Vera N

“The Man Who Never Left” by Vera N

Sandy had always been a creature of habit. Her Saturday mornings were sacred—a quiet ritual that kept her grounded. She would wake up before the world stirred, make herself a steaming cup of dark coffee, the kind that wrapped around her senses like a warm embrace. Then, she would settle into her favorite armchair by the window, the soft glow of dawn spilling in, casting long shadows across the room. Her world was filled with the gentle hum of jazz, the soothing notes of Miles Davis or Chet Baker weaving through the air, wrapping her in a bla...

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“Whispers of the Alps: A Christmas Renewal” by Vera N

Submitted to Contest #283

Sophia stepped off the train and into the crisp December air of Cortina d’Ampezzo, a picturesque town nestled in the Italian Alps. The Dolomite peaks towered above, their jagged edges softened by a fresh blanket of snow. Her breath formed small clouds that dissolved into the endless expanse of pristine white. The station was quaint, with stone walls and a roof dusted in powder, blending seamlessly into the alpine surroundings. This was her first Christmas since the life she once knew had been turned upside down, and the quiet isolation of Co...

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“Bringing the Dawn” by Vera N

In the beginning, there was only mist. For generations, the people of Nebra had adapted to their veiled world. The sky above was a swirling gray haze, and the ground beneath their feet was covered with soft, spongy moss that drank in the ever-present moisture. Life thrived in the shrouds of mist; glowing flora illuminated the dim surroundings, and the people had evolved to see by the faint phosphorescence of their environment, navigating by instinct, sound, and the diffuse light of their foggy home.Among the Nebran people was a curious young...

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“Echoes of Mistakes, Murmurs of Hope” by Vera N

The morning air was crisp as Evelyn stepped off the train in the sleepy town of Eldermere. The station, a quaint relic of another era, smelled of old wood and the faint tang of diesel. She tightened her grip on the single suitcase she had brought with her—all that remained of her old life.Evelyn wasn’t sure what had drawn her to Eldermere. Perhaps it was the anonymity of the place, tucked away in the valley and surrounded by thick forests. Or perhaps it was the promise of a fresh start, untainted by the mistakes she had left behind.Mistakes....

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“The Sopron Pursuit” by Vera N

Submitted to Contest #282

The sun dipped low over the vineyards of western Hungary, casting long shadows across the rolling hills. In the small town of Sopron, nestled near the Austrian border, time seemed to flow more slowly. That was, until the quiet of the evening was shattered by the sound of screeching tires.Eszter Nagy, a former military intelligence officer turned private investigator, slammed the brakes of her sturdy Jeep as a figure darted onto the cobblestone street. Heart pounding, she stepped out to find a young man sprawled in the road, clutching a leath...

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“Songbird and Troubadour” by Vera N

Submitted to Contest #277

The warm tones of Elvis’s guitar blended seamlessly with Alannah’s soaring voice, their combined artistry enchanting the small café crowd every Saturday night. The duo had been a fixture at Maison de Lune for nearly three years, their music a tapestry of emotion that drew in regulars and newcomers alike.For Alannah, those nights were an escape, a chance to lose herself in the power of her voice and the magic of their music. For Elvis, they were a reminder of why he had fallen in love with the craft in the first place—the quiet camaraderie, t...

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“The Echo Of Lost Moments” by Vera N

The sea whispered secrets against the jagged rocks as Nia stood on the cliff’s edge, her hair whipping around her face like a wild, untamed flame. The salty breeze stung her eyes, but it wasn't the wind that blurred her vision; it was the tears. The horizon stretched endlessly before her, painted in hues of gold and crimson as the sun slowly sank into the ocean’s embrace. She knew this place too well—the old lighthouse at Sable Point, where she and Luka had spent countless summer days, dreaming of futures that now seemed like distant stars. ...

