Joseph Roy Wright
Bio
Hello there!
My name is Joseph Roy Wright, the British author of over 30 Independent novels!
I like to write about movies, pop culture, fiction and horror! I review all the latest films (and classics), I also like to write short stories.
Stories (216)
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Strange Caller
When investigating the Sinner Killer of New York, Detective Henry Stark got an alarming phone call which nearly ended the whole case: "Hello." Henry answered the phone. "Whose your favourite serial killer?" The strange voice replied. "What? Who is this? Pranking the police is a serious offence!" "I'm the one you've been looking for." "You're... The Sinner Killer?" Henry gasped, rushing to his feet and beckoning other police officers to track down the caller's location. Henry could hear Sinner clapping his hands over the phone line. "When did you get so smart!" The voice laughed. "Why did you do it?" Henry asked. "Well... Why the fuck not?" The Sinner replied. "Because it's evil!" Henry snapped. "So is everyone else in this god forsaken city!" Sinner growled, sounding like some wild, rabid animal, "everyone's a sinner, even you Detective Henry Stark!" "So you think murder is the answer?!" "Yes!" "No." Henry shook his head, growing impatient, his fellow police officers were struggling to find the killer's location, keeping this psycho on the line was going to be difficult, sickeningly; Henry had to entertain the killer's disturbed ideals, "but... Why don't you enlighten me?" Sinner laughed in reply; "ok, Detective... I kill because we live in a world of faithless, sinful, greedy and disgusting people. There are gangsters and pimps. Whores and perverts. They're everywhere, around every street corner and they don't deserve to live." "Why do you say that?" Henry asked, trying not to vomit. "I just told you!" Sinner growled, "you're a bit slow ain't you?" Henry held his breath, trying not to scream in anger, he eyed the other officers, they were still tracking the phone call. "Cat got your tongue?!" Sinner giggled creepily. "I'm speechless!" Henry chuckled weakly, pretending to be impressed. "Now you see my genius!" Sinner replied, his voice sounded happy, as if smiling. "Yes I do." Henry almost gagged, entertaining this freak was torture. One of the cops in Henry's office nodded at the detective, indicating that they had finally found the killer's location. Henry grinned. "You're on smart cookie!" He said to Sinner. "I really appreciate that, Detective. Really I do. Oh yes I do!" "Tell me how you kill them?" Henry asked, as a whole squad of armed police men exited the station, they were heading towards the phone booth now where Sinner was calling from. "You already know that, Detective." Sinner replied, "you've seen my work." "Oh yeah..." Henry forced a laugh, "I like the time you beheaded that prostitute." He lied, and it hurt his soul to even say such a disgusting thing. "Oh did you? That little piece of lust deserved everything that came to her!" Sinner laughed, then came the sounds of police sirens in the background of Sinner's phone call, "well... It was nice talking, Doc. But I gotta go!" "NO WAIT!" Henry cried, but Sinner already hung up and fled. The police couldn't find him, he had disappeared, realising the boys in blue were on their way.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 months ago in Horror
Burning Man
Gregg Hardy always loved bonfire night, the classic British holiday on the fifth of November where Guy Fawkes tried to blow up the houses of parliament and failed miserably, only to be arrested. As part of that tradition, there was an effigy, which was typically a scarecrow or lifesized doll of Guy Fawkes that was lit on a bonfire. It has become a treasured holiday since its Inception in the 1600s that comes only five days after Halloween. In many ways, it is a similar holiday where people even dress up as Guy Fawkes and kids gather around to enjoy the festivities. There are many people who love both holidays equally and Gregg seemed to be one of those people. Unfortunately, there were always a lot of trouble makers knocking around this time of year too. Setting off fireworks in public and pranking people with other dangerous objects, such as sparklers and cheery bombs, etc. On one cold night in 2005, Gregg saw witness to a terrifying prank that went very, very wrong. Deadly wrong. Somebody (likely a teenager) was running around in a mustached Guy Fawkes mask, playing knock and run on hundreds of doors down a busy street in London on the night of Bonfire night. This prankster was leaving all kinds of fiery traps on people's doorsteps. Paper bags set on fire with dog shit in them, lit fireworks that were ready to blow up in