Nathan Sanders
Bio
I write fictional stories about horrible situations, and the things we learn from them.
Stories (6)
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Seventh Floor
The seventh floor shows you things. Impossible things. At first I thought the old-timers were crazy. Almost everyone that had been with the company for over 20 years refused to go to the seventh floor. They said the building didn't like it. I always figured it was some shared private joke among them; the kind of inside joke the secrets of which are revealed to anyone who reaches a certain tenure, as long as they also possess a countenance that makes them appear as individuals trustworthy of this most guarded punchline. But when I finally got the promotion I'd spent years chasing, they all stopped talking to me.
By Nathan Sanders8 months ago in Horror
Cabin #8
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Grace was supposed to be babysitting that night, but she had snuck out as soon as she'd put the kids to sleep. There was a party at the old campgrounds, and Randall was going to be there. And if he was going, then she sure as hell was too.
By Nathan Sanders4 years ago in Fiction
Olly's Owls
Olly read somewhere that owls are an omen of death. If that were true, then he was in serious trouble. The church steeple was filled with them. They nested in the rafters and perched on forgotten Crucifixes. Their white, disc-shaped faces swiveled on ball-joint necks, capable of spinning 360 degrees as if it were nothing. Luminescent faces pierced through the dark, creating the illusion that they were a legion of floating demon heads. Worst of all, those dead, blank eyes watched him with morbid curiosity. Dozens of pairs of black hell-portals stared out from the floating heads, each one locked unblinkingly on Oliver's rigid form.
By Nathan Sanders4 years ago in Fiction
The Hallway Door
Eliza Holcomb hadn’t left her house since she watched her family get beaten to death. After that trauma, she moved in with her aunt. That was almost two years ago. Two years without feeling the air on her face or the sun shining down on her fair skin. Now, for the first time since then, she was outside. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going exactly as she imagined it would go. She was running for her life through dark and twisting woods. The wind whipped past her face with such ferocity that she couldn’t tell where its chilling tentacles ended and the sharp snapping branches began. Blood trickled down her face from the shallow cuts, and her breath came in rasping pants, but she kept running. She couldn’t slow down. If she stopped for even a second, he would catch her.
By Nathan Sanders4 years ago in Horror
Caller Unknown
Arin sat straight up in bed, gasping for air, his sheets and pajamas soaked in blood. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, forcing the nightmarish images from his mind. His chest heaved in and out methodically, struggling to slow his breathing and regain some margin of control over his body. When he opened his eyes again, there was no blood. The sticky substance that covered his bed was only sweat.
By Nathan Sanders4 years ago in Horror
