Stories (419)
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The Last Light on Maple Street
The bulb flickered like it was having second thoughts. I stood under the streetlamp on Maple Street at 11:47 p.m., December 28, 2025, hands shoved deep in coat pockets, breath fogging in the sharp cold. Everyone else had gone inside hours ago — holiday lights dimmed, curtains drawn, the neighborhood folding itself up for another year. Only this one lamp stayed awake, the same one that had been here since before I was born, buzzing faintly like an old man muttering to himself.
By Jason “Jay” Benskin13 days ago in Fiction
The Keeper of the Longest Night
On the winter solstice of December 22, 2025—the longest night of the year—Elara stepped out of her isolated cabin into the biting cold of the northern woods. She had come here to escape the noise of the world: the endless notifications, the glowing screens, the artificial lights that drowned out the stars. For years, she had chased deadlines in a city that never slept, until one day she simply stopped. Now, in this remote corner of the forest, she tended a small garden in summer and read old books by firelight in winter. Solitude was her chosen companion.
By Jason “Jay” Benskin19 days ago in Fiction
The Hum in the Walls
The house was not old by historical standards—built in the booming 1980s, all fake brick and cheap drywall—but there was a kind of tiredness about it, a psychic sag that seemed to pull the light out of the rooms. Arthur Blackwood, a man who believed in tax deductions more than ghosts, had bought the place for a steal after the previous owners, the Harrisons, had simply... vanished. No note, no struggle, just a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the breakfast table and a terrifying, inexplicable silence.
By Jason “Jay” Benskin19 days ago in Horror
Harlan’s Mill
Harlan’s Mill wasn’t much of a town anymore. Back in the seventies, when the paper mill still ran three shifts and the river stank of sulfur and money, it had been something. Folks had jobs, kids played Little League on the field behind the high school, and the diner on Main Street served coffee strong enough to wake the dead. But the mill closed in ‘89, right after the big layoff, and things just… faded. Houses sagged. Stores boarded up. People left if they could, or stayed and drank if they couldn’t.
By Jason “Jay” Benskin28 days ago in Fiction
Chapter 2: The Other Way In
The voice had deceived her. There were multiple ways in. Jaclyn stood rooted to the decaying floorboards, her breath trapped between her lungs and throat. The door lay silent—no knocking, no begging, no threats. Only the lingering memory of her brother’s voice, still curling in the air like smoke.
By Jason “Jay” Benskin3 months ago in Fiction
The Root Cellar
I. The House That Birthed Him Jeffrey Banks didn’t inherit the Harrow house. He returned to it. That’s the truth — though he didn’t understand it yet. The deed came in a letter that wasn’t mailed, simply found one morning on his kitchen table. It smelled like loam and old rain.
By Jason “Jay” Benskin7 months ago in Horror