the prank victim's face and smashed Molotov cocktails along the hard, concrete ground. The prankster was laughing manically, almost setting these houses on fire. Gregg was watching this scene unfold across the street where the prankster was running down. He didn't dare get involved, as burning alive because of some dumb kid's prank wasn't on his to-do list. However, his neighbour from across the street (who still had his Halloween decorations up, as if asking for trouble) came storming out of his house in a fit of rage that soon turned to panicked screams as the prankster had left five fireworks on his front garden that shot directly at the poor man who was exiting his home. In an instant, Gregg's neighbour was lit up like a Guy Fawkes effigy! The man screamed in agony, as he thrashed around wildly, falling to the floor and rolling around, quickly trying to extinguish the flames that had engulfed him. Gregg could only watch in horror as the horrifying, brutal and tragic death took place. That teenage prankster had already run further down the long street, he was out of sight now, fading into the darkness of night. Soon the fire spread from his neighbour's corpse to his front door, burning it in seconds, as the flames spread further, resulting in a huge house fire. Gregg called for a fire engine on his mobile phone, sirens arrived four minutes later with red flashing lights, glowing brighter than the fireworks that boomed in the black sky around them. Firefighters exited the big red truck and began extinguishing the flames with their hoses. A police car had arrived also, to question Gregg about what he saw. He told the police officer everything he witnessed, then a hunt for the killer in the Guy Fawkes mask was ordered. The police searched all night long, but there were many teenage kids who were running around dressed exactly like that, causing trouble that night. So nobody could charge any of them for a single crime. Perhaps one of those kids was the killer and he had to do community service or something like that, but true justice was not served that night. Gregg wasn't a big fan of bonfire night after that.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 months ago in Horror
Apple Tree Grave
Little Stephen Parker was cycling through the sunny countryside of Maine. He was a young boy, about seven years old, just having fun in the summer sun, a carefree child who didn't know what true horror was or meant quite yet. That was until he came upon an isolated apple tree, it was no taller than he was and it had obviously been planted by somebody from somewhere he'd never truly know. The tree was barely a tree yet, but it was growing up just like Stephen was and at the same height too. The boy named his new tree friend Harold and he would pick tiny apples from the growing tree, which was growing out of a large rectangle patch of short grass beside the much taller grass that surrounded it. The rectangle patch was long like a human coffin, Stephen's own mommy or daddy could lie down inside it and still have room to wiggle their toes. That made little Stephen giggle. He was too young and naive to question what was down there, perhaps the gardener (whoever he or she was) had planted lots and lots of apple seeds, but only one lucky tree got to grow up like Stephen did. This little boy was lonely though and didn't have many friends. "The other kids in school think I'm weird!" He cried to Harold the tree, "they're always picking on me." There would be no reply from the tree, but Stephen was a child with a wild imagination, he'd speak in a strange wooden voice pretending that was the tree. Talking to himself back and forth using his normal voice (as himself) and the silly wooden voice (for Harold the talking tree. "Maybe. You. Should. Take. My. Apples. To. School." Harold (Stephen doing a silly voice) would suggest. "You really think so?!" Replied Stephen (speaking normally). "Yes. Take. My. Apples. To. School." "You think the other kids will finally like me?!" "Yes. The. Other. Kids. Will. Like. That." "Oh goody!" Stephen would exclaim excitedly, "you're my best friend, Harold!" "You. Are. My. Best. Friend. Too!" "Yippee!" Stephen would pick ten different apples and put them in his bicycle's front basket, then joyfully cycle home in the lovely summer sun. "Mom, dad!" He sang, upon climbing off of his bicycle and entering their cozy little farm house. "What is it Stevy?!" His mother would call, running downstairs to hug her son. "Mommy! Mommy! I made a new friend today, mommy!" "Oh really!" His mom wept, she knew little Stephen had been struggling to make friends with the kids in school. "Yes Mommy, his name is Harold, Mommy! Harold!" "Harold?" She questioned the name, that surely wasn't a kid's name, "how old is he dear?" "I don't know, he's an apple tree!" "What?!" "He's an apple tree, mommy! Look!" He showed her one of the tiny green apples he picked from the tree, "I brought it home just for you and the other kids in school too!" "Oh well, that's nice!" Mommy laughed, she was relieved Stephen hadn't been talking to some creepy old man, "I'm sure the other kids in school would love the apples!" "Yippee!" Stephen exclaimed excitedly, running upstairs to tell daddy the good news.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 months ago in Horror
