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Write a story where a character's true identity or self is revealed.

Posted in Dramatic on Aug 15, 2025

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✍️ 22 stories

The Veil Lifted

Submitted to Contest #316

The Veil Lifted Floating along the cobbled main street, I hover outside the Black Bull, where once I entertained punters with ghostly tales. My behaviour was the subject of endless discussion, but my friends knew the truth. Others were more than happy to indulge in conjecture or false reports. Biographies of my sisters only made matters worse — they rarely did me justice. More often than not, I was cast as the villain of the piece, a disreputable figure incapable of fulfilling his artistic dreams and bringing shame to his family. Yet it didn...

16 likes

The Kindest One

Joaquin Pires Diz

Submitted to Contest #316

Warning: Explores mature emotional themes. The olive oil sputtered as it struck the pan. Alex leapt back slightly, chuckling at themselves. Jordan, already chopping onions at unnerving speed, didn’t bother to look up.“You always forget that it does that,” said Jordan, beaming.“Refuse to learn,” Alex replied, reaching for the wooden spoon.The kitchen had the scent of roasted garlic, rosemary, and a citrusy scent Jordan had zested up earlier without saying a word. Speakers installed above the refrigerator were playing an old Etta James album, ...

7 likes

Out of the Shadows

Sophie Goldstein

Submitted to Contest #316

“Never show them what you are. Never. Do you understand me?” she asks, her grip tight around my shoulders. She’s squeezing so hard that it hurts, but I can’t tell her that. I can’t tell her because I don’t know how she’ll react. I don’t recognize this woman. This woman with wide eyes staring at me, pleading with me to agree, to promise that I’ll keep silent.I’m scared of her.For the first time, I’m scared of my mother.“Never, Daniela. Never. No matter how hard it is, never show them. Tell me that you understand what I’m telling you,” she whi...

6 likes

Inheritance

William Mode

Submitted to Contest #316

Adam’s MoraleAdam Morale was a good man. He woke up every day in his countryside home, washed, kissed his wife, and worked the land to provide for his family. Always consistent with his duties, overwhelming in his affections, and present for his four sons. A husband twice over in devotion, a father unyielding in care, and a man whose righteousness seemed unshakable.His life, to anyone who knew him, was near perfect.But even perfection doesn’t bloom from nothing.Adam was born in New York City, where sidewalks pulsed with life and the streets ...

6 likes

The Ghost

Amalee Bowen

Submitted to Contest #316

The security guard paled when I handed him my ID card. I kept my expression carefully blank, except for a twitch of the eyebrow as he dialed the higher-ups. I didn’t bother trying to listen in on his muttered conversation. I knew what the problem was.My ID card bore no photo and no name. Only my codename. Ghost. Having either would have been pointless anyways. No one had seen my real face in over a decade and I had buried my true name long ago. Even my fingerprints were false. A new set assigned to me every month, impressed into synthetic sk...

5 likes

Hunted

Jessica C. Wheeler

Submitted to Contest #316

The suitcase sprawled open on the faded motel bed like a gaping mouth, its hollow jaws waiting to be fed. She drew in the dusty air, lungs straining against its weight, and flicked her gaze toward the clock. 2:12 AM. She needed to move. Outside, the motel’s VACANCY sign stuttered against the dark, its neon buzz gnawing at the quiet hum of the highway. She swept her eyes across the room one last time, examining every shadowed corner, before she began to pack. First came the clothes—unremarkable and colorless: a sweater, two pairs of jeans, pl...

5 likes

Dad's True Face

S.M. Knight

Submitted to Contest #316

I remember the wind drying my tears as I cried over my ice cream. If I had just been patient and waited for the perfect pitch, we would have won. That’s all I wanted. Well, that’s not true. I just wanted to make Dad proud. He was my hero back then, and I wanted to be just like him. He must have noticed I wasn’t inside with the rest of the team. I remember watching through the front window as he made his way to the door. His coach’s whistle still hanging from his neck and dangling like a silver dot for the I in Giants. He was so big compared ...

5 likes

The Shadow Earth

Len Rely

Submitted to Contest #316

The Shadow Earth hypothesis is the theory that out of an infinite number of parallel Earths, one of them was knocked out of rotation by a cosmic event and now revolves on the far side of the Sun, invisible to us, in some dark place isolated from the rest of the human timeline. Imagine if a version of everyone who has ever lived, everyone you have ever known, was hurled into a place of unrequited darkness and separation from our own species. To this day almost nothing is known about them or their fate except for two unconfirmed aspects that h...

4 likes

Ellen50

Beth Goodwin

Submitted to Contest #316

The picture taking of it all takes forty-five minutes and the result is 114 new images in my phone’s my photo library. Half of these can be selected without a second thought and discarded to the delete folder, where they will sit in digital limbo with 567 other rejects until I do a mass ‘Delete all’. The instant rejects are mostly due to the following culprits: blurriness, squinted eyes, a finger slipping over the camera, lips parted mid-sentence as I suggest another angle. The shortlisting takes a little more time and care. This is where I ...

3 likes

A Life Without Blood

Chris Robertson

Submitted to Contest #316

Champlain had grown to like being a dishwasher. Every dish was different, and every place he washed them was different too. He had made great friends washing dishes at a summer camp near Lake George in Upstate New York. They talked about nothing and laughed at everything. He worked silently at a tavern in Dallas, ages ago, where he had to fetch the water he used from a nearby well. He had found a home at a local vineyard and eatery in the mountains of West Virginia, where he worked year round on two separate occasions. The second time he cam...

3 likes

Above Bay Street

Arick Olson

Submitted to Contest #316

The sign was weathered but legible:Time and AgainAntiques and KeepsakesThis was the place. Jason parked, grabbing his camera bag. For months, he’d hunted these stores—corners of history hiding in plain sight. His editor called it Fading Frames: photos of forgotten rooms paired with scenes of modern life. A small feature, but enough to keep him traveling and paid.Bay Street was promising. He’d marked the harbor, the iron balconies, the ghost signs. A local tip mentioned this shop—and Ms. Vale.He checked his hair in the rearview mirror, then s...

3 likes

Cadaverine

Nina Chyll

Submitted to Contest #316

First came the smell, sickly and heady like fermenting alcohol. But with every step, it grew more rotten. Seb breathed deeply and heard May gasp behind him. She didn’t appear to like the taste of petrol the stench left behind because she pulled her shirt over her mouth and nose. Not such a good sign. Seb sped up lightly.He stopped at the edge of the ditch and began to move branches out of the way. Dwarf trees grew very densely here, roots strangling one another for whatever water gathered in the hole during wetter seasons. Now, in the dry an...

3 likes

The Candle's Last Flame

Karen LENGER

Submitted to Contest #316

The manor had no windows left, only holes like blackened teeth. Wind prowled through them and carried whispers down the corridors, though no one dared live there. And yet, on the eve of Saint’s Vigil, they gathered. Madame Irelle arranged her candles with the patience of a surgeon setting his tools. Each flame bent low as if unwilling to burn, though she coaxed them upright with muttered words. The chalk circle was already drawn—symbols etched on stone that should not have held their shape so long. Ser Aldric watched with arms folded, jaw se...

3 likes

The Reveal

Vi Thanasaur

Submitted to Contest #316

It is official—I am the last human in the US of A. "How would you possibly know that, Carl?" you would ask. You see, I work twelve hours a day as a Senior DevOps, supporting a critically crucial, constantly breaking, poorly designed, and completely undocumented legacy system platform that services all US government agencies, without which our government would supposedly collapse—or so I'm told. Alone. And I've yet to see a single cent of paid overtime that Uncle Sam owes me. For the purposes of catching software bugs and cleaning up their co...

3 likes

Stormy Mood

Les P

Submitted to Contest #316

The weather outside was turning quickly. My girlfriend approached the table across from me. She carried two cups. One hot cappuccino for herself, and an iced matcha latte for me. We usually switched off who would pay for things like this. This round was on her. Outside, I heard thunder in the distance, and through the open cafe windows, smelled the coming rain. She looked visibly uncomfortable. "Hey, are you alright?" "I'm fine. Don't worry about me," she replied. I reached for the latte. Once she gave it to me, I saw her hand was trembling....

3 likes

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