Horror

Geistermädchen (Ghost Girl)
A soft scraping, issuing from somewhere, just on the outer side of the bedroom window, skree-eeee, skree-eeee, was just barely audible, but it jolted the girl like a boom. The branches outside of the Eads house had often brushed up against the window, but the pale-blond girl had snapped them off of their parent tree, on the previous day, in preparation for this event. It could not be them.
By Eric Wolf4 years ago in Fiction
A Simple Spell
Thea knelt beside the dead calf and stroked its soft ear. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and buried her face in its fur. She could feel the bones of its starved frame against her cheek.
By MJ Santos4 years ago in Fiction
What was that
Childhood is a time of wonder and excitement, learning, play, and exploration. However, for many, the light of the day brings joy and happiness. The dark of the night brings mystery and even terror. Below are two stories that touch on two childhood fears to drag them out of the deep dark places of our minds. Tonight I bring for your reading terror. Our first tale is titled What was that? The second story of terror is titled Inside my closet. Remember, it is never too late to read with the lights on.
By Chris James4 years ago in Fiction
The night Titanic rose again
April 15, 2022. Midnight by a hidden cove near New York Harbor. There was a lovely full moon out, bathing the Hudson River in a radiant, serene and enchanting glow.
By Novel Allen4 years ago in Fiction
Terror Aboard The Titanic
“Dr.Quill, come quick, the rats! There's something wrong!” “What do you mean something is wrong? We already knew they were sick, Arthur.”
By Stephanie Downard4 years ago in Fiction
Shovel goes in.
The shovel goes in The shovel goes in, and dirt lifts out. The shovel goes in the dirt lifts out. Into the wheelbarrow, you go. Good fresh dirt so full of nutrition for my garden this year. The compost pile worked extra hard this year. The worms are fat, the soil is dark red, and just a pinch of sand plus a few extra ingredients makes my garden the best in town. The shovel goes in the dirt lifts out.
By Chris James4 years ago in Fiction
The Night Rufus Died
1 He was old. He was tired. His existence had become redundant. He was running out of people to be; of lives to live. He had seen it; he had done it. A few times. Human life no longer held any charm or offered any mystery. After walking the earth for 3,000 years, the mundanity and predictability were becoming too much. His desire for continued existence was waning.
By Josh O'Neill4 years ago in Fiction
A Century Underwater
Water, cold, fear. Pain, pressure, paralysis. Shadows, darkness, disbelief. Screaming, crying, surrendering. Defeat.
By Shelby Larsen4 years ago in Fiction
A Fair Exchange
Her memory pounded in my head like a feeling trying to drag me backward in time, the remembered closeness of her embrace and the wet press of her lips on mine surprising me with its intensity.
By John Cox4 years ago in Fiction
The Fetus
Present Day Brian gazed deeply, with glazed, red eyes, into his empty whiskey glass that rest in his hand, on the arm of his chair. The television blared, but he couldn’t hear it. He could only think. He reached for the bottle of bourbon that sat on the side table. He shook the bottle and regretted drinking the whole thing in one sitting. His body flashed with rage and he hurled the whiskey bottle into the TV and it went right through. He stood up to yell at anything that would listen. Anyone he could blame. But when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a sob. And he fell to his knees. And he became lost in his sorrow and his memories.
By Possum4 years ago in Fiction
The Soul Collector
“Everyone, get ready for the blast!” Eric yells out. Dane scans their surroundings. He sees everyone in their places, everyone safe. He turns back to Eric and gives him a thumbs up.
By Stephen Kramer Avitabile4 years ago in Fiction
The Knife Spoke To Her
Mima Sulay slowly made her way to the bedroom. The carpet muted her determined steps. As she walked she wrapped her braided hair into a tight bun, away from her face.
By Funke Konrad4 years ago in Fiction