Stench From The Basement
Andy and Juliet Springfield were newly weds and they wanted a brand new, shiny house to start their new and happy life together. They were Americans living in California, so they had lots of sunny, beautiful places to pick from. The couple searched for months and months and months, looking desperately for a good house to settle down into. Yet, most places were far too expensive and the sacrifices they'd have to make simply weren't worth it. As Spring became Summer and Summer became Autumn which soon entered Winter, the choices they had were getting more and more expensive and risky. That was until they stumbled across a deal of a lifetime. They found a beautiful three story house that sat by a creek far away from the rustle and bustle of the city, and deep within the lush, rich and gorgeous American countryside. It was perfect, so why was it so bloody cheap? Andy dared to ask about the humongous elephant in the room and the salesman took a deep long sigh; "the previous family disappeared." He said. "Without a trace?" Andy asked. "Yes." He winced, "but ghost stories don't exist." He smiled weakly, "perhaps they just up and left, in the middle of the night." "Strange." Andy shivered. "I guess you're no longer interested then?" Sighed the salesman. "No!" Juliet interjected, "it's not like the family were murdered." "Definitely not!" The salesman grinned. "How do you know?" Andy asked, suspiciously. "No blood, no bodies. Nothing. They just up and left. The locals like to spread silly ghost stories and won't buy the place-" "Which is why it's so cheap?" Andy interrupted. "Yes." The salesman nodded, "but it's all just lies." "I don't know..." Andy grumbled. "Excuse us!" Juliet apologised, before pulling her husband into a separate room, "we can't afford to keep looking!" She snapped, "we've searched for eleven months now and I'm sick of that apartment in LA and that fucking landlord, ain't you?!" "Yeah bu-" "No buts!" She barked, "so what if the family vanished? People leave without saying a word all the time. Maybe they just... I don't know, won the lottery and fucked off or something. Anything could have happened, that doesn't mean the house is haunted or anything stupid like that!" "All right..." Andy sighed, "it is a good deal." "Yes, it is a good deal!" Juliet cried, "I think we should get it!" "Ok, you're right." He nodded, "we ain't getting anywhere cheaper." Andy shrugged, "I guess this is the spot." "Thanks Andy!" She kissed her lover, "come on, let's tell him the good news!"
By Joseph Roy Wright2 months ago in Horror
Halloween Killer
Halloween is a special time of year, it means free candy and dressing up as your favourite fictional character. It is a holiday especially loved by those who love horror. However, once upon a time in Saint Francis, Milwaukee, there was a murder in the 31st of October unlike anything anyone had ever seen. A strange call was picked up by the police that night, at exactly 9:35pm. There had been a teenage house party that had already gotten out of control, young women were screaming in the background of the telephone call as the caller cried; "oh my god, there's been murder in my house! Somebody dressed in a Halloween mask and blue overalls, looking like something out of a horror film!" "Slow down, remain calm!" The operator breathed, "how many are injured?" "Injured?! Somebody's dead here!" "But nobody else was hurt?" "No!" "Ok... What happened?" "I think it was a guy, it might've been a girl, I don't know! They- they were dressed up head to toe, I couldn't make them out beneath their stupid Halloween costume." "You said they wore a mask, can you describe it to me?" "Ok, ok..." The caller calmed down, but the people in the background still cried and yelled in terror. "It was green, like a glow in the dark hockey mask... I think." "Ok, that's a good start. Is the killer still in the house with you?!" "I- I- I don't know!" The caller screamed. "Ok, lock you and your guests in a secure room. Please tell us your address and no matter what, stay on the line!" "Ok... Ok!" The caller told his address, then said, "everyone follow me, we got to hide someplace safe!" "Where are you all now?" The operator asked after a few minutes. "We're all in my bathroom, I locked the door." "Is the lock good?" "Not really." The caller sighed. "Well don't worry, we've sent two police cruisers to your home address, you must stay on the line but remain quiet until help arrives, do you understand?" "Yes..." The caller whispered, nervously.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 months ago in Horror
