomes another victim of disillusionment, the same flavor people impose upon one another. "Sweet Coffin" is a Gothic tale of identity, alienation, faith, and rebirth. If you are ready to wander through poetically woven prose and confront the fears of human nature, then step closer. Let the moon shine your path clearly.

Some houses hold memories. Others hold something worse. There's a ticking in the walls. A shadow behind the silence. A name that tastes different when spoken aloud. In the stillness of ordinary routines, something is slipping. A hand twitches. A thought lingers too long. A morning becomes a reckoning. Told from the fractured mind of someone no longer sure who they are-or what they've done-A Masterpiece of Endings is a portrait of unraveling, where memory becomes weapon.

This is a short story I wrote based on The Way Up to Heaven by Roald Dahl, it is from the point of view of Mr. Foster and both stories can exist at the same time in the same universe- only one flaw/incoherence : Mrs' Foster's bedroom is in his story in the 2nd floor, in mine in the 3rd (because of an implied reference) It is written, but flawed, I hope I will get to rework on it (won't happen) so as to polish my phrases, my syntax, my dreadful spelling (spelling mistakes will be present I am sure) and coma placement... The rhythm of the language is not what i sought but oh well.. I'll be perpetually dissatisfied.. If you have any questions feel free to ask (such as why I chose and threaded certain words (most of them have been chosen for implicit meaning such as the thistle-color as the thistle flower was used to spoil milk and make cheese (at least by my fam) or why certain references or what i meant by certain phrases idkk..) btw - if you're interested in the analysis of his style feel free to ask, i got a 27 page version and a 6 page version of an analysis of his style (i tried to make my writing a bit more academical even though it was a struggle) and i take quotes and snips from about 22 of his short stories. Hope you have fun reading

Bukan kisah cinta. Ini catatan klinis tentang jiwa yang jatuh cinta pada lukanya sendiri. Tentang ilusi penyembuhan, hubungan yang candu, dan doa-doa yang tak pernah benar-benar sembuh. Sebuah otopsi psikologis atas cinta yang seharusnya berakhir, tapi tetap hidup di kepala.

somewhere in the crevices of my bones lies my cobwebbed, hollow hopes. - a poetry collection

𝑯𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒍𝒚. 𝑺𝒐 𝒊 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒊 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍.