Horror

Home of the Free
The knocks came after dinner. Three raps at the front door: abrasive, aggressive, authoritative. Glen Finch put down the footrest of his recliner and stood from its familiar comfort. His middle school-aged twins looked up to him with widened eyes. He held his hand out calmly, shushing them.
By Ashley Lima4 months ago in Fiction
Three Knocks in the French Quarter
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! A pounding at the door cut through the dim and quiet café at the corner of Decatur Street like a rusted knife. The lights were low with the CLOSED sign facing outward, but in a few hours, the café would be bustling with regulars and tourists alike. Margaux Lumiere was grateful her café dreams were a success, but these quiet moments baking pastries in the kitchen were the ones she cherished most. She had been humming along to the soft sounds of Edith Piaf as she rolled out the laminated dough for her famous croissants.
By All’s Fair in Love & Writing4 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Gift
In the quiet heart of a town that progress had forgotten, nestled between a shuttered bookstore and a cobbler who hadn’t seen a customer in a year, sat an old shop with no name. Its windows were fogged with time, its bell above the door rusted into silence. But inside, time danced.
By Asif shah4 months ago in Fiction
Ouija Knocks Back
The first night the board came out, the house was a jar with its lid twisted loose. We’d eaten cereal on the couch because Mom couldn’t bring herself to dirty a pan, then washed the bowls while our feet slid on the linoleum where the dishwasher had once dripped. Dad would have fixed the leak without YouTube, without a manual, just a wrench and that chuckle that warmed the kitchen more than steam. The month after the funeral, the maintenance man replaced the gasket and offered condolences like a coupon. The leak stopped, but the kitchen was still cold.
By Cadma4 months ago in Fiction
Miss Me?
Hello, you abominable creature, I will not forgive, and I'll never forget. . Recall the night? The rain poured ruthlessly, and the wind gave no mercy. Yes, that very same.
By Cristal S.4 months ago in Fiction
🏔️ The Quiet Hour 🏔️
The streetlamps were still lit when Jonah Hale woke, heart hammering. He hadn’t really slept—he hadn’t truly slept in weeks. Every time he closed his eyes, the weight of the decision pressed down harder: the debt, the looming threat, the way the walls of his small apartment seemed to inch closer each night.
By Zidane4 months ago in Fiction
Ashes
Clara placed her coffee on the dining table. She reached her fingertips across the mahogany surface and pulled the pink ashtray towards her. Placing the hand-rolled cigarette in her mouth, she took out her vintage lighter.
By Lea Wilson 4 months ago in Fiction
Parental Fear
The Knock She sat restlessly on the couch staring blankly at the TV. Her daughter, at the mall with her friends, was 10 minutes late, and her son, at his friend’s house, was going on 5 minutes late already. She shifted between angry and scared with each second of the clock.
By Timothy A Rowland4 months ago in Fiction
Dancing with the Devil
I played with the demons Let them spin me round As we danced and sang in the rain Felt the goosebumps assault my flesh
By Alisha Wilkins ✒️🦋🖋️4 months ago in Fiction
The Library at the Edge of Dreams
M Mehran No one knew when the library appeared. One morning, the townspeople of Merrinfield woke to find a tall glass building standing at the edge of the river — a place that hadn’t been there the day before. It shimmered faintly, like sunlight caught on water. There was no sign, no doorbell, only a single line etched into the glass:
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Fiction
Taptaptap
TAP. TAP. TAP. My eyes popped open, sliding over to where the sound rang out from. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound echoed again through the space, a slight screeching sound emanating from where the nails held the hinges in place.
By Steph Ruff4 months ago in Fiction
The Whispering Room
It was supposed to be just another urban exploration trip a weekend escape from the noise of the city. For years, people in the nearby town of Millcreek had whispered about the Holloway Farmhouse, a place abandoned since the 1970s. Locals claimed that at night, if you got close enough, you could hear your own name being called from inside.
By kashif khan4 months ago in Fiction