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Most recently published stories on Vocal.
The Man in Seat 23. AI-Generated.
The man in Seat 23 boarded the plane after everyone else. I noticed him immediately. Not because he looked unusual—he didn’t. In fact, he looked completely ordinary. Dark jacket, small travel bag, calm expression. But something about the way he walked down the aisle felt… wrong. Almost like he already knew everyone on the plane. It was a late-night flight from Chicago to Boston, the kind where most passengers try to sleep through the journey. The cabin lights were dim, and the quiet hum of the engines filled the silence. I was seated in 22A, by the window. Seat 23A, directly behind me, had been empty when boarding started. I remember clearly because I had leaned my seat back slightly, enjoying the extra space. But now the man was there. And he was watching me. I could feel it. You know that strange feeling when someone’s eyes are fixed on you? That uncomfortable awareness crawling across your skin. I tried to ignore it. The plane began taxiing down the runway, the engines growing louder as we prepared for takeoff. Outside the window, the runway lights streaked across the darkness like glowing lines. Then my phone buzzed. I glanced down. One new message. Unknown number. The text read: “Don’t look back.” A chill ran down my spine. Slowly, I turned my phone over and locked the screen. I told myself it was nothing. Probably a spam message. But then my phone buzzed again. Another message. “He’s sitting right behind you.” My heart began pounding. I forced myself not to turn around. The plane lifted into the air, pressing me back into my seat as the city lights shrank below us. Another buzz. I hesitated before opening the message. “Seat 23.” My throat went dry. I finally turned slightly, pretending to stretch. The man behind me was staring directly at me. His eyes didn’t move. Not even when I caught him watching. I quickly faced forward again. This was ridiculous. Just a coincidence. Maybe someone on the plane was messing with me. But another message appeared. “He knows what you did.” My stomach twisted. What did that mean? The cabin lights dimmed further as the flight attendants began preparing for the overnight portion of the flight. Passengers settled into their seats. Someone a few rows ahead started snoring. Everything felt strangely normal. Except for the man behind me. And the messages. My phone buzzed again. “Do you remember Boston?” A memory flashed through my mind. Three years ago. A rainy night. A narrow street. Headlights. And a moment I had spent years trying to forget. My breathing became shallow. I typed a reply before I could stop myself. “Who is this?” For a moment, nothing happened. Then the reply came. “Turn around.” I slowly turned. The man in Seat 23 was still staring at me. But now he was smiling. Not a friendly smile. A knowing one. He leaned forward slightly. “You remember me now, don’t you?” he said quietly. His voice was calm. Too calm. “I think you have the wrong person,” I said quickly. The man tilted his head. “No,” he replied. “I don’t.” My phone buzzed again. But this time, the message wasn’t from the unknown number. It was from my airline app. Seat Change Notification. Confused, I opened it. My seat had been changed. From 22A to 23A. I frowned. That didn’t make sense. I looked back at the man. “You’re in my seat,” I said. He smiled again. “No,” he said softly. “You are.” Suddenly the cabin lights flickered. Just for a moment. But when they came back on… Seat 23 was empty. The man was gone. I looked around quickly. No one seemed to notice anything strange. Passengers were sleeping. Reading. Watching movies. My heart raced as I stood up. “Excuse me,” I said to the flight attendant nearby. “The man sitting behind me—where did he go?” She looked confused. “What man?” “The passenger in seat 23.” She checked her tablet. Then frowned. “There’s no passenger assigned to seat 23,” she said. “That’s impossible,” I said quickly. “He was just there.” She shook her head. “You’re the only person assigned to row 22 and 23.” My chest tightened. “What?” She turned the screen toward me. Seat 22A — Me Seat 23A — Me “That must be a system error,” she said casually. “But there was someone sitting there,” I insisted. The flight attendant looked slightly concerned now. “Sir… you boarded last,” she said. “You were the only passenger in this section.” My mind spun. That wasn’t possible. I had seen him. Spoken to him. Then my phone buzzed again. A final message from the unknown number. I opened it slowly. The text read: “You can’t run from yourself.” And suddenly… I remembered. Boston. Three years ago. The rain. The street. The man I hit with my car. The man I left behind. I never told anyone. Never reported it. I told myself it had been too dark. Too fast. Too late. But now I understood. Seat 23 was never another passenger. It was me. The part of me that had been sitting behind my conscience for three years. Watching. Waiting. And reminding me that some passengers… Never leave the flight.
By Baseer Shaheen 24 days ago in Fiction
The Signal From Tomorrow. AI-Generated.
The signal arrived at 2:46 AM. Dr. Adrian Cole had been staring at the monitors for hours inside the silent control room of the Orion Deep Space Observatory. Most nights were uneventful—just endless waves of cosmic noise drifting through space.
By Baseer Shaheen 24 days ago in Horror
Why Your TikTok DMs Aren't Private (And Why the Platform Says That's a Good Thing)
Introduction: The Privacy Paradox In the current landscape of digital communication, end-to-end encryption (E2EE) has moved from a niche privacy feature to a baseline consumer expectation. Silicon Valley giants are largely in a race to lock down user data, ensuring that not even the platforms themselves can peer into private conversations. Yet, TikTok—the world’s most scrutinized social media app—is pointedly marching in the opposite direction.
By Tech Horizons24 days ago in Futurism
I Wired ChatGPT Into My Daily Workflow
How automating “just a few tasks” with AI exposed the uncomfortable truth about knowledge work I wired ChatGPT into my daily workflow to save time on emails, documentation, and research. Within a month, I realized something unsettling: if I could design my job so that an AI could do 60–80% of it, what exactly was I being paid for?
By abualyaanart24 days ago in Futurism
What Is the Difference Between Amusement and Art?
Human beings constantly produce objects, images, sounds and stories that attract attention and provoke reaction. Some of these experiences are described as amusement or entertainment, while others are called art. The distinction between the two has long occupied philosophers, critics and creators, yet the boundary remains uncertain. Both can delight, disturb, inspire or exhaust the human senses. Both are built from the same physical materials: pigment on canvas, vibrating air in music, words on a page, or moving light on a screen. The difference therefore cannot lie in the material itself. The same paint can form a masterpiece or a decorative poster; the same sequence of sounds can be a symphony or a jingle. The difference emerges from how humans use and experience these objects.
By Peter Ayolov24 days ago in Critique
Through Every Storm, I Chose You
The first time I saw Lina, it was raining. Not the gentle kind of rain that people enjoy while holding coffee in a café. It was the kind that came with heavy clouds and cold winds, the kind that made people run for shelter. But Lina stood under a bus stop roof, laughing as the rain splashed around her shoes.
By Truth words 24 days ago in Lifehack
Imperishable . Winner in Everyone Is Acting Normally Challenge.
“Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed— in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.” 1 Corinthians 15: 51-52
By Hannah Moore24 days ago in Fiction
I Automated Too Much With AI
The surprising truth about what you lose when your “dream” side project runs on autopilot without you. I didn’t realize I’d automated myself out of my own life until my side project stopped asking for my attention—and I kind of hated it.
By abualyaanart24 days ago in Futurism
