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Latest Stories

December 15, 2025
Flash Fiction Michelle Pauls

To RFK, Jr: The Autistic Poet Writes About Pennies

In her bedroom, the young woman walks back and forth, consistently, intently, while eyeing a large ceramic container of pennies nearby. Its purple outer shell is slightly cracked, revealing some unknown material underneath. It is in the center of the room and…
December 15, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murder And Malice

Jay Booth moved through the Pacific Ocean carefully as he covertly crept closer to his prey. His bare feet felt the sand as his hands held two knives. He was a tall, lean, muscular man with short black hair and dark inimical eyes set in a cruel face. His gun…
December 15, 2025
Flash Fiction Abdul Basit

What We Share Matters The Most

Bakhtawar Bibi lives in the village of Paharpur in District Dera Ismail Khan, a place where old traditions still shape daily life. The village is surrounded by fields, and people know each other very well. The society has long been male dominated, and even…
December 15, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Murdered And Framed

The first time I met Dana at the bar I had no idea I would end up killing her and framing my buddy for it. Life is funny. The night we met, my buddy, Rod, was flirting with Dana because she was a pretty brunette with big blue eyes and a fine figure. Dana’s…
December 08, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

The Angel Who Never Returned

Aslam was taken to the city hospital after he fell off from the road down into the riverbed almost thirty feet below. All of his family members rushed to the river, but before they could reach, a pure gentle soul stopped his jeep, jumped into the water, and…
December 08, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Tom Kropp

New Nemesis

Grimly I faced the immense, sphere-shaped, steel sealed doorway of the multi-dimensional cyberspace portal, wondering what joker put the sign on it: "Abandon all hope to all ye who enter here." "I hate Mondays," I grunted, shrugging my shoulders to make the…
December 08, 2025
Fantasy Stories Tom Kropp

Temerity

Quinshale the sorcerer smiled at the Zergon tree that loomed over the forest clearing. Its trunk was broader than a dozen barrels, and its limbs reached high into the azure sky. Its foliage was a kaleidoscope of iridescent colors. Its limbs eerily arched…
December 08, 2025
Flash Fiction Abdul Basit

When Understanding Sat Between Us

People from Dera Ismail Khan often grow up with more than one language around them. My own childhood was full of soft sounds of Saraiki spoken in homes and bazaars. Our people wear shalwar kameez with pride, enjoy hot chai at any hour and are known for their…
December 08, 2025
Science Fiction Stories Tom Kropp

Adolo

Captain Adolo was a tall, terrifying, warrior woman. Her athletic figure was all solid, lean muscle, crisscrossed by battle scars. Her eyes were a pale blue set in an attractive face marred by scars, including a wicked one through her left eyebrow and cheek.…
December 08, 2025
Horror Stories Alizah Zaidi

The Case Of The Missing Time Capsule

When the letter arrived, postmarked from my old town, I almost didn’t open it. Fifteen years had passed since I last set foot in Ridgegrove, and that distance had softened memories I spent years trying to bury. But the moment I saw the school’s crest stamped…
December 08, 2025
Romance Stories Syed Zeeshan Raza Zaidi

The Chenab's Embrace

The river was the pulse of Gujrat, and for Sohni, its ceaseless murmur was the only constant companion to the fire that raged in her father's kiln. She was the daughter of a master potter, a creature born of river silt and ancient clay, her hands delicate yet…
December 08, 2025
Poetry Markus J

6 Days Of An Aussie Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, my aussie love gave to me a koala in a gum tree On the second day of Christmas, my aussie love gave to me Two swimming platypuses, and a koala in a gum tree On the third day of Christmas, my aussie love gave to me Three jumping…

On the outskirts of Madras, the city where I live in Southern India, it is said that there once lived a famous knife thrower. I don’t know how many of you know what knife throwing is all about for now it is a dead art and you rarely find knife throwers except in a few stray circuses.

For the benefit of the uninitiated let me explain what knife throwing was all about. The knife thrower was usually a man who could throw his knife blind folded with deadly accuracy. Normally, the knife thrower would have a partner; usually a female who would be strapped on to a rotating wheel and the knife thrower who normally was blind folded would hurl his knives from a distance of about fifty metres or so at the rotating wheel. While the knives would land on the circumference of the wheel with precision and accuracy they would appear to just miss the hands and feet of the woman tied to the wheel, while a collective gasp of anxiety would go up from the assembled gathering with every miss of the knife.

It was such a knife thrower that I am now referring to. The knife thrower and his paramour who also was his female partner in his knife throwing act, lived on the outskirts of Madras and frequently toured other parts of the country to display their skills and make a living out of it. It is said that the knife thrower during one of his tours had by mistake thrown the knife at the heart of his paramour and killed her on the spot. It was also rumored by a few people that the knife thrower had begun to doubt the fidelity of his paramour and had therefore deliberately thrown the knife at her heart and had killed her.

Whatever, the case may be it is said that the grief stricken knife thrower took to the bottle in a huge way to overcome his grief. It is said that in his inebriated state he turned into a dacoit and began looting the passer bys who traveled on the high way near which he lived. It is also further said that the knife thrower turned dacoit amassed a huge fortune and one day in a fit of drunken frenzy stabbed fifty knives into his heart and killed himself in remorse for his lost paramour.

While this incident had taken place nearly a hundred years ago, many of my friends who used to travel on this high way regularly have informed me that while traveling in the middle of the night on a particular stretch of the highway they come across an apparition of the knife thrower turned dacoit who appeared before them with a knife dripping with blood and staring into their eyes demanded, “Shall I throw?”, with the arm holding the knife outstretched as if in preparedness to throw the knife at them. Needless to say that all my dear friends who witnessed this apparition and faced its threatening gesture ran away in fear before the knife thrower could kill them.

News of this midnight apparition spread far and wide and people started avoiding that stretch of the highway at midnight and rather took a detour while traveling. However, there was another friend of mine who did not believe in God or Ghosts and having heard of all this decided to go and meet the apparition of the knife thrower at midnight on a new moon day.

The apparition appeared to this non believer just as it had to all the others and threatened him as well. My non believing friend assumed that it was all a prank being carried out by some mischievous elements and boldly challenged the apparition, “Throw if you wish. I am prepared.” The moment my non believing friend said this, the knife throwing apparition dropped its knife and picked up a huge wooden chest and threw it by the feet of my non believing friend.

My friend was surprised to find that the chest contained rubies, diamonds, emeralds, pearls and many other precious stones and gold coins as well as ornaments. The apparition then peacefully looked at my friend and said, “Thank you, for accepting what I threw at you; for this treasure is what I had looted from all the innocent people who passed by this highway and I was destined to escape my bondage as an apparition only if a living human being accepted the treasure from me. Thanks to you, I can now go and live in the spirit world with my dear paramour,” having said this, the apparition vanished and never again reappeared on that stretch of the highway.

My dear non believer friend is now a rich believer. He is greatly into charity and social service as well as the renaissance of religion. All my other friends who ran away from the apparition now curse themselves for not having had the guts to face the apparition and accepting its challenge.

Author’s Bio - sketch: Suri Ben Noah (1959 - Present) is a creative writer based in Chennai, Tamil Nadu, India who has been writing since the age of 12.  Suri had a rather colourful childhood and believes that these experiences have helped him understand the true nature of life.

Suri Ben Noah’s stories are the expression of a person who truly cares for the people of today, especially the youth. Suri also occasionally blogs, writes poems and essays on his own brand of philosophy. Suri's interests also include meditation, philosophy and understanding Truth, graphology, physiognomy & other alternative sciences.

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