Welcome to my Saga

       Yasmine knew that the old brass key that was hidden in the flowerpot was not meant for her, but being a young, curious mind can lead you into places that your sound mind wouldn't dare let you walk into. Yasmine put the key into the door, and as she turned it, it made a soft clicking sound as she let herself in. When Yasmine walked into the ballroom, the dust curled through the air like a ghost of past music.      Yasmine stepped onto the old ballroom floor, which creaked softly under her feet, and in the center of the room sat a violin that had aged centuries. A cold wind pressed against her back, and then soft music started to play as the shadows formed into shapes of dancers. They moved in rhythm, faceless and somewhat graceful in a creepy way. "Dance with us," a soft voice uttered. The voice was like silk.      The music played softly in the background as Yasmine's feet started to move without a thought, pulling her...

            In the little town of Foxridge, there was a young man named Daniel whom the neighbors always knew to be helpful and who smiled a lot, making sure that everyone was happy and taken care of around the area. He never caused trouble until the day he decided to turn his hobby into something criminal. Daniel was popular, but his secret fascination with keys and locks stemmed from a desire to uncover the mysteries and secrets that people kept locked away.    One Monday evening, during a quiet game of basketball with his friend, Daniel decided to share something interesting. Moving closer, he uttered, "If someone builds a door, it's because they are hiding something." With that cryptic remark, Daniel took another shot at the goal and walked home. As the sun set, the usual rhythm of Foxridge gently carried Daniel back to his house.    Daniel reached home, went into his room, and locked his door without a word. His mother stood ...

                                                  Chat Short Story Chat Log: Two friends log into their own chat log channel to discuss an antique music box that has been passed down through generations. They say that the box is cursed and carries the souls of every family member who has passed on, but one rule is to never engage with the box because you can be tricked into giving your soul away to the evil Gin that lives within the walls of the box.  Anna: Hey, did you ever learn more about the music box your mother left you? Jake: Uh, not really... My mom told me she got it from her mother, so it has been in the family for a long time. I find it very creepy, though.  Anna: Really? What makes it creepy? Jake: The box sits on my dresser untouched, and around 3 AM, it will start playing a lullaby.  Anna:  Wow! Really? ...

       With family and other obligations of survival, her bright pages turned black. The writer of horror and true crime always loved her words hitting the page and sharing her thoughts, but as of late, the only mystery she solved was lurking sleepless nights due to chronic pain and planning kids' games, and with that, her notebooks were collecting dust, and her voice went silent.  Silence does not last forever.      In the corner of her room, the old pages and books sat patiently waiting for new words to be written. One morning, when she awoke, she saw some words on a page that she did not remember writing, but she thought nothing of it. The days have been nothing but jumbled together, so maybe she wrote them herself and doesn't remember.       There were chilling accounts of crimes and horror that she never researched herself that mirrored recent news. The victims mentioned were ones that she had never even heard of… until sh...