16 stories
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Oscar Wilde-
1.5K
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157 parts
A creeping fog of decadence clings to the shadowed streets where Wilde’s verses bleed into reality. Within these pages, London is not a city... -
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J. Sheridan Le Fanu-
1.2K
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125 parts
Dust motes dance in perpetual twilight within these pages, mirroring the spectral lives clinging to the shadowed corners of Ireland’s decayi... -
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George Bernard Shaw-
969
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59 parts
A fog-choked London breathes down the neck of a man possessed by intellect—not passion, not virtue, but the cold, calculating logic of a god... -
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J. Sheridan Le Fanu-
958
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66 parts
A creeping dread clings to the ancient manor of Wyvernshaven, where shadows stretch long from crumbling battlements and the scent of brine m... -
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Lord Dunsany-
827
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53 parts
Dust motes dance in the perpetual twilight of these fifty-one stories, each a chipped fragment of a forgotten god’s dream. They are not tal... -
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J. Sheridan Le Fanu-
776
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66 parts
Dust motes dance in the perpetual twilight of a decaying manor, shadowed by ancient yews and choked by creeping ivy. A young woman, orphane... -
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J. Sheridan Le Fanu-
491
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29 parts
A creeping dread clings to the ancient Irish manor of Dr. Norbury, a dread born not of spectral hauntings, but of a suffocating, inherited d... -
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Oscar Wilde-
434
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22 parts
A creeping dread clings to these tales, born of London fog and shadowed drawing rooms. Savile, a man betrothed to the angelic Lady Emily, di... -
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J. M. Synge-
345
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12 parts
The peat bogs breathe through these pages, clinging to the bone-white limbs of skeletal trees. A twilight lingers over the fragments of Syng... -
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James Joyce-
287
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16 parts
A suffocating greyscale descends upon the streets of Dublin, clinging to the damp brick and echoing in the hollow doorways. Each story, a ch... -
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James Joyce-
210
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8 parts
Dublin breathes in shadow and rain, a city steeped in the scent of decay and damp wool. This is not a tale of grand horrors, but of a suffoc... -
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Oscar Wilde-
204
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10 parts
Dust motes dance in the perpetual twilight of these tales, each a miniature mausoleum of lost innocence. A creeping chill clings to the vel... -
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Oscar Wilde-
162
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7 parts
A fog of gilded deceit clings to the drawing rooms and manicured gardens where the shadows of London society dance. Beneath a veneer of wit ... -
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James Joyce-
139
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6 parts
A creeping dread clings to the Irish coastline, mirroring the slow rot within the exiled characters’ souls. This is not a tale of grand adve... -