V-Ink Stories
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Welcome to my page where the shadows follow you and nightmares become real, but don't worry they're just stories... right?
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Stories (230)
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Someone Keeps Swiping Right on My Dating Profile
I downloaded the dating app two weeks after Valentine’s Day. Not because I was ready to date again. Mostly because my friends wouldn’t stop telling me to “get back out there.” My last relationship ended badly, and February had been miserable enough already.
By V-Ink Storiesabout an hour ago in Fiction
Destined Harmonies
Chapter 1 The air in RAD’s grand auditorium thrummed with a low, expectant buzz. Polished marble floors reflected the flickering chandeliers above, a constellation of captive fire. The scent of enchanted ink, aged parchment, and a hundred different perfumes mingled with the nervous energy of the new exchange students.
By V-Ink StoriesExclusive • about an hour ago
My Girlfriend Wants My Heart for Valentine’s Day
When my girlfriend first said she wanted my heart forever, I laughed. It was Valentine’s season, and she’d been in that overly romantic mood all week—pink candles, heart-shaped cookies, cheesy love songs playing in the apartment while she cooked dinner.
By V-Ink Storiesabout 2 hours ago in Fiction
The Last Round Before Sunrise
The group had been bar-hopping since early evening. St. Patrick’s Day had turned the whole downtown area into a blur of green shirts, plastic shamrocks, and loud music pouring from every open doorway. By midnight, most of the popular bars were packed shoulder-to-shoulder.
By V-Ink Storiesabout 2 hours ago in Fiction
My Neighbor Celebrates Valentine’s Day Every Night
When I first moved into the apartment building, I thought my neighbor was just lonely. His name was Victor. Mid-thirties, quiet, polite in that distant way some people are when they don’t want conversation to go further than “hello.”
By V-Ink Storiesabout 2 hours ago in Horror
Ch. 10: Seven Demons, One Darling
The music from the ballroom was a distant, throbbing heartbeat. A waltz for devils and angels, diplomats and monsters. I could still feel the phantom pressure of Mammon’s hand on the small of my back, his proprietary grip as he’d paraded me before the assembled lords of the Devildom. His newest treasure, polished and presented. Asmo had flitted around us, adjusting the strap of my gown, a confection of shadow and shimmer he’d commissioned at outrageous cost. “Perfection, darling! You’ll ruin everyone’s night because they can’t have you.”
By V-Ink StoriesExclusive • 14 days ago
Spring Sacrifice
The woods of Hollow Glen were quiet, save for the crunch of dead leaves underfoot. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, and the last rays of sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting long, eerie shadows. The group of teenagers—Ellie, Jake, Sarah, and Ryan—had ventured there on a dare. Rumors of strange happenings in the forest around Easter had been passed down for years, but none of them believed in ghost stories.
By V-Ink Stories16 days ago in Fiction
Eggshells
Margaret Whitlock was known as the best artist in the sleepy town of Greystone. Her specialty was Easter egg sculptures—delicate, intricate creations painted with painstaking detail. Each egg was a marvel, depicting pastoral scenes, mythical creatures, and swirling patterns so fine they seemed almost alive. Every Easter, people from all over flocked to her gallery to admire and buy her work.
By V-Ink Stories16 days ago in Fiction
Ch. 9: Seven Demons, One Darling
The scent of Simeon’s room—vanilla and ozone—clung to my skin like a phantom as I walked the corridors of the House of Lamentation. It felt like a secret, one that the shadows themselves might whisper to the walls. My body was a map of contradicting sensations: the deep, pleasant ache from Simeon’s worship, and the newer, raw thrill from his furious reclamation. My mind was a storm of static. I just needed not to be alone.
By V-Ink StoriesExclusive • 20 days ago
Ch. 8: Seven Demons, One Darling
The coffee at the Devildom café was bitter, thick as tar, and utterly delicious. Simeon stirred a precise amount of honey into his, the spoon clicking softly against the porcelain. Moonlight, a filtered, curious kind that pushed through the perpetual haze, cut across the small table between them, highlighting the faint dust motes that danced in the air.
By V-Ink StoriesExclusive • 20 days ago
The White Hare's Revenge
Tobias Cullen had always been a quiet boy, meek and timid, with wide, innocent eyes that rarely made contact with others. He lived on a small, isolated farm at the edge of the village of Dunsfield, a place where the ground was barren, and the seasons seemed to pass by in slow, cruel cycles. He had been tormented by the villagers for as long as he could remember—called names, pushed into ditches, humiliated at every turn. They called him "the hare," mocking his pale skin and slight frame. Every Easter, when the town came alive with celebration and laughter, Tobias was forgotten. His existence was as invisible to them as the soft whispers of the wind.
By V-Ink Stories27 days ago in Fiction
