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From Heaven to Hell

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Growing up, there was a stark difference between my siblings and me, as they were always getting into trouble at both home and school while I was praised by almost everyone as an angel. This drew a rift between us as we grew older, and we never made up even after we graduated from school and entered university. As we grew older, our bonds never really recovered; and eventually, one by one, all of us passed away without having talked to one another. It was something I regretted after death, for once I rose to heaven, I was the only one from my family there. Not even my parents or grandparents were in heaven; I was surprised. According to heaven, they were all in hell… I asked them why everyone was down there, and they said that my parents and grandparents were no better than my siblings when they were young; they were troublemakers and never prayed, so they never belonged in heaven. I couldn’t believe how strict their policies were. I asked heaven if they could make an exception to at l...
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Enduring Through Time

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Mom always used to tell me stories of how the sea between our homeland and our neighbouring invaders was haunted by vengeful souls that could not rest. No one ever dared to set sail at night, for that was the time everyone believed the souls would rise to sink ships and drag any living being to the unseen depths. Even our invaders believed it and only sent in their legions during the day. If the legends were true, like Mom and so many others believed, I wished there was a way to raise the spirits from the abyss and set them loose on our enemies, for this was not a war—it was a genocide. They sought to destroy us entirely, and we had not the numbers or resources to hold them off for long. It would only be a matter of time before the worst came to pass… No help came from many of our powerful neighbours; only those who faced similar situations like us backed us in our fight for survival. But even they were running low on resources and had their own battles to fight; it was a situation tha...
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A Witch's Balance

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There was this strange clothes shop in our town that both manufactured and sold products within the town alone. What was strange about it was that no one who ever sought employment there ever resigned, no matter how many years passed. Young and old, it did not matter, for every employee seemed bound to the shop by an unseen force. The shop had a separate building for employees to stay, and they said that all their needs were met without any issues. The townspeople claimed that the shop owner was a witch, and that she was somehow enslaving those whom she saw fit to work for her. I myself felt a strange connection to the store, deep in my heart; it was something inexplicable. I just knew I needed to look into it, although I did not know why. My parents warned me against it, and when my brother once caught me trying to enter the premises at the age of sixteen, I was sent off to my grandparents’ house two towns away. There was something strange about the day they sent me away. A cryptic me...
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The Ancients' Seal

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I remember fondly how my parents used to tuck me into bed and tell me all their adventures in the deep seas. The rare creatures they’d find, the ancient ruins they’d stumble across—those were tales I treasured each day. I dreamt of setting sail across the oceans and delving into its mysterious depths, but those ambitions were crushed by the currents that crashed into my life when I was just eight years old. My parents were found washed ashore; they had lost their lives with no visible signs of a cause of death. Ten years have passed since that day, and I’ve taken up archaeology in hopes of investigating my parents’ deaths. After their passing, my grandparents took me in, and Grandma in particular had a tale of warning for me: she said she was once part of a team of mountain explorers who stumbled upon a mysterious metal jar. Words of an ancient language were engraved into the object, which seemed to be near impossible to destroy—something that would prove to be fatal to almost everyone...
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Fated Loss

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For as long as we’ve lived here on top of this hill, only one other house stood nearby; and it stood still in time, abandoned and alone for the thirteen years I’ve been alive. Whenever I’d ask Mom and Dad about it, they would simply say it had been that way for as long as they could remember. Their responses were often rushed, and dismissive of further inquiry. My experience questioning neighbours about the strange house was similarly strange, although they seemed more afraid than reluctant. “Stay away from that place… Especially you. That house is bewitched.” That is the most I got from Anna, the oldest lady in our neighbourhood. Her statement made me wonder just what had happened there. “Why me especially?” I wished Mom and Dad would open up to me about it, but they dodged my questions each time. One night, I stared away into the distance, looking at that abandoned house for perhaps an hour, when, suddenly, I noticed a light illuminate a room on the upper floor. It wasn’t something I...
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The Mirror's Gaze

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Collecting antiques was my passion. From a young age, I was enthralled by the furniture and trinkets my grandparents showed me. These priceless items were much older than them, passed down from their grandparents and so on. My grandparents were the ones who took care of me after my parents were murdered one night when I was six. The suspect was never found, but it was believed that they were witnesses to a murder that occurred that same night, not far from where they were found—which was later revealed to be the work of a serial killer who had claimed the lives of seven others in five months. That case ran cold, and none of the victims received the justice they deserved in death. And their families, we all suffered an emptiness that would never truly heal. An even deeper void lingered within me when the last two members of my family passed away within the same week, but I was at least glad to find out that I’d have their antiques with me to remember them by. A year later, I quit my job...
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Void Eternal

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I had been babysitting my nieces and nephews since I was seven years old, and now, almost a decade later, it was a part-time job I enjoyed. My favourite kid to babysit was Misha, a six-year-old girl about two hours from our house. Misha was the sweetest and most well-behaved child I had ever looked after, and it was especially amusing to see her reassure me every night that all the monsters around us were being taken care of by her parents. “They’re getting rid of all the bad ones,” she said. “So, does that mean there are good monsters out there, too?” “Yes, Mommy and Daddy say there are some that are just mischievous,” Misha said. “Just, promise me you won’t go into the basement.” “The basement?” My brows furrowed. “Yes, that’s where they locked up one that they couldn’t take care of last week. She’s awful, they say—the kind that controls your mind.” Curiosity was gnawing away at the back of my mind. Misha always seemed to have a wild imagination, but these details were too specific. ...
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