Art
New York city, the big apple; it looks like a paradise in all those romantic comedy movies. The reality is, this place is where the devil comes to piss. The streets are rotten with degenerates and filth, drugs are rampant, especially in the Bronx, where I, Henry Stark, always end up investigating. Tonight is no different, there's been another murder, one of many, but this one is particularly sick. Just like the rest of this god forsaken place, where it always rains and the sun never shines. Among the graffiti the body lay, cramped up against a wall, the poor victim's skin was full of cuts depicting triangular shapes all over his body, he was bloody, beaten, naked and slaughtered for all to see. Stripped of his clothes and dignity, a twisted art piece for passersby to gawk at. Disgusting, but believe it or not, I've seen worse! However upon seeing this sad display, even I found myself gagging slightly. The body had rotted by the time we found it, giving off a foul stench I'm unfortunately far too used to. Of course it was up to me to do all the dirty work, as always. I began examining the cuts, they had a red slice in the middle of each triangle, perhaps it was a symbol of the Illuminati. I later came to discover that it was the mark of the so-called artist, the one who had done this terrible murder and proudly, shamelessly projected it to the scared public. Was it to scare the people of New York or inspire them? My job is to solve murders, not evaluate the minds of sick fucks like this psycho. So not even I could tell you what was wrong with them. Not long after, another murder was spotted, this time in Manhattan, it was a female body on this second occasion. She had her corpse snapped in a number of disturbing and unnatural ways, her head and neck had turned towards her back, arms and legs bending to create a triangular shape that stood up like some kind of statue or fucked up art exhibit. The killer had placed this up in the middle of Times Square. Hundreds, if not thousands of people saw it. Most people ran in frantic terror, screaming in the streets, taxis screeched to a halt to avoid the scared stampede of pedestrians. NYPD blocked off the whole area, I came in to investigate the crime scene. The same triangles with red cuts in the middle were all over her naked body, just like with the last victim. Catching the killer was easy after that, there were cameras all over the area who spotted the mad man setting up this dark art. He was a strange looking man, one that had long hair and a mustache that ended in sharp points, wearing a black and white horizontal striped shirt, with blue jeans that were skin tight and likely too small for him. He looked like your stereotypical hipster douchebag, the type of guy that preached veganism and drank pumpkin spiced lattes at Starcup Cafe. Tracking the man down was too easy, in fact, Harold Victor wanted to be caught, all so he could be in the newspapers as some kind of creative genius. A pretentious artist who broke the laws of morality, in order to push the boundaries between what is acceptable and taboo. Well, he got his fifteen minutes of fame all right, but not long after entering prison, the inmates turned him into a gruesome art piece themselves. One morning a prison guard came to his cell, since Harold wasn't in the canteen like the rest of the scumbags. However, upon marching towards where Harold was supposed to be, the prison guard saw something he'd never forget. Harold had been stripped naked on the bottom bunk bed, his prison room mate had cut exactly one hundred and forty two triangles into Harold's flesh, all with the dot cuts in the middle of each one. It is unknown whether or not Harold wanted this to happen, wishing to become a part of his own art project. Or maybe his room mate simply hated the 'artist' and decided to punish the killer by giving him a taste of his own medicine. Whatever the case may be, the matter is closed. It doesn't really matter what the nature behind Harold's death was, either way he suffered and I say good riddance that a piece of shit like that no longer walks amongst us. That all happened in 2023, it's been two years since then, but I'll always remember the looks of horror upon his two victims' faces. It was like they had seen the devil himself, with their very own eyes.
By Joseph Roy Wright4 months ago in Horror
Zombies everywhere
Demi Moss ran for her life, the undead were rising all over England. Crawling out of the mud, like horrible little bugs. Gravestones were turning over, cemeteries had become danger zones, as zombie hordes gathered where people once mourned lost loved ones. It was like something out of a classic horror movie, as crippled men and women, with skin running off their bones, came shambling towards the living who fled from them in frantic terror! Whole cities were overrun with these monsters. Demi was in London when a horde of them burst from a diesel train in the underground. She was waiting in the subway to go home, but immediately fled back towards the city as hundreds of undead raced out of the metal carriages, their eyes burned red with a fiery rage unlike anything Demi had ever seen before. It terrified her, she and a hundred others joined a stampede racing upstairs, breaking through the barriers to resurface in Piccadilly Circus, the heart of the city. It was chaos, Demi didn't know where to look, at every turn; there were people killing people and it was almost impossible to tell who was infected or not. If that's what this was, Demi didn't know what was causing the zombie outbreak. It was a strange virus (if it was one) as the undead laughed and grinned, some even chanted; "the return of Lucien at last!" Or "our dark lord has resurrected!" Over and over again. No, this couldn't be a viral infection, it had to be something far darker than even that. She had heard about the return of Big Foot, Moth Man, Loch Ness Monster and then dinosaurs in America. Now there were zombies in England, something foul and menacing was a foot. Demi couldn't think about it at all, she just ran and ran, away from the horror, screaming in frantic terror! There had to be a way out of London, there just had to be. She searched for it endlessly, climbing high above the walking dead, jumping on top of stationary vehicles that had crashed in the outbreak. Smoke rose over the city, buildings were set on fire. Riot police were already storming the streets and alleyways, Demi looked high above the skyline, she saw army planes and helicopters, paratroopers were gliding in to save the day. There were panic bells, it was red alert! "There's something here from somewhere else!" A soldier yelled, as war machines sprung to life, shooting madly, "call the troops out in a hurry! This is it, boys, this is war!" He cried, as a hundred red and bloody zombies ran by. Demi hid from the gunfire, as these camouflaged superheroes stormed in to shoot the undead down, they weren't just from the sky, but crashing in with battle tanks, squashing the walking corpses like pesky insects. Demi didn't know what she was afraid of more, the marching men with high tech weaponry or the beasts from beyond the grave. She was hiding inside an abandoned building, with other survivors gathering close by, they became a gang of desperate people, eager to escape this living hell. It seemed impossible, so they all hid upstairs, watching from the windows high above, the war on land was neverending. The building collapsed before their feet, a missile crashed into the second floor, it made the walls around them crumble and shake violently. Demi and the others all tried to run back down to ground, but the stairs cracked and split wide open. Demi lost her footing, falling to her death. The last thing she heard was the others screaming, before the back of her head smashed the ground.
By Joseph Roy Wright5 months ago in Horror
Alone in space
The Verdant Starship log_721: Earth was destroyed years ago, it's been almost a decade now. In that time, me and my crew have been travelling through space, looking for planets to inhabit. We have over a thousand years worth of rations, the Verdant is a massive ship, one that can hold a huge number of exactly 101 people. However, only 31 of us ever got onboard back in 2025. Now that it is 2034, there are only 27 of us left. Four of us died, one or two committed suicide because life in space is hopeless [once you get over how beautiful the stars in space are]. Jamie was lost in space, after taking an expedition outside our ship to repair the antenna [which we believed was crucial in making contact with other human starships] his cable snapped under in some freak accident, when a collection of comet sped right past him, they knocked the poor man off balance completely, sending him spinning wildly into the darkness of space, never to been seen or heard of again. We couldn't risk reaching out to save him, our numbers were already running thin. That happened roughly six or eight years ago, back when we still hoped we weren't alone in space. Unfortunately it seems Jamie's sacrifice was completely in vain, despite fixing the antenna, we received no contact with other humans whatsoever, not even echoes from the long distant past, it was just static and sometimes we convinced ourselves there were voices, but deep down we knew that was wishful thinking and our imaginations trying to cheer us up, I suppose. The fourth member of the Verdant crew died recently, he was my brother, Zack Hayter, the only reason I kept going to be honest. Zack was my older sibling, by 3 years exactly. By the time we both reached our 30's the 3 year difference didn't matter too much, but especially as kids, he was always my older mentor. We went to the same schools together, he introduced me to the older kids back then, it was so cool having friends a lot bigger and wiser than my peers. Me and Zack were far closer than best friends or even lovers, we may have been even closer than most brothers. Because me and him always played the same video games together, we attended the same music concerts, festivals and events. We did everything together, even shared the same girlfriends, some might call that a bit creepy, but we did. Zack ended his own life, just like Francis and Rebecca did, all because he saw no hope or future for humanity. "We're all fucked, brother." He said, "Forever isolated and lost in a dark vacuum of never ending stars, not a single one of them inhabitable. We're already dead." I tried to stop him, beg him to keep on going, to keep living, but he said I should join him, that maybe there was an afterlife. One better than this. I had done almost everything with Zack, but killing myself was the one and only thing I couldn't do. Not even for my own flesh and blood brother. He overdosed on sleeping pills, ending his life somewhat peacefully, falling asleep and then never waking up. I only hope he had one last final, sweet dream. Maybe of heaven or perhaps of earth.
