Horror

File 1: Lydia – The Vanity Mother
Hey, everyone. As the spooky month of October approaches in 2025, I decided to do a countdown of my favorite creepy and disturbing theories I have about ghosts from the Nintendo game Luigi’s Mansion. I know I jumped the gun on this, and it is now late into October, but hey, I live for the creeps and scares.
By V-Ink Stories4 months ago in Fiction
File 2: Chauncey – The Infant
Chauncey – The Infant Age: 1 Description: The spoiled baby of the mansion’s family, eternally locked in a state of tantrum.
By V-Ink Stories4 months ago in Fiction
Marquis de Sade's "The Ghost"
Note: The following is a retelling of "Le Revenant" ("The Ghost") by the Marquis de Sade, from the small book Short Histories, Stories, and Fables, which he wrote in La Pelagie prison between 1794-1795. It is uncharacteristically a tame, even bourgeois tale. We have remained faithful to the original in that regard. C'est la vie.
By Tom Baker4 months ago in Fiction
Through the Keyhole
The story begins, as all treacherously good disasters do, with procrastination. The challenge prompt is open on one screen: Write a story that begins with someone peering through a keyhole or modern equivalent. I've been staring at the prompt long enough that the words have utterly lost meaning. Keyhole. Key. Hole. Holey key. Holey moly. ... My brain is stuck in a buffering loop.
By Autumn Stew4 months ago in Fiction
Desperation. Content Warning.
His messages came just before midnight, when my apartment was a nest of blue light, and the kettle hissed in soft bursts like it could hear me think. I scrolled through his photos. He had two of the same photo in a row, one slightly more cropped than the other: a man half-wedged against his truck, with a smile that wanted to be easy. His bio seemed like it had been created in a haphazard plume of a joint. We messaged for a while. He said the right things quickly, and the wrong things even faster. I stared at the screen until the screen was staring back into me.
By Autumn Stew4 months ago in Fiction
The Passport of Torenza
They found her in the pre-clearance queue at Torrento International just after midnight, a single passport on the stainless steel tray and a story nobody at the airport could fit into their forms.
By Wellova 4 months ago in Fiction
Face in the Water
On the edge of a quiet English village, there was a pond that people said was cursed. Children were told never to go near it at night, for it was said that a face sometimes appeared on the surface when the moon was full. Most laughed at the story. But for Eleanor Gray, the pond was more than a tale. It was where her brother had vanished twelve years ago.
By LUNA EDITH4 months ago in Fiction
Don't Look Too Closely
Something was just…off. It was 2 am, and Evan was finally shutting down his gaming console after a few hours of catching up with his friends on a slow Thursday evening. Of course, those few hours had turned into several after talking trash across glowing screens and friendly fire, and he cursed under his breath after checking the time on his phone. His screen’s harsh blue light seemed almost too bright, slicing through the dim calm of his apartment. Along with the hum of the refrigerator and faint tick of the wall clock, everything felt unusually loud in the quiet aftermath of digital laughter.
By Nicole Fenn4 months ago in Fiction
The Room With No Window – Part 6
The town of Hallowmere had learned to forget. They boarded the house long ago, paved the street, and renamed the block so that no one would remember where it stood. But stories have a way of surviving, even when walls crumble and people disappear.
By Wellova 4 months ago in Fiction
ATomorrow’s Message
1. The Envelope That Shouldn’t Exist It was 2:47 a.m. when Ethan Miller was awakened by a soft knock at his door. The sound was so precise—three gentle taps—that it pulled him instantly from sleep.
By Iazaz hussain4 months ago in Fiction
Knock at Midnight
The first knock came just as the clock struck twelve. Three soft raps — tap, tap, tap — steady and patient. I froze. Midnight visitors weren’t a thing in our neighborhood. The only sounds at that hour were the hum of the refrigerator and the wind scratching at the old wooden shutters. My husband was away on a business trip, and even the dog had started snoring on the couch.
By Iazaz hussain4 months ago in Fiction
The Room With No Window – Part 5
For years, the boarding house remained untouched—a silent shell of wood and dust, sealed behind caution tape. Locals whispered that no one should go near it after dark. But eventually, the city council ordered it torn down. To them, it was just another forgotten ruin.
By Wellova 4 months ago in Fiction