The House Where Shadows Sleep
I shouldn’t have come back. The house remembers what I’ve tried to forget. Every creak in the floorboards whispers a name I buried. The walls breathe when I’m not looking. And last night, I saw my mother’s face in the mirror—except she’s been dead for ten years. This isn’t just a homecoming. It’s a reckoning. Something waited for me here, patient and silent. Now that I’ve opened the door, it won’t let me leave.I stood before the iron gates, key trembling in my hand. The house loomed beyond the overgrown path, windows dark like sunken eyes. Ten years gone, and yet the air still smelled the same—damp wood, old roses, and something beneath it, sweet and rotting.
The moment I stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me. Dust swirled in the dim light, settling into shapes too human to ignore. On the staircase, a small figure sat, head tilted. My breath caught. Lillian? But she couldn’t be here. She died in this house.
Then she turned. Her smile had no warmth. 'You promised to play with me forever,' she whispered, voice echoing from every wall. 'Now you’re late.'
Behind me, the front door vanished, replaced by solid wall. Cold seeped through my clothes. Upstairs, a piano began to play—a lullaby Mom used to sing. I knew then: this wasn’t a visit.
It was a recall.
De7nzy
works: 41
The Devil Rejects
I stood at the center of the Black Cathedral, chains of divine light wrapped around my wrists, the scent of burning sulfur thick in the air. They said I was chosen to inherit Hell’s crown—to rule as the new Prince of Sin. But when the infernal pact slithered into my hands, I crushed it. The devil doesn’t want a throne. He wants freedom. And now, both Heaven and Hell are hunting me for defiance.
The Last Stand of Flesh and Bone
I can feel my heart pounding in the silence before the storm. Around me, the living form ragged lines, weapons trembling in sweat-slicked hands. Before us, the dead march—endless, tireless, eyes hollow with stolen fire. This is it. The final reckoning. Not for territory, not for glory, but for the right to *end*. To rest. Or to live. I don’t know which side fate will claim. But I know I have to choose—fight, fall, or try to end it all before the dawn.
GardenOfSinners
I remember the first time I died. It was quiet—too quiet for something so violent. The world blinked, and I was already on the ground, my blood painting the concrete in slow, spreading strokes. But death isn’t the end here. Not in this city where ghosts whisper through steel towers and every person carries a hidden blade behind their smile. I see the cracks in reality. I walk through them. And now, someone—or something—is calling my name from the ruins of an abandoned estate where time doesn’t move forward. I don’t know if I’m the hunter or the prey anymore. But I have to answer. Because silence is worse.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.