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“Fangs and False Smiles” by Vera N

I remember the taste of blood. That’s how I’ll begin because it’s what you want to hear, isn’t it? The blood, the carnage, the hunt. You think you know me, the Big Bad Wolf, the beast that haunts the dreams of children and prowls the darkest corners of the forest. But let me tell you a different tale—one that doesn’t end with a hunter’s axe in my back or a belly full of stones. No, my story is much darker than that, and it begins long before a little girl in a red cloak came skipping through the woods. Do you know what it's like to be born a...

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“The Wicked Ticking” by Vera N

In the quaint village of Everspring, tucked between emerald hills and a flowing river, lived an old clockmaker named Eldric. His shop, “Timeless Treasures,” was the heart of the town, a place where time seemed to pause whenever one stepped inside. The air was always scented with the tang of brass and the subtle sweetness of cedarwood, the ticking of countless clocks forming a soothing symphony. Eldric was a man of peculiar habits. He had a long, gaunt face with a silver beard that hung like a waterfall, and his eyes, a steely blue, sparkled ...

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“An Evening Of Stars and Surprises” by Vera N

Vera and Alex had been dating for nearly four months, and while they were certainly enjoying each other's company, their dates had started to fall into a comfortable routine—dinners at cozy restaurants, quiet nights binge-watching shows on Vera’s couch, or long walks through the same park they both knew by heart. The comfort was nice, but lately, both of them had been feeling a subtle itch for something different, something more adventurous. They just hadn’t quite figured out how to say it to each other. So when Alex sent a text on a lazy Sa...

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“The Cat That Knows” by Vera N

Submitted to Contest #275

Under a bruised sky, where the last gasps of daylight smeared the horizon in shades of indigo and blood-orange, Talia Meyers found herself wandering a desolate cobblestone street in a forgotten quarter of the city. The evening was thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth mingled with a sharp tang, metallic and strange, like the lingering trace of something ancient and electric in the air. She couldn’t recall how she’d ended up here, only that she’d been chasing the ghost of something—a shadow, a whisper—just beyond her reach. And that’s whe...

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“The Last Embrace Of Midnight” by Vera N

As Márton and Evelyn ran, the echo of their footsteps grew louder, each beat transforming into a strange, relentless rhythm that seemed to match the ticking of the clock above. The sound was more than just an echo—it was as though the station itself had begun to pulse in time with them, a heartbeat of a creature lying in wait. Shadows pooled in the corners, stretching like dark, inky tendrils, and the walls around them twisted and warped, as though reality itself were fraying at the edges. They reached the end of the platform, both breathles...

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“The Eyes That Never Close” by Vera N

Submitted to Contest #275

The haunting began the night Magda’s father died in a derelict hospital overlooking the fog-draped coast of Whitby. It was early October, and the biting winds off the North Sea swept through the town with an unnatural chill. Magda sat beside his bed as he took his last rattling breath, her hand cold in his weakening grip. “He’s coming,” her father whispered, his sunken eyes wide with terror. “Who, Papa?” she asked, leaning in to catch his final words. “He’s… watching. He never leaves,” he murmured, his gaze flickering to the darkened window ...

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“Eliza's Secret Guardian” by Vera N

There was something in Eliza’s garden. At first, she thought it was her imagination. Shadows, sounds—those could all be explained by the wind or the creaking of the old boards in the house. But for months now, something had kept her awake, pulling her to the window to look out over the small, wild patch of greenery behind her cottage. Then, one night in early autumn, Eliza saw it. She was curled up in her armchair with a cup of tea, her book lying forgotten in her lap, when she felt it—a sensation like a whisper above her heart, a pull to lo...

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“The Pooka's Warm Hearth” by Vera N

The night Pooky arrived in Rosewood, he slipped down through a shivering breeze that rattled the late autumn leaves on the edge of the little town. None of the lights were on at Number 12 Sprig Lane. And that suited Pooky just fine. Pooky—a small, wild creature from the oldest myths, known for his mischief and secret tricks—was tiny and white with large, liquid-black eyes and rabbit-like ears that seemed to bounce with every movement. He sniffed the air with a small nose that wriggled adorably, and his whiskers, sharp and silver like spider ...

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