By Joseph Roy Wright7 months ago in Futurism
Dark Castle
Once upon a time there was a dark castle, it stood high and mighty on top of a tall black mountain. You could see this castle upon the skyline, standing against the bright red sun. The castle was magnificent and villagers all across the realm came to gaze upon it. Yet it always looked eerie at night time, like a dark shadow over the land, looming and threatening the folk down below on the ground before the mountain. Rumours speculated among the magic folk, that it belonged to an evil emperor or empress, one that stayed away from the rest of medieval society. The castle was older than anybody realised, some villagers lived whole lives from birth to death (of old age) with that castle still standing there upon the tall horizon. It was as old as the realm itself, as if the first building God had made. Of course it had to be built by human hands, God made mountains and trees, not brick, stone and structures. Yet nobody, not even in all the other realms, could tell you who exactly created this thing. Many debated on whether or not the castle was abandoned, many brave knights and explorers had dared to travel up there, but none ever returned. Rumours of a beautiful princess trapped in the tallest tower of the castle began to spread, it inspired many fairytales that are still talked about to this very day in 2025. Theories of a big red dragon dwelling there began to spread too, as worries of it one day coming down to earth from the castle to burn everyone alive down below, became a much feared tale. This superstition got so overwhelming, the king of the village that looked up at it, demanded a brave fellowship of knights to climb all the way up to the top of mount Solaride and investigate the strange structure. That they did, the fellowship consisted of five brave men and women, the toughest warriors in all the land. They were gone for almost three whole weeks, but only one of them returned to tell her tale. It was Victoria Kingsley who was the sole survivor and this was her terrifying tale: We got to the top of the mountain, there stood the incredible and huge dark castle, it was frightening just to be near. Yet, despite this unsettling feeling, we matched forwards, before entering the abandoned interior. The castle was abandoned, just as we always thought, or so it seemed. We tore down the cobwebs, killed some of the bugs and spiders that dwelled upon the walls and stone floors. It wasn't until foolish Scott decided to grab as much treasure from the old, dead king's throne room where his skeleton still sat next to his long dead queen upon the thrones. This disturbed the dead king, his skeleton became animated before our very eyes, even the queen skeleton was suddenly animated. "Trespassers!" They screamed, their skeletal jaws dropping and closing in a frantic speed, one that filled me with terror! Their eye sockets flew red and green, flashing like a dying flame. I could not comprehend the origin of this dark power. Soon the knights of this old Kingdom came crashing through the doors, all were skeletons too, dressed in armour with metal axes, swords and shields. We fought bravely, but the skeleton army proved deadly and unkillable, they were immortal or perhaps already long dead. We had lifted some ancient curse. I watched in horror, as my company was slaughtered before my very scared eyes. John's head was squashed like a bug beneath my feet, blood and gore squirting everywhere! Scott was second to die, he was dismembered in half by a huge axe. Then there were only three of us left, I was a coward I must confess, but only I survived by spinning on my heels and running away! I could hear that undead army chase me down the mountain, it somehow felt far longer getting back home than it did when we departed. Somehow, three or four hours later, I shook them, I escaped their grasp and they lost my sight.
By Joseph Roy Wright7 months ago in Horror
Internet lies. Top Story - June 2025.
