Horror
Still Waters Run Deep
Everyone loves a good ghost story, at least when they are safe and warm in their bed. It is easy to enjoy a scare when you know it is just the product of someone's imagination. However, when you are surrounded by a mystery that no one will believe, it is less than enjoyable. In fact it is downright terrifying. The small community of Southdale found themselves surrounded by a dark mystery in the summer of 1984. This is their story. I found this twisted tale in some old newspaper articles I came across while doing research for my next book. I became mesmerized and maybe a little obsessed with what I discovered on that old microfiche. So I hunted down the leads that were presented in the articles and did some more digging of my own. What I dug up was haunting and too intriguing of a story to not pass it on. This ghost story is a little different than the usual tales of men with hook hands and headless horsemen. It is laid out for you here, in the form of my research and excerpts from the original newspaper articles that sparked my curiosity.
By Mikey Lane, MS, LPC, Energy Healer, Medium4 years ago in Fiction
Yollotl
It is the early morning of one cold day in the tail end of the winter. Human skin was not meant to bear the burning sensation, clawing at the fingertips, numbing the expression. The breeze is erratic, flowing through every crevice, creating a chant that resonates through natural and manmade structures alike. Every inch of the Ti'tsa-pa is frozen.
By Alan Alanis4 years ago in Fiction
The Tale of the Wenzelwerf
“Cold again” she thought, as she snatched the heavy gray house coat down that hung from her bed post. She promptly wrapped the house coat tightly around her body, tying the gray cloth belt into a firm knot, as if the strength of the belt would prevent any more heat from escaping her body. “Always cold” she thought, as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. A wave of shivers began creeping their way through her small body just as she settled into a sitting position. She hastily reached for the pair of matching gray slippers that sat waiting for her barely sticking from underneath the bed, soft and warm inside the slipper warmer. In their carefully positioned place at the bottom of the old wooden bedpost. With a wide yawn she hurriedly slid one foot after the other into the welcoming warmth of the slippers. Raising her fisted hands in the air, she stretched allowing the thoughts of an eventless morning to run wild in her mind. She smiled as she allowed herself to fall softly back onto the bed. The sultriness from the slippers rushed through her, sending the chill of the morning air fleeing from her body.
By Marketta Qasim4 years ago in Fiction
Mother Callie
Cerise Brighton and Benson Highcastle were partners. They had both been recruited by the Broadsword organization for their specific skills and talents. As field agents their mission was to hunt. Once the target was acquired the objective varied from elimination, to capture, to observation, etc; it depended on who, or what, was being hunted. Earlier that morning they had met with Horme for the details of their latest assignment; elimination of a Mother.
By Catherine Langenkamp4 years ago in Fiction
Of Cog Railways and Witches
We got to the cog rail station 15 mins before departure to make the hour long journey up Pikes Peak. You’d think we weren’t meant to go because of the hassle that it took to get there. We left with enough time to spare, or so we thought. Our Airbnb was roughly an hour and a half away from Pikes Peak and the GPS indicated that traffic was clear. Getting to Manitou Springs was a breeze. It was getting through this small community that presented issues.
By Jameeka Douglas4 years ago in Fiction
The Black Witch
She lit an old candle in the carved turnip, and placed it by the cracked window, causing shadows to dance across the log walls. She squinted through the glass. A cold wind was pushing dying red leaves across the stone path. It was getting late! She'd heard whispers of a mandatory town meeting. Dressing in layers, she hoped to ward off the cold, and the gazes of her unfriendly neighbors. She knew what they would be discussing tonight...She knew that it was time to finally make her move.
By Chere Roshawn Hampton4 years ago in Fiction
Surviving A Haunted Appointment
“You have reached your destination.” The GPS took me to this abandoned, worn down house that looked like it was here for ages. The house was leaning, the doors and windows were blocked off, and the wood was peeling off. Seriously, just looking at it could give you a splinter, let alone touching it. The trees surrounding the house were bare with no leaves on it and the grass was unkempt and yellow. There was no sign of life anywhere around the house. And why was this the only house around here with a gray sky above it and a murder of crows flying around? It screamed horror movie witch house.
By Creative Girl4 years ago in Fiction
