In a kingdom where the King declares war on numbers, communicates with pineapples, and maps military strategies on breakfast cereals, young Peabody might be the only sane person left—though that's not saying much when you live in a treehouse held together by duct tape and stubbornness, fifty feet above where the ground used to be before your grandmother accidentally knitted it into a cushion. When the Princess vanishes and the palace descends into weaponised chaos involving backwards bagpipe music, a philosophising baked bean drowning in custard, and a teddy bear whose broken watch hums Andrew Lloyd Webber as a form of prophecy, Peabody is summoned to solve the mystery using his greatest talent: the ability to listen without screaming about root vegetables. What he discovers is far more dangerous than any kidnapping—a clever girl who's had quite enough of the madness, a machine that translates nonsense into sense, and the revolutionary idea that perhaps, just perhaps, a kingdom shouldn't be run like an elaborate joke that's forgotten its punchline.

After a student dies, his classmates build a memorial wall, organise a tribute gig, and perform their grief for an audience. But as the event approaches, some of them begin to ask uncomfortable questions about who they're really doing this for and why no one noticed when it mattered.

A meticulous scholar obsessed with achieving perfection through dark magic has left a trail of disappeared victims across Victorian London. As he prepares his final, most powerful ritual, a rational detective follows an impossible pattern of evidence that challenges everything he believes about reality. When their paths collide, logic confronts the supernatural in a desperate race to stop a man who has discovered that reality itself can be reshaped—at a terrible cost. A psychological dark fantasy where obsession, horror, and investigation intertwine in the shadowy streets of a city hiding ancient secrets.

Lydian, a skilled archivist surviving under a monetised welfare system, struggles to maintain her independence while paying a steep social and magical price. When a city-wide Arcane collapse exposes the failure of the Doctrine of Autonomy, she and a grassroots practitioner, Nara, ignite a Sympathy-based mutual-aid movement that rewrites the city’s rules and replaces shame with shared care.

A quiet meditation on parenting, attachment, and the choreography of care.

A searing, surreal reckoning with performance, trauma, and the blurred line between memory and theatre.

A poetic, satirical journey through London’s soul—told by its overlooked animals. This piece is sharp, lyrical, and quietly devastating.

Follows Peter, a writer in the quiet West Yorkshire town of Crumbleton, whose unfinished characters—including a limping centaur, a fearful winged girl, and a noir detective—begin to materialise and cause chaos.

A dark, near-future story narrated by Rafe’s brother, the keeper of his authentic self. The original Rafe was a sincere storyteller, but the Rafe™ brand became a perfectly crafted projection of his pain.

A legal-retelling of the Three Billy Goats Gruff fairy tale, framed as a courtroom debate.

A psychological retelling of the Gingerbread Man story. The Gingerbread Man runs not just to avoid being eaten, but because the frantic repetition is the only rhythm that keeps him from dissolving.

A poignant short story about Dr. Malcolm Forrester, a recently deceased physics professor, who finds himself in a transitional room between the two titular doors.