Marionette's Wake
- LECTURAS 55
- Votos 2
- Partes 7
In the ruins of the Marionette Theater, Ash hangs between memory and motion. Their limbs bend too smoothly. Their thoughts echo like rehearsed lines. They were never born-they were assembled. And now, the strings are starting to tighten.
After inheriting the decaying theater from a mother they barely knew, Ash returns to Gravenhurst expecting dust and silence. Instead, they find a stage that remembers. Whispers drift from behind the velvet curtain. Shadows twitch in the wings. And the marionettes backstage look eerily familiar.
Ash begins to unravel the truth: they are not just haunted by the past-they are part of it. Crafted for a role they never chose, trapped in a performance that never ends, Ash must decide whether to follow the script... or cut the strings.
Todos los derechos reservados
#805
haunted
Únete a la comunidad narrativa más grandeObtén recomendaciones personalizadas de historias, guarda tus favoritas en tu biblioteca, y comenta y vota para hacer crecer tu comunidad.
Quizás también te guste
Bound by Midnight
Ava was forged in fire and broken by memory. As the last living Flamekeeper, she was meant to guard the seal that once held a forgotten king. But when destiny cracks the boundaries of her past, Ava is forced to confront more than ancient power - she must face the echoes of the girl she tried to forget. Haunted by a magical copy born from grief, Ava walks a path through sacred ruins, shadowed temples, and truths buried beneath silence. Beside her stands the Circle - misfits turned warriors, warriors turned healers - who remind her that leadership isn't about strength, but memory. But when the line between Ava and her echo begins to blur, the world teeters on the edge of rebirth or ruin. To save it, Ava must unseal not only old magic, but her own heart. Because fire alone cannot protect a world. Only remembering who you are can.Concluida
Threadmother
Every firstborn girl receives the doll. Every mother lies about it. Every daughter remembers in the end. When seven-year-old Elise receives a hand-carved doll stitched with red thread and human hair, her mother Calla dismisses it as an unsettling but harmless heirloom - a strange family tradition passed down from an estranged grandmother. The doll, nicknamed Threadmother, becomes Elise's closest companion, whispering secrets no child should know and guiding her hands to draw things that should not be remembered. But as Elise's behavior shifts from innocent mimicry to something darker and ancient, Calla begins to experience impossible memories of her own childhood. Memories involving the same doll. The same whispers. The same red thread. Desperate to protect her daughter from a fate she herself narrowly escaped, Calla digs into the family's buried history - uncovering a blood pact forged generations ago, binding their bloodline to a restless spirit who feeds on the innocence of girls. The doll is not cursed. It is promised. And the price has come due again. As the Threadmother tightens her grip, Calla must choose: break the bond and face the wrath of what lies beneath - or become the next woman to pass the curse along with a smile and a gift-wrapped box.
In the Moonlight
A girl in a white veil, the forest calls her to itself. She will be lost in it forever. A quiet voice, a whisper leads his bride far away. Somewhere there stands an old castle, a cursed prince dwells within its walls. When the full moon rises in the night sky, the monster awakens. The white veil of the bride turns crimson. A story as old as time. Nereyeny ran towards the forest as if her life was at stake. She hesitated for a moment before crossing the line of no return. She looked back at the place where she had grown up, lived, and was supposed to die and lie in the ground there forever. All her life layed there, everything except the one thing she longed for the most. Freedom. "Nereyeny!" They were already looking for her. She couldn't afford to hesitate any longer. She turned on her heel and stepped into the darkness. She knew that no one would dare to chase her there. Only a fool. People were afraid of the cursed forest. Eyes watching your every step. Whispers leading you into the void. Creatures from the depths of hell itself. They say dark forces dwell there, no one who goes in will ever come out. And Nereyeny was proof that it was all a lie, spending almost every day there, running under the treetops like a wild wolf. She didn't believe those tales. About the full moon. About the proud prince. About the curse. Until she too became one of those lost in its bowels. Trapped in the same trap as Prince Astreus, son of the Sun and the Moon. A proud prince, real, made of flesh and blood, who is not at all like she has heard of him. At least the fairy tales are wrong about one thing. And maybe they are wrong about everything. Secrets, pride, the whims of the gods, and maybe even fate itself. A burnt-out faith in breaking the curse. Nereyeny must now find a way out before the next full moon comes and the monster finds her.Concluida
Tongue Tied ↬ Edward Cullen.
She arrived in Forks like a whisper, no words, and no sound, just the soft defiance in her eyes and the echo of storms in her silence. Marcie was born deaf and has never spoken a word, but she has always been painfully aware. Her world is built of glances, vibrations, the way people's mouths move when they think she's not watching. Edward Cullen has heard everything; thoughts, lies, secrets but never silence. When Marcie enters the school, her mind is quiet in a way that doesn't merely block him; it absorbs him. Her thoughts are a closed door he cannot open, and in that silence, he finds something he never knew he longed for: peace. She did not flinch from him. She did not fear the hollow behind his golden eyes. She only watched, and in watching, she understood. What began as a curiosity became a hunger, for closeness, for the touch of understanding, for the quiet she wore like a veil. And Edward, who had been alive for a hundred silent years, found himself aching not for her voice, but for the space she held in his silence. The way she made the stillness feel like music. But Marcie carried her own ghosts, unsaid, unheard, yet deeply known. And there is power in silence, especially when the world forgets to fear it. There is love in it, too. In a town always clouded by rain, two impossible souls find one another in the space where sound cannot reach .. And where silence, finally, is seen.
