
Theresa M Hochstine
Bio
Theresa Hochstine is a fiction author in WNY. Specializing in Horror and Cont. fiction, Hochstine offers a unique perspective on modern storytelling. Hochstine has an associate degree in English Literature & working on a bachelors in C.W.
Achievements (1)
Stories (20)
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The Ship Of Dreams
I was a boy when I first laid eyes on the Titanic. A glorious ship, the size of a floating building. I couldn’t help but agree with the whispers calling it the ship of dreams. The black and while hull and three huge funnels stretching towards the clouds. I was only nine when I boarded the ship on April 10th. My family and I got on in Southampton, England. We were off to New York City where my father had planned on opening his own bookshop. I was accompanied by father John Willits and my older brother Thomas. My mother Eliza and my sister Jane and Olivia were waiting for us in a townhouse my father had purchased a few months earlier. I could taste the salt of the sea water as we waved goodbye to my Uncle George from the deck of the ship. The sky was blue and clear, and all seemed right in the world. We were excited to start our new journey in a new land. We stayed on the deck until land was far from sight. I remember hearing the call of seagulls and watching the water be thrashed to and fro as the ship pressed on. A new life was waiting for me.
By Theresa M Hochstine4 years ago in Fiction
Nocturnal
Angelica sat, in silence at her oak wood kitchen table. As she slowly lifted her cup of coffee to her lips, Angelica peered out the window. Rested on top of the archway thirty feet from her porch was an owl. Angelica sat and admired the owl's fluffy white chest and the brown and tan swirls that colorized it’s feathers. The owls beady black eyes glancing back at her. “What a beauty.” Angelica said under her breath before taking another swig of her coffee. She sighed. As the sun began to rise her dim kitchen began to glow brighter revealing her creamy sand colored skin. There were no creases, no cuts, no red spots. Angelica’s skin was like porcelain. Her emerald eyes glistened in the morning sun and her long blacks curls complimented her gentle facial structure exquisitely. A single tear slithers down her left cheek like a serpant. Her eyes still enviously glaring at the magnificent creature perched upon her arch. The arch was structured like a lattice and was made from the Red Oak Tree. An elegant red-rose bush climbed from bottom to top on both sides.
By Theresa M Hochstine4 years ago in Horror
Annual Camping Trip
It was October 23rd, we sat around the campfire as we watched the sky slowly drift into darkness. It was the last night of our camping trip and we wanted to savor as much of it as possible. My sister’s and I all live-in separate states but every year we take one week in October off every year for a camping trip to our old hiking spot in Arkwright Hills. This year was exceptionally special as it is our 25th birthday. “So, what do you guys want to do?” I say as I pass a blunt to Andi. “I’m getting bored.” I continued. "Want to go hiking?” Alex blurted out as she jumped from her chair. “Please Alice! It’ll be fun!” she continued in a sing-song fashion. Alex is the sweet one and she had this way of getting me to cave into doing whatever she wanted. The worst part is she knew it too. She just stared at me dancing around like a goofball, smiling, and begging me to go, So I nodded my head. We doused the fire and watched as the smoke drifted through the trees. After we stomped out the coals, we slipped our jackets on, turned on our flashlights and headed into the woods. As we half-stepped through the woods we continued to pass the blunt to each other. “So, remind me again, why don't you like hiking at night?” Andi said with a smirk. "Leave her alone Andi!” Alex screeched back. “Just ignore her, you know she just likes to push your buttons.” she said with a gentle smile. I smiled back and we continued our hike. As I walked my eyes crept toward the sky. The clouds began to slip towards the ground and suddenly we found ourselves lost in a sea of pillow thick fog and my heart began to race. My eyes darted back and forth and though I couldn’t see, I grabbed both my sisters by their hands and darted through the fog until I saw a crystal-clear midnight sky with stars glistening in the distance. But as I continued to examine the area for a familiar landscape, I noticed that though the sky was clear the Earth here was dying. The trees were weathered, dark, and brittle. The branches all cracked or fell and rested upon the ground. The grass was dark and black. We came to a dirt road and that’s when I knew I ran the wrong way. “Okay guys, I fucked up and guessed wrong. Who wants to decide whether we go explore the spooky 1600’s style village in the distance or we go back through the fog and hope we go back home? I say shrugging my shoulders. “Spooky Village! "Alex shouts, jumping off the ground in excitement. “Yeah, sure, whatever, I don’t care.” Andi mutters. We silently tip-toed toward the candle light village and stopped at a sign that read Salem, Massachusetts's. Simultaneously we shuddered. We stood silently and exchanged exhilarated glances. A warm orange glow coming from the center of the town square caught our attention. We each nodded at one another and continued to move towards the town. The closer we got the bigger the glow got and the warmer we felt. Then the most horrifying, gut-wrenching scream pierced our ears. We covered our ears and crouched on the ground. Once again, we exchanged glances, nodded and continued on hands and knees towards the glow. Our hearts synchronized beating growing faster and louder with each step. In the distance, we hear a voice echoing in unison, “Burn Witch! Burn” That’s when we see a young woman about 16 years old tied to a wooden stake on a pile of burning hay. Her screaming vibrated through the trees like a gust of wind, her head stretched towards the sky and tears flooding her cheeks. Then she went silent and her flesh began to melt exposing the bone underneath and wiped the tears from our eyes and turned back towards the woods. But then one of the villager’s spotted us and shouted “Witches!” We ran, side by side and bolted through the woods until we reached a wall of fog. We paused and stared unknowingly at the fog. We were hopping up and down biting our nails and hyperventilating. We heard the voices ringing in the distance and growing closer, “After them! They must burn!” At the exact same time we each stood up straight, took a deep breath and grabbed each other’s hands. “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” I said with a shudder. My sisters nodded at me with their tangled hair and tear stained cheeks and, hand and hand we jumped into the wall of smoke and to our delight landed at the entrance of our tent. We sighed with relief and we cheered while still lying on the ground. We rolled in the grass and rejoiced then rushed into the car and drove to the nearest hotel. We never went back to the tent.
By Theresa M Hochstine4 years ago in Horror
Therapy
Theresa Hochstine September 2021 Therapy-Final I remember, it was a crisp autumn day. October third. I was sitting on our front porch, swaying back and forth in the rocker and as the cold breeze kissed my cheek, I felt a moment of peace. But of course, Damien whips open the door.
By Theresa M Hochstine4 years ago in Horror





