Horror

When The Wolf Spoke (Chapter Snippet). Content Warning.
💫🕸️ Months after leaving their Homeland of Siberia & traveled the Sea—Manya and her now six year old daughter, Tira, had been living amongst a tribe of Wolf-yókai within the Hokkaidō forest of Japan. Having shared Wolf blood, Osamu the leader of the Wolf tribe allows Manya and her small pack refuge within his territory. In this chapter, you'll dive into the morning after the tribe fights spider yókai called Tsuchigumo, they begin a ritual to bury their dead, giving Manya a glimpse of the other side of their shared bloodline. 👇🏽
By Ghoulishtale Studios3 months ago in Fiction
A Long way back
It started through the woven metal screen. The front door was open halfway, which wasn’t normal. You don’t leave your doors open around here. Or your windows, for that matter. Every crack, every crevice is a chance for something to creep in. The hot sand is teeming with life, and your house is a shady refuge better left vacant of the tenants that crawl.
By Thomas Speer3 months ago in Fiction
Clarity. Honorable Mention in Through the Keyhole Challenge.
I’ll admit it now, I was never very good with money. I always found ways of making it, but I always found losing it equally easy. It was investments that cost me more often than not. Surefire, safe, guaranteed returns. I just couldn’t get enough of them. It’s not to say that they always came back to bite me, but they did often enough and, in the case of the most recent blip in my fortunes, I found myself living in a very modest apartment complex with more debts than furniture to comfort me. It was the resting place of any number of people who had woeful tales of misfortune, most of whom I had little time for or interest in. This is where Mrs Price differed. This lovely old lady was full of kindness, joy and generosity; she did not need to live in our sordid little grief hole but chose to.
By Simon Curtis3 months ago in Fiction
“Between Two Worlds”
Between Two Worlds By [Ali Rehman] Lena had always lived between two worlds. By day, she was grounded in the familiar rhythms of reality: the hum of the city, the blur of faces rushing past, the sharp click of keyboard keys in her small office. But by night, everything changed. When sleep claimed her, she slipped into a realm where reality twisted and stretched, where dreams painted scenes more vivid than any waking moment.
By Ali Rehman3 months ago in Fiction
“The Library of Lost Stories”
The Library of Lost Stories By [Ali Rehman] In the heart of the oldest part of town, hidden behind a veil of ivy and shadowed by towering ancient oaks, there was a place few knew existed — the Library of Lost Stories. It wasn’t marked on any map, nor was it whispered about in common conversation. It was a secret sanctuary for forgotten memories, a magical refuge where stories that had slipped through time’s cracks came alive once more.
By Ali Rehman3 months ago in Fiction
The Last Look
It started with a flicker. Just a small glitch on one of the security feeds, nothing unusual for a night shift. But something about that motion caught my eye. Camera 12. The east hallway.
By Kismat M3 months ago in Fiction
Halloween House Party (2). Content Warning.
Chapter 2: “What the fuck do you mean by that?” “You know exactly what I mean” I hear the sinful way his lips turn up in a devilish smile. The same that drew me to him in the first place; I drank poison and asked for more, slowly dying from the inside but refused to stop and save myself because he made it taste so damn good.
By 𝓗. 𝓒. 𝓡𝓾𝓫𝔂3 months ago in Fiction
Doorway Dreaming
The door was the size of a cathedral wall, and it had no business being under the ice. At first the archaeologists thought it was a seam in the glacier—a trick of pressure and light. But when Dr. Keene brushed away the frost with the back of his glove, the pattern beneath was too precise. Iron, or something that only pretended to be iron. Lines inlaid with gold. A lattice of circles and symbols older than language but unfortunately for him, they seemed intentional. They called it a door because that was easier than admitting it looked like one.
By Thadeus 3 months ago in Fiction
Through the Window Across the Street”
It started as a study of light. Every evening, when the sun began to dip below the buildings and the glass turned to gold, Daniel sat by his window with a sketchbook on his lap. His tiny apartment was on the fifth floor, directly across from another building that looked almost identical — gray bricks, rusting fire escapes, and rows of tired windows that caught and fractured the dying sunlight.
By john dawar3 months ago in Fiction
Festival of Shadows: The Lost Truth of Halloween
The wind crawled through the hollow streets of Ravenshollow, a forgotten village in Northern England. Every year, as October bled into its final night, the townsfolk lit carved pumpkins, wore masks, and spoke the ancient words—“Trick or Treat.”
By Wellova 3 months ago in Fiction
The Door That Wasn't a Door
The key to the thirteenth floor was heavier than the others. It was an old, skeleton-key thing, iron and tarnished, attached to my janitorial ring with a separate, sturdy chain. My boss, a man named Mr. Henderson who smelled of stale coffee and resignation, had handed it to me on my first night with one instruction: “Sweep the hall. Do not, under any circumstances, open any of the doors. Especially not 13A. The locksmith is coming next week to change the lot.”
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Light of the Desert: The Story of Bilal ibn Rabah (RA)
Heavy with the sun, with its rays scorching the desert into an oven of light and heat, the sun stood over Mecca. In a small corner near the Kaaba, a man was lying on the ground chained to the burning sand, his back raw from the whip, his lips dry and cracked. Each inhalation was punctuated by pain but from his shaking lips was uttered a word that would not die.
By Nusuki3 months ago in Fiction