Once Upon a Fairytale
Avoid looking into those golden eyes. One look is enough and you will be lost forever. Once upon a time, beyond the forests and mountains, where the leaves always wore the color of autumn, a girl with great talent grew up, with her mother and father. One day, however, their happiness was stolen by tragedy. Her mother fell ill and death called her to the other side. Nothing was the same anymore. Her father remarried. And in the end, time took him away too. Iris was left alone with her stepmother and stepsister. They made her a maid, a slave. A prisoner of a life she hated. But something deep inside her prevented her from leaving the house she grew up in - her home. There, as a child, she created all the miracles with her mother and wanted to continue doing so, to give joy to those less fortunate. Like when she made a dress for the butcher's wife, whom her husband no longer loved, that made her irresistible to him again. Or when she made a shirt for her best friend Jace that was supposed to protect him from the edge of swords, since he liked to provoke the royal guards. Her little secret. But one day, her peaceful life decides to take a completely different direction and everything goes wrong. She meets a prince. She helps her stepsister win him for herself. And ancient family secrets get involved when a demon she is magically bonded with appears. A long-hidden story begins to unfold before her, revealing the truth about her mother, her ancient ancestors, and herself. And it all started with her simply taking off the necklace she should never have taken off.Concluida
The Forgotten nameless and the elf princess
Long ago, the Void claimed a soul of humankind, stripping away their name, their history, their face. All memory of them faded from the world, save for the chorus of whispers the Void left behind. Thus they became The Nameless Whispered One - forgotten, yet forever haunted. But though the Void unmade them, it also left them tools. The Nameless moved like a shadow across stone, their steps forgotten as soon as they were made. Doors barred to others opened at their touch, for no lock remembered to resist them. Their daggers struck unseen, their enemies already fallen before their names could be spoken. Where others saw a curse, the Nameless carried silence as a blade. Yet even shadows need an anchor. In the halls of the evergreen court lived a princess, ageless as the trees from which her crown was carved. Her memory was unbroken, her gaze unshaken. Where all others forgot the Nameless moments after meeting them, the princess remembered. Always. She walked beside them when no one else could. She stayed their hand when the whispers urged blood. She gave them a place in her story, when they had none of their own. The people feared her choice. They whispered that she risked her throne and her immortal line by binding herself to a soul touched by the Void. But still she kept the Nameless at her side - the forgotten blade and the eternal princess. Together they became a legend: one lost, one unyielding. The Nameless slipped through shadows, unseen and unremembered, while the princess stood radiant, the only one who could call them back from the abyss. And so the tale is told: when a shadow passes silently through the forest and no one recalls its shape, it is the Nameless at work. And when you see a lone princess walking the moonlit woods, know she is not alone - for her memory is the one chain the Void itself could not break.
𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: harry potter
"𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑬𝑵𝑫 𝑼𝑺..." "𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝑳𝑬𝑻 𝑰𝑻 𝑩𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑰𝑭𝑼𝑳 𝑶𝑭 𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺." She was born of a bargain, stitched from starlight and ruin, the last gift of a dying son to a goddess who loved thresholds more than mercy. 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 entered the world with silver eyes that remembered every grave, golden hair that shimmered like a crown too heavy for any child, and a silence that unsettled even the house that raised her. The Blacks bred tempests, and she was a storm disguised as grace. Though long before her first breath, the constellations had written her fate. They named her for dawn yet clothed her in dusk, promising her to the boy who bore lightning in his scar. 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑-child of prophecy, boy marked by fate for death, the lamb to be slaughter and sacrificed. They found each other in corridors steeped in omen, their eyes meeting as if they had done so for centuries. His sorrow recognized her fury; her tenderness understood his ruin. Their love was not a choice but an inheritance, whispered by the heavens, sealed in the marrow of their bones. The world stood against them. As bloodlines demanded obedience, gods demanded payment, destiny demanded separation. Yet together they moved toward each other as planets do, colliding though they knew it would shatter the sky. Their love was no sanctuary. It was a doom both holy and profane, a sacrament carved into the stars with the same hand that wrote death.
The Town That Watched Her
Evelyn Cross, 26, has never felt alone-not truly. Even in her quiet apartment, even with the doors locked, even when the lights are off, she feels it. The gaze. The thing that waits behind her mirror. Watching. Since childhood, Evelyn has suffered recurring nightmares: she's running barefoot through an endless town of broken houses and hollow-eyed mannequins. Something always chases her. No matter how fast she runs, she never escapes. She never sees its face-only the feeling that it knows her better than anyone else ever has. After her estranged father's sudden disappearance, Evelyn is called to Greywick, an abandoned town he was obsessed with investigating before he vanished. The town was evacuated decades ago after a fire gutted most of it-but there are no records of survivors, no one who remembers the evacuation. It was as if Greywick simply... stopped existing. Determined to understand what happened to her father-and maybe herself-Evelyn returns to Greywick with only a recorder, a flashlight, and her fading sanity. But Greywick remembers her.Concluida
Ava was forged in fire and broken by memory. As the last living Flamekeeper, she was meant to guard the seal that once held a forgotten king. But when destiny cracks the boundaries of her past, Ava is forced to confront more than ancient power - she must face the echoes of the girl she tried to forget. Haunted by a magical copy born from grief, Ava walks a path through sacred ruins, shadowed temples, and truths buried beneath silence. Beside her stands the Circle - misfits turned warriors, warriors turned healers - who remind her that leadership isn't about strength, but memory. But when the line between Ava and her echo begins to blur, the world teeters on the edge of rebirth or ruin. To save it, Ava must unseal not only old magic, but her own heart. Because fire alone cannot protect a world. Only remembering who you are can.
Más detallesPautas de Contenido