Horror

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
THE LAST HARVEST
The crypt door slammed shut behind him, echoing like the closing of a tomb, and Liam’s heart hammered against his ribs. Darkness pressed in from every side, thick and suffocating, broken only by the faint, sickly green glow emanating from Eleanor Kincaid’s eyes. She stood over Chloe, who lay motionless on the cold stone floor, her breathing shallow, her face pale as wax. In Eleanor’s hand, a ritual knife gleamed, as if thirsting for more than blood.
By Wellova 3 months ago in Fiction
The Spirit Box (6)
Chapter 6: The Snake from Heavens Gate I hadn’t even left for work yet when tragedy struck the office. As the early morning light seeped through the windows of the police station, a sudden explosion rocked the building. The night shift officers, not yet clocked out and minutes before their shift ended, scrambled to their feet and drew their weapons as a group of white-clad covered figures stormed into the station, firing shots into the air and throwing smoke bombs while humming chants.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 months ago in Fiction
Hosts and Ghosts
No peripheral vision. Ena could only see what lay directly beyond the keyhole. A diorama slice of the room beyond: the opposite wall, one quarter of the the fireplace, and the tall back of a leather upholstered chair angled away from her facing the fire. The rest of the room melded into dancing shadows.
By Tyler Clark (he/they)3 months ago in Fiction
The Silence Between Thoughts
They say writers hear voices in their heads. But what if one of those voices starts hearing you? My name is Arham. I’ve been a writer for nine years — crime novels, mostly.
By Naimat ullah3 months ago in Fiction
THE HARVEST OF WHISPERS - PART
The silence of the advancing figures was more terrifying than any sound. They moved as one entity, a wall of grotesque masks and period costumes that now seemed less like disguises and more like stolen skins. Their hollow eyes, carved from wood, moulded from leather, or simply painted onto fabric, were fixed on Liam and Callum.
By Wellova 3 months ago in Fiction
Black Magic in Sindh: The Story They Never Told Us:. AI-Generated.
🌙The beginning.. They stated it become just superstition. That black magic—sihr—was a myth from the vintage days. however within the quiet alleys of Sindh, at the back of closed doorways and whispered duas, the symptoms nevertheless linger. This isn’t a horror tale. It’s a caution. A reminder that when we stray from the route of Allah, even protection can come to be a jail.
By The Writer...A_Awan3 months ago in Fiction
The Moon That Cried Silver Tears
The people of the world first noticed it during the great drought. The skies had been relentlessly clear for months, and the land was parched to dust. One night, a new star appeared, trailing a faint, silvery light. But it wasn't a star. It was a tear.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Whine At The Door
Every soul needs a guide--even if it isn't human. Based on a true event. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin3 months ago in Fiction
The Night Shift
I crawled towards the faint yellow glow in the crack at the bottom of the door frame. I felt a warm liquid dripping from my brown and could smell the iron of my blood mixed with the must of damp laundry.
By Theresa M Hochstine3 months ago in Fiction
The Cry in the Water Part 9
"Come, come to me Balthamar!" cried the hooded figure, between other words of dark arcane language that grated on the listeners with the force of malice. "I call you forth to my service!"
By Jamye Sharp3 months ago in Fiction
Ghosts came to Tea
Now, believe me when I tell you, that Shamus and I had no idea that we had been dead these past ten years. I mean, we have had our "All Hallow's Eve Tea Party Date" at the same time at midnight every year since we had been together.
By Novel Allen3 months ago in Fiction