Faded Ink Novels & Stories

Now that's a promise I'm willing to keep. ~The End~

We begin swaying to the music as we keep glancing at each other. I have found my happiness and piece of mind even after a lot of struggles. Looking into Gabriel's eyes, I just know it that this is just the beginning of something bigger. I am happy to announce that FADED is a paid story on goodnovel with over 3K views. It honestly means a lit to me as a young writer. I urge you to continue supporting me by reading my other works on my profile. I will be dropping the synopsis and cover in some time. There is still a lot to discover for Lyka and so, don't miss out on book two which I will perhaps be dropping next year.

At the top it read, in faded ink: FEMALE INFANT – STATUS: MISSING / PRESUMED DECEASED. Below that, the writing blurred into scorch marks. My throat closed. I pressed my fingertips lightly to the burned section, heart hammering. The mark under my skin flared—not bright enough to show, but enough to send tingles out through my hand. Heat seeped from my fingers into the page. Letters stirred. Blackened edges lightened, lines filling in where there had been only ruin. For a heartbeat, the burnt area smoothed like wet ink. Words surfaced in ghostly silver:

Not wood. Ink. Thick, black, glossy ink welled up from the crack, bubbling like tar brought to a slow boil. It surged higher, spreading out, swallowing stray pages with soft, hungry sounds. The words on those pages dissolved the instant they touched the surface, letters unraveling into nothing. The crack widened, running under my grave marker, around the base of the coffin, spider‑webbing outward in crooked veins. Ink rose like quicksand around the book‑coffin and the scattered manuscript pages, lapping at the laptop’s edge, at the wine bottle’s bottom, at the notebooks’ bent corners

“When you’re ready.” Ginna looked at the two papers. She picked up Tanya’s first. Held it in both hands. Max’s light got a little brighter—the compass reacting—and then, as Ginna started the dissolution, it changed. Not the sharp flare from before. Something softer, spreading out into the room like light you could almost feel more than see. The paper in her hands started to fade. Not burn or tear. Just… disappear. The ink lifted away first, then the paper itself, until there was nothing left between her fingers.

Past the ghost stitch. Deeper. There was a smudge near the hem. Almost nothing. But as she adjusted the contrast, the faintest outline of another word surfaced beneath the ink. Written in faded gray pencil, near the base of the sketch. She read it aloud under her breath. “Look again.” And she did.

I asked the empty room. My gaze drifted to the back of the photograph. There was writing there. It was very faint. So faint that at first, I thought it was just dirt. I sat up quickly and moved closer to the window. The sunlight was stronger there. I turned the photo over and squinted. There were letters....or what used to be letters. The ink had faded badly. Some parts were completely gone. Others were only shadows. I traced them lightly with my finger. “This could be… an L,” I murmured.

Amelia reached for it again. The ink had changed. Not all of it. The first line remained the same, neat and formal. But beneath the final sentence, where there had been blank space before, new words were appearing. Slowly. One letter at a time. She stopped breathing. Additional instructions will be provided as needed. The line shimmered, then faded. In its place, darker words formed, the ink sinking into the page as if written from beneath the surface. Pack only what you can carry. Amelia’s pulse beat hard once in her throat.

"How did you do this? What exactly is that reaction?" I simply smirked, tilting my head back to meet his intense, golden gaze. "It is a basic botanical reduction reaction, Alpha Blackwood. The sap of this specific leaf remains entirely neutral against cured, historic ink that has sat and dried for days. However, it violently reacts with active, unevaporated moisture. The fact that this text just turned a vivid purple proves a definitive, irrefutable chemical truth... this specific ink was brewed, handled, and written within the last twenty-four hours."

By the end, he lay collapsed on the floor, his body covered in grotesque red markings. I looked down at him, my tone calm and detached. "Oh, I forgot to mention. This tattoo ink is specially made. It won't fade. It'll stay with you for the rest of your life." I tilted my head slightly, almost amused. "I was just joking around with you, Mr. Payne… You're not upset, are you?"