Horror

“The Door That Wasn’t There Yesterday”
Lila Morgan first noticed the door on a Wednesday morning—the kind of gray, uneventful morning that should have been incapable of housing anything extraordinary. She was padding down the hallway of her grandmother’s old house, still half-asleep, intending only to grab a mug from the kitchen cabinet. But as she passed the linen closet, she stopped.
By Kamran khanabout a month ago in Fiction
Ask & You Shall Bereave
He dragged his backpack behind him as he pushed one foot in front of the other. Often, walking home was his only moment of peace. Abruptly, something wet and squishy smacked the back of his head. He stopped and looked around just in time to see two boys from his class running away laughing.
By Leah Suzanne Deweyabout a month ago in Fiction
The Lighthouse . Content Warning.
I inherited the lighthouse the day my father vanished. No note, no explanation—just an empty house perched on jagged cliffs where the sea screamed endlessly into the night. People in town said the place was cursed, said the last keeper went mad. I didn’t care. I wanted solitude, a place to escape the chaos of my life. I got more than I bargained for.
By E. hasanabout a month ago in Fiction
Amber Heartbeat
The first time the wall pulsed beneath Aria’s palm, she thought it was a trick of the late-evening light—one of those soft illusions old houses like to play on tired minds. The hallway was already quiet in that peculiar, listening way, its faded wallpaper breathing dust and age. A thin beam of dusk filtered through the cracked window above the staircase, striking the vine-patterned wallpaper like a spotlight trained on forgotten history.
By Jhon smithabout a month ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Collected Lost Souls
The First Time I Saw Him The first time I saw the boy, he was sitting on the edge of the school playground beside a kid who was crying.
By Fazal Hadiabout a month ago in Fiction
The Lantern of Quiet Choices. AI-Generated.
In the bustling town of Auravale, where neon lights gleamed against glass towers and drones painted the sky with streaks of silver, lived a 14-year-old boy named Rian Solis. Auravale was a place that believed louder was better—louder advertisements, louder opinions, louder celebrations. Yet, amid the constant clamor, Rian preferred quiet places, quiet thoughts, and quiet choices.
By shakir hamidabout a month ago in Fiction
Christmas Wishing
Here's a link to the Challenge: Dear Satan Santa, I have been a good boy, but I wonder if that is enough in the climate we live in. I want so many things, and I am not sure if you can get them for me. I would like to have more things for my family and myself. We deserve to be released from all of our obligations, despite the contract we signed.
By Kendall Defoe about a month ago in Fiction
Day 6: The Occurrence Eve. Content Warning.
…And Wolfman Patrick’s journal, extra scratchy bold like a kid scribbling on his desk. I think last night’s haul was a little light. Ron read my journal and was becoming sick of my apathetic fight against his journalistic integrity. No details too small, and if there’s some kind of prize money for this find, he’ll split it with me down the middle. I won’t talk—yet. It’s not the stringing him along, but in the case of an F.B.I. raid before the sacrifices start, that I may, with escape time, be a waste of a charge. Protection is cheap when everyone is desperate. Something I discovered holy while shitting off the boat's side.
By Willem Indigoabout a month ago in Fiction
Snowfall. Content Warning.
Ben has had enough. He sat at the edge of a stained mattress on the floor. The air in his apartment felt stale, like it hadn’t moved in days. Or maybe that was just him.
By Erick Vanderhaleabout a month ago in Fiction
Halloween
Myers reached out his hand and pulled Laurie into the compactor. He crawled out and they charged at him, but he was gone in a flash. The citizens of Haddonfield let out a collective gasp. There were whispers and gaping mouths. He was not human. He had vanished in front of Laurie back in 1978. This hinted at his supernatural nature, but no one wanted to admit that.
By DJ Robbinsabout a month ago in Fiction
Healthy
1st Edition: Originally Published on Vocal Media in 2021 2nd Edition: December, 9th 2025 - I am dreaming of data screens, metal shapes, floating numbers, bulging muscles, and the allure of fat-slimmed, rippling-bodied figures. A shock interrupts my heaven. My eyes open to a familiar ceiling, in familiar quarters, in a familiar, floating, apartment building. An alarm resounds throughout the bare, white walls- made blue by the hue of the nightlight. I am delighted to exchange Heaven for a treasure of equal weight.
By Scott A. Vancilabout a month ago in Fiction
En Passant. Content Warning.
1st Edition: Originally Published on Vocal Media in 2021 2nd Edition: December 9th, 2025 - The refrigerator door hung open, expunging the cold air from the chillboxed realm of the keeper of the sustenance. Leftover rancidity wafted into flared, masculine nostrils—nostrils erupting with bushels of hair. It had been an Ocean Quahog’s age since the man had eaten anything. The light in the fridge had broken, and deluminated food had an unappetizing zeal. However, The Man knew if he had bothered to fix the problem, he would see that in the illuminated age, nothing was worth eating in the first place.
By Scott A. Vancilabout a month ago in Fiction