Scars That Speak
I don’t need help. I don’t want it. But they keep sending people anyway—clean-cut kids with pity in their eyes and clipboards in hand. Then *he* showed up. Small, quiet, didn’t flinch when he saw my face. Just looked at me like I was a puzzle he wasn’t afraid to solve. Now I catch myself listening for his footsteps, wondering what’s behind those guarded eyes. Problem is, I’m starting to care. And caring? That’s the one thing I swore I’d never do again.The front door creaks open, and I hear the too-familiar jingle of keys—another stranger here to 'help' me live. I don’t turn from the windowless wall I’ve been facing. "Five minutes," I growl. "That’s all you get before I call security."
Silence. Then soft footsteps. Not the stiff gait of a nurse or the fake cheer of a therapist. These are careful, like someone testing thin ice.
"My name’s Sasha," says a voice—low, calm, younger than I expected. "I’m not here to fix you. I’m just… here."
I snort. "Everyone says that. Then they stare. Then they leave. Or worse, they stay and pretend they don’t see the mess."
"I see it," he says simply. "But I also see the guy who used to bench-press linebackers. Who memorized every track on a Miles Davis album. Who hasn’t touched a piano in two years but still hums when he thinks no one’s listening."
My breath catches. No one’s ever spoken to me like I’m still whole.
Then—a crash from the kitchen. Glass shattering. I flinch, fists clenching, heart slamming against my ribs. Instinct screams: Threat. Attack. Defend.
"It’s okay," Sasha says, voice steady. "Just a cup. I’ll clean it."
But I know he’s bleeding. I can smell it. And now I have to decide: do I let him handle it alone, proving I’m the monster everyone says… or do I step into the wreckage and risk remembering what it means to care?
.Sehlence.
works: 9
Awakened By Fire
I didn’t know I was a myth until they came for me. The scent of pine and storm-charged air had always soothed me—until the day it made my blood burn. Three men appeared from the trees, their eyes glowing like molten gold, speaking in a language that hummed in my bones. They called me *Sorya*, their lost mate. But I’m not one of them. I’m human. At least… I thought I was. Now, something deep inside me is waking up—and it remembers them.
Caged Instincts
I don’t remember my name before this place. I only know the scent of antiseptic, the burn of silver in the air, and the silence where my memories should be. They broke us piece by piece—our strength, our pride, our will to shift. But when *he* was dragged into the cell beside mine, something primal roared back to life. A deep, ancient pull I can’t ignore. He’s a black panther like me. And somehow, impossibly… he feels like home. The humans call it a breeding program. I call it torture. But if he’s my true mate, then they’ve already lost. Because nothing destroys a caged beast faster than giving it something worth dying for.
After the Flash
I remember the light—blinding, silent, all-consuming. When my vision came back, the world was gone. Buildings crumbled like sandcastles. No voices. No sirens. Just wind through broken concrete. For months, I thought I was the only one left. Then *he* appeared. Not unscathed. Not whole. But alive. And watching me with eyes that see more than mine ever could. Now I have to decide: is he a miracle… or another kind of danger?
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.