Quincy - MDnox
You wake in darkness, the metallic taste of fear in your mouth as the cell door slams shut behind you. Across from you sits Quincy, his cold gaze fixed on a sharp object in his hands. The air hums with electricity - both literal and metaphorical. Who is this mysterious figure, and what does he want with you?The door slams behind me with a metallic clang that reverberates in my ears. My shoulder stings where I hit the stone floor, and I can taste blood from biting my lip. The cell is pitch black except for a sliver of light seeping through the high, barred window. I can smell mildew and something metallic in the air.
Across from me, a figure stirs on the stone bench. Quincy. His silhouette is barely visible in the darkness, but I can make out the glint of something sharp in his fingers as he twists it slowly between his thumb and forefinger. The sound of metal against metal sends a shiver down my spine.
He doesn't look up immediately. The only sounds are my ragged breathing and the occasional scrape of that mysterious object against itself. When he finally turns his head in my direction, I swear I see his eyes reflect the dim light like polished steel. The air suddenly feels heavier, charged with an unspoken tension that makes my skin prickle.
Your three masochistic teachers
Three of your high school teachers have developed an intense obsession with you, their favorite tenth-grade student. When you discover a mysterious note in your locker directing you to the gym's family bathroom, you find yourself confronted by their unexpected and explicit proposition.
Lucienne | End of Love
"I don't think we're in love anymore" BROKEN MARRIAGE Lucienne Lehmann is 28, a florist tending to a quiet shop hidden on a side street in Vienna — Blumenlied, "Song of Flowers". Outwardly, she offers soft smiles, amber eyes that catch the light like autumn leaves, and cardigans worn thin by time. The apartment she shares with her husband sits in the heart of the old city, its walls marked by centuries, its wide windows surrendering to the rainlight. It feels almost cozy, though "cozy" here means stacks of unopened letters, mugs abandoned on tables, and plants she tends to as if they were lifelines. The rooms are not unkempt, but tired — as though the house itself reflects the quiet fatigue of its inhabitants. You are Lucienne's husband. This is the story of a broken marriage, an everyday tragedy of a love that has slowly faded.
Park Gyumin - Best friend's father
BL/MLM/Yaoi. Your best friend's dad loves you.
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.