People will believe anything. You wouldn't believe some of the crazy theories people actually believe on the internet. Like flat earthers who refuse to believe the earth is spherical, instead believing it to be flat instead. Or how about those online conspiracy theorists who believe Hollywood actors eat babies to stay young and handsome, or how they believe a secret cult known as the Illuminati control the world's governments and society as a whole. There are folks who believe lizard people live amongst us, disguising themselves as humans or that aliens secretly watch our every move. Some of these conspiracies can be funny or intriguing to speculate over, there are very few that actually hold merit or have even proven to be true. My personal favourite has to be the Mandela Effect, where everyone remembers something being a certain way, yet in reality it's always been another way. Like imagine waking up one day to see the sun is now red, only for everyone else to say it's always been that way and even in old movies and pictures the sun is indeed red, not orange or is it yellow? Now that's a Mandela Effect. There is also the Butterfly Effect, where if you were to do so little as kill a butterfly in the past, it could drastically change the present or future. The Butterfly Effect is typically the plot to most movies or books that feature the premise of time travel, where the time traveller makes a bad decision in the past that needs fixing otherwise their personal life is doomed. These are all fun theories, ones made up by imaginative people. Some are harmless to believe, while others can have sometimes dangerous and uncertain consequences if you decide to believe them, which brings us up to the clutch of this story. That being the time Josef Carlin was wrongfully accused of the murder of poor little Ally Sedan. You see what happened is this; Josef worked at a theme park called Ricky Mouse Land in Miami Florida, which was based on the popular children's cartoon show. Ally had unfortunately died during a particularly gruesome ride on the tea cups, the cup she was inside of span out of control and the railing was loose so she came tumbling out of the ride at speed so fast it proved fatal as she crashed head first onto the yellow brick ground, staining it red with her blood. What happened to Ally was a tragic accident, the ride was old and unstable, it simply broke and led to tragedy. However, others wanted revenge, they needed someone to blame. So when news leaked that it was Josef who had operated the ride that day, everyone wanted to point fingers and claim he did that on purpose. That he intentionally made that one tea cup spin out of control in a successful attempt to kill that poor girl! The rumours were all over the internet, Josef was even "let go" from his job because of all the negative press he and the park were receiving.
By Joseph Roy Wright7 months ago in Horror
Please Stay
Tanya Belle was invited to a friend's house, his name was Mike Stanley and he always liked her in a romantic way, unfortunately for him, Tanya never loved him in the same way. Mike was cool however, he had many friends and wasn't afraid to flex his wealth, the guy still lived with his parents but they owned a big house and had gone on holiday for the weekend, not coming home until Monday morning. So that Saturday he hosted a wild house party, inviting everyone from the college they both attended. Of course not everyone showed up, but at least 30 of them did. Now that may not sound like a lot, but those 30 students completely filled the house with still enough room for everyone to dance and enjoy the party. Tanya only came along because her besties were going, they were all hot young women just like her, none of them liked Mike in "that way" either, but a fun party is still a fun party. As the night began, things went smoothly and went just as awesome as you'd expect. The music was loud and trendy, the disco and strobe lights were groovy, the alcohol was expensive and tasty, everyone was having a great time! They played beer pong, pool, four player video games, spin the bottle and truth or dare. It was the last game on that list where things went sour. Whenever Mike Stanley was given the choice to dare anybody he always picked Tanya, daring her to kiss him (which she did out of peer pressure), he asked her to do other things but fortunately her friends stopped him from asking, by making fun of him for being a creep, he stopped daring her then because he didn't want to ruin his cool image. Tanya soon forgot about the whole thing later that night, even the uncomfortable truths about her sexuality that he asked during the game, like if she was still a virgin (yes) or if she secretly fancied Mike (no). The young lady got so drunk and had so much fun that night, she somehow forgot how predatory Mike had been acting. Not just with her, but the other girls too. He did kiss a few of the girls though, but they wouldn't go any further with him. The cool dude wasn't so cool after all, everyone was just using his house and generosity for a good time. No girls respected him, deep down he knew this but wouldn't give up. Because just like Tanya, he too was a virgin and thought this shared misery (as he thought it to be) was something that connected him and her in a romantic way that she just hadn't accepted yet. By the end of the night, Tanya found herself lying on the living room sofa inside Mike's house. She was half asleep and incredibly drunk. Only a few of Mike's closest friends were left at the party, which had become this quiet and creepy den of drugged out and drunken young men. The music was low and eerie too, it had gotten dark and the strobe lights had switched off, so had the disco ones. Tanya suddenly felt uneasy, this was the after-party where things always went wrong. She needed to go home!
By Joseph Roy Wright7 months ago in Horror
