Horror
Prelude - Part III
The undersea grotto was warm and humid. Skarrigg still felt the pressure of being this far underwater and it gave him a low grade, yet still very unpleasant, headache. He stood there surrounded by a dozen piscine-like humanoids, they had stood at least a half foot taller than the average human male, but were far heavier, with thick muscular frames, That were covered in blue-green scales. They had come at him with claws outstretched and jagged fangs bared. However, they had come at him as a mob, a fatal mistake on their part, as he had torn through them like a hot knife through butter.
By Michael Mayr4 years ago in Fiction
Blindman's Breakfast
Chapter three: A Plan Is Set De La Ronde's preoccupation with these thoughts, never, of course, at the expense of counting paving stones, street lanterns, or listening to traffic, was suddenly brought to an end by a particular footfall ahead. It was her. He was certain of it. He edged closer, fifteen, then ten feet, and the scent of the woman confirmed it. She was walking leisurely toward Brennan's.
By Mark Newell4 years ago in Fiction
Ghost Hospital
Jasper didn’t believe in the Holy Ghost, so how could people expect him to believe in a regular ghost. Yet the conversation with the old woman left him feeling unnerved. Really more like a sideshow gypsy telling a fortune than a homeless woman asking for change. Honestly, who else would say such a thing, “spirits gather for a meeting with you.”
By Cyrus Emerson4 years ago in Fiction
Haunted painting
A story told by the owner of a website with a place dedicated to true stories that happened to readers. Sean Robin tells his grandmother to keep the painting in her attic for 25 years and it contains a drawing of a screaming man, and she told them they should not come near it because it has an evil demonic band, when she was hanging it in her house she used to see a black ghost of a man roaming around The house and you hear strange sounds and crying, and the grandmother also told them that the painter who painted the painting mixed his blood with the oil colors with which he painted the painting, and committed suicide as soon as it was finished.
By Samara Ben4 years ago in Fiction
Duskwood: Into the Forest Pt 10
You make your way out of the cellar and onto the dark streets. Lanterns and string lights dangle from lampposts and businesses. Flashy posters advertise the Pine Glade Festival hours and events. The festival is set to kick off at noon tomorrow, with a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the center of town. Afterward, there would be street vendors, food, games, and live music.
By Gorejess Stone4 years ago in Fiction
Confessions From The Recession
Confessions From The Recession Season 1 Episode 8 “The Charismatic Children Organization” Staring at the bronze statue that was erected in the front of the high school where Chapman graduated from last century the former success story reflected back to when he was being toasted by his hometown after making them proud.
By Marc OBrien4 years ago in Fiction
As Well As Entertain You, The Gothic Will Help You Develop Your Critical Thinking And Overcome Your Fears
The first time I approached my language students with some Gothic texts I was nicely surprised by their reactions. For me the Gothic has always been my hidden place, my dark secret, something that only belonged to me and that I only really showed during Halloween.
By Alice in Gothic Land4 years ago in Fiction
Dreamer - Chapter 37
The ride home had been quiet. Rev had mostly kept his gaze out on the open road. He leaned his right hand against the steering wheel, while his left was held up against the window. The trees whizzed past as if we were racing them towards the house; whoever made it back first, wins. The closer we got towards my home, the fewer cars showed on the road. I'll probably never get used to life in the middle of nowhere; what the hell was my father thinking when he found this place? To break the awkward silence, I just pulled out my phone. Rev said earlier to make this technology-free.. but hey, I make my own choices now.
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet4 years ago in Fiction
Millers Forest
A gusting westerly tossed and bustled the willows as they struggled to form a guard of honour along a two hundred metre stretch of Raymond Terrace Rd. The sun scorched the earth in anger, melting the bitumen road and causing recently filled potholes to become sticky black puddles. Heat waves danced above the road distorting as they obscured, while the needle rocketed into the red zone taking his temper along for the ride.
By D.A. Cairns4 years ago in Fiction
Hunter's Moon
She could still smell him on her. That sweet, musky scent told her she was his. His to play with, his to mark, his to hunt but not tonight, tonight he was hers. She inhaled deeply, shivering at the thought of what he’d done to her—her skin tingling in anticipation even now—and what she would do to him when she caught him. It was still a few minutes away: sunset. It always set her teeth on edge these days.
By C.A. McKinney4 years ago in Fiction
Why Did You Leave Me?
It’s was always this letter. It is always Victoria that haunted my dreams. I ran my fingers gently across the page. I was afraid that I might tear it from reading it so many times. It had become almost unreadable. I'd kept it in my wallet. I wanted it close to me so that I can feel close to her.
By Jennifer S. Benson 4 years ago in Fiction
