Glitch Novels & Stories

Monday - BITCH MOVED IN Tuesday - BITCH HIDES Wednesday - WHORES HERSELF Thursday - SHE DIES I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to say. I have no tears left to cry. I am stricken with a fear I have only felt once before. The fear you only feel when you are in danger. I may not know who this is but it is extremely clear, they want me dead.

DISBELIEF. Inability to accept that something is true or real. Opening his eyes, Dylan couldn’t believe he was back to being admitted to the hospital for an incident he could have avoided. He feels a sharp pain come from his lower abdomen and curses under his breath as he could have avoided the knife if not for missing a step.

A sharp, mocking laugh cracked from Kian's throat, violently diverting my gaze to him, stabbing daggers from the corner of my eyes, “all bark for someone who walked up against 2 on 1 but can't score a single head-to-head.” My amber eyes flared, releasing a faint smoke infused with crushing pressure that filled the air, “Only one way to find out,” dropping my voice to its coldest as another step of mine cracked the marble floor. And in a split second before Raven's reflexes could win over my body, my limbs stiffened, instantly glued on the floor. Then, a glitch struck like lightning.

"Let the world see the real 'Muse' behind the masterpiece." On the screen, Luna was reaching her emotional crescendo, clutching a lace handkerchief to her trembling lips. "I have no money left for lawyers. I’m just a woman fighting a giant—" Suddenly, the screen glitched, a jagged digital tear slicing through Luna’s tearful face. Across the globe, the audio of her sobbing was replaced by a sharp, high-pitched feedback that made millions of viewers wince. Then, a sudden, chilling silence fell over the digital world.

Connection destabilized. The voice was no longer calm, no longer certain—strained. Elara gasped, dropping to her knees inside the construct as the world around her tore itself apart. “You did this—” it said, but the words weren’t absolute anymore. They were fragmented, interrupted. “You were taking me!” she shot back, her voice breaking through the chaos. Integration incomplete— The system glitched, flickered—something critical had broken.

of mechanical senility. The valley was a "Labyrinth" of flickering blue light. Hundreds of derelict relay stations, powered by "Zero-Point" batteries designed to last a century, were misfiring. They were broadcasting "Fragmented Data-Streams"—ghostly advertisements, "Audit" warnings, and "Functional" weather reports for a world that no longer existed. The Geography of the Glitch

"They think they own the 'Code.' But they don't own the **Glitches**." Silas reached into his own chest. He didn't pull out a Pixel. He pulled out a **Shadow**. It was a shard of the "Null-State"—the same black, oily void that the Founder had used to "Delete" things. It was the piece of the universe that refused to be coded, refused to be marketed, and refused to be sold. "Silas, what are you doing?" I asked, a cold dread filling my heart. "I'm going to 'Corrupt' the file," Silas said.

Pain still lingers in my body, but his presence eases something deeper, something unspoken. The system hums faintly, but the sound glitches, crackles, and cuts out again. A headache pulses at the base of my skull, rhythmic, annoying. “System,” I whisper, “run full…” Static slices through my mind like a wire snapping. “No… stable… crash… detected…” Dream notices my wince immediately. “Gloss? What’s wrong?” I open my mouth, but the glitch hits harder this time, like a jolt of electricity behind my eyes. I suck in a breath, gripping Dream’s hand tighter.

Processes it. And… glitches. It tries to purge the data. But it’s too late. The paradox is a virus in its core code. A ghost in the machine. The concept of sacrificing oneself for something else is like a corrosive acid eating at the foundation of its everything. Its attacks on the Cage falter. The beams of logic waver, become incoherent. Its form shudders, contracts.

The tension in the room extinguished, they returned to painting in a companionable silence for a long while each lost in their own thoughts of the other. Then, Howie Day’s Collide started playing over the speakers. Dani’s arm seemed to stop painting of its own accord. This had been one of the songs they had both loved and listened to in the bed of Levi’s truck many times, looking at the stars. The memories flooded her as she listened to the haunting chorus about people making mistakes, falling down but finding the person you are meant to be with anyway. Love conquering all.