Stories (419)
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The First Legacy: Devourer of Souls
There are places where the night lingers longer than it should, where the shadows seem to have their own pulse, their own hunger. Deep within the ancient forest of The Queens Crossing, the trees themselves seem to bend, recoiling from the earth as if to escape something far older and far darker than the mere creatures of the woods. For within the belly of this forsaken land lies a secret—a darkness that predates time itself.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Fiction
The Swarm
It started as a breeze, a restless stir that whispered through the trees surrounding Black Hollow. No one thought much of it at first. Winds came with the season. But by the second day, the breeze had turned into a gale, and by the third, it had become a relentless force that clawed at every house, every soul in its path. The air was alive with an unnatural power, shrieking through the streets, forcing its way into homes with cold, violent fingers.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Fiction
The Demon in First Class
Flight 217 took off like any other—a late-night flight from New York to Los Angeles. The first-class cabin buzzed with quiet conversation, the rich and privileged lounging in plush leather seats, sipping champagne as they ascended into the night. But beneath the luxury, something sinister lurked, and soon, no one would be safe.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Fiction
Lucifer's Lantern
The wind howled like a chorus of the damned as Jaclyn stood at The Queens Crossing. The infamous place, cloaked in superstition and dread, had long been abandoned by the living. They said the crossroads had witnessed horrors so profound that the earth itself wept beneath the moonlight.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Horror
The Surface Beneath
In the cursed town of Fairhaven, the fog was a living entity, thick and suffocating, swallowing the light and leaving behind a creeping dread. Lila Hart, a psychologist with a shattered past, arrived at an ancient Victorian house that had been converted into an office. Its windows were like hollow eyes, watching her every move, and its creaking floors whispered secrets of sorrow and madness.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Fiction
Shadow Creek
Shadow Creek was never meant to be found. Nestled deep in the woods beyond Applegate Estates, the air itself seemed to bend and twist, the trees crooked and wrong, as if recoiling from something vile hidden deep within. The locals knew better than to venture near it, especially after sunset, when the mist came rolling in like the breath of a thousand forgotten souls. Even the animals wouldn’t drink from the water, and the birds stopped singing near the trees that bordered its black depths. But Jaclyn wasn’t one for superstition. She didn’t believe in old wives’ tales or cursed places. That’s what she told herself, anyway.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Horror
The Death Fog (Caigo)
In the mountains of northern Italy, the village of San Bartolo lay hidden beneath a heavy shroud of mist. Every October, the fog would come—cold, dense, and unnatural. It wasn't the kind of mist that just rolled in from the mountains. No, this fog carried something dark with it. Something ancient. The villagers knew it as "La Nebbia della Morte."
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Horror
