Horror

All Our Times Have Come
“Oh, honey. Are you hurt?” Helen held out her weathered hand, moving carefully. The girl shook as she stared at the body sprawled on the cement between them. Blood pooled slowly around her sneakers as it seeped from the man, melting and absorbing the thin layer of fresh snow where it traveled. A smear of red trailed down her nose and across her lips, dripping from her chin and under the torn neck of her sweater. Helen stepped around the unmoving body and reached slowly for her.
By Meredith Lee4 years ago in Fiction
The Shayāṭīn
I woke up to the strong smell of salt in the air and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I was laying face down in the sand and my clothes were soaking wet. I turned over and saw the white foamy water left behind by a wave crashing on the shore of a beach. I understood the salty smell, but why did my mouth taste like blood? I wiped my sandy hand on my shorts and swished my finger around in my mouth, but to my surprise it left no sign of blood.
By Ben Norman4 years ago in Fiction
Seventh
The door closes gently behind her as Scarlett pauses at the beginning of the stairs. The pitch-black flight becomes illuminated by candles, one in a large, elegant gold crusted wall sconce next to the door, six on a tall stand in the middle landing, and another, large and fused to the final post before the hallway below. The old and crooked stair with torn carpet and gaps in the floorboards is one of two entrances into the bottom rooms. Although, no other soul than her, alive, knew of the second. She glances at the candle beside her face as it flickers in appreciation for its awakening. Her mouth curls tightly, the warmth of the flame kisses her cheek. The stairs creak as she makes her way down to the lower rooms. Scarlett stops a moment and turns towards the stand on the landing, and bows her head, ‘tonight,’ she whispers and looks at the candles as they dance before her. She picks up a book from beside the waxed light dancers, a picture falls from the pages. Quickly, Scarlett reaches out her hand in front. As if in answer, the image curves around and lands in her palm. Two young women, herself and one other, are sitting on a tree swing with a large house in the background, both women in each other’s arms, basking in the love of the moonlight. Placing the photo back into the now opened page of the book, she strokes the image of the second woman, ‘soon,’ she chokes as she closes the book and pulls it in close to her heart. Scarlett clears her throat and wipes her dampened face before she travels down further towards the thick air of the hallway. Again, the lights are awakened at the bottom of the steps welcoming the beautiful woman with a spark.
By Bec4 years ago in Fiction
Ancient Evil
The shadows of the cave shrouded Elena. The darkness crept into her mind as she made her way forward, only a small lighter in hand to guide her. Her heart thumped and pounded heavily with each step. She covered her face as the smell of brimstone grasped her nostrils. She only knew to move forward and she could do nothing else. She heard a whisper from behind her. She turned to see nothing there. Footsteps skittered from her left but nothing could be seen. Silence overtook the cavern. She raised her lighter to see a little further ahead of her, her hand shaking profusely. She squinted as she saw a shape in front of her. A man stood, hunched over, facing the wall. She wanted to turn heel and run, but she wasn’t in control. She took a step closer and paused. One more step, then another, before she was within an arm’s length. He was unmoving. Elena was unsure if he was even breathing. She raised her empty hand to place it on his shoulder. He turned slowly and his face became visible in the firelight. His skin was rotten and peeling. His teeth were yellow and shattered. And his eyes glowed a malicious blood-red hue. He screeched and lunged for Elena before she woke with a shudder, falling out of her hammock onto the sandy floor with a thud.
By Joel Greer4 years ago in Fiction
TUNE IN.
Crystal North Portfolio Revision 12/09/19 Tune In: Revised No one questioned the motives of the Television being the end-all to humanity, but I did. I hated everything about them. How they worked, how they operated, and even down to the way that they processed after being used for a short time. Humans live and die by their electronics, whether it be their cell phones, television, smartwatches, microwaves, toys, drones, and other electronics. The first encounter with these deadly machines was the television. It was a dreary Sunday morning when I was lying in bed reading a book and working on my latest article for The Fabled Times when my sister Zoriah came in with this massive brown box.
By Crystal North4 years ago in Fiction
Within
Go on…you’ll be fine…touch it The snake’s fangs shut on my hand and suddenly I lay flat on my back. It was dark. No there was light, but it wasn’t lit. Like a night with no moon. How did I get here? Where was my sister? Had that even been my sister? Am I awake? Am I dreaming? I’m scared. I don’t know where I am. Nothing hurts but I remember the bite. Why did I do that? I just – I just –
By J.A. Black 4 years ago in Fiction
Tangeum Lake
Kim su ho and kang min ah went on a late night date in a abandoned farmhouse of su ho's ancestors in the middle of tangeum lake. That farmhouse was known for its horrific existence.
By Shreyasi Mondal4 years ago in Fiction
She Who Sees
The elevator jolted down, prompting a yelp from its sole inhabitant. The woman’s hand clutched the rail, and she caught her dead-eyed reflection staring back through the mirror. Dark circles covered her eyes and she counted four wrinkles on her forehead. She sighed. A loud clank snapped her attention back and she saw the elevator doors jamming open. Just as she exited, the doors slammed shut behind her. She glanced back, wondering what would have happened if she was one second slower. “Fuckin’ cheapskate,” she cursed the stingy landlord and shitty apartment. Nearing her unit, the hallway reeked of rotten wood. Honestly, how much could it cost to just fix things around here?
By The Uncreative Writer4 years ago in Fiction
Broken Cobblestones
I spotted him across the tavern from where I sat on another man’s lap. He was unshaven and inebriated; my arm draped around his neck as he continued to empty his tankard. His name was something like William or Walter, anyway he was a regular. The man at the bar was still wearing his overcoat and sat hunched over his drink. The light of the gas lamps flickered in his grey eyes as they carefully scanned the room.
By Nychele Kemper4 years ago in Fiction
Hell Hath No Fury
30 October 1588 Dear Diary, I’ve always loved Trier this time of year. The way the colors shift into warmer hues despite the brisk air, the bustle of the marketplace, how the Mosel River borders the region like a glistening snake – it’s all so wonderful. Our move from the countryside last year into the city was a highly anticipated one – even though the amount of people here is a bit overwhelming. I’ve made a lot of new friends who have made the transition easier. They’ve taught me so much and I’m grateful for their friendship. They’ve helped me better understand the life I want for myself. Have helped me take my future into my own hands.
By Kat Helmick4 years ago in Fiction
The House
My wife and I had decided it was time for a change. We drove to a new town a few hours away to look at a house that we had seen advertised for sale, but it didn't suit our needs. We decided to look around the town for other opportunities; it seemed like a nice quiet town. Spotting an older-looking man in a tan overcoat hammering a sign into the ground, we thought to take a look. As we drove slowly past the house, I peered out my window to catch all of the details. A tall oak stood proudly with a wooden swing swaying in the wind from one of its branches while the red and yellow leaves danced in swirling motions.
By Tiggerish Eeyore (Aaron Wood)4 years ago in Fiction
The Man in the Pines
1921 “What do we do with him?” Jackson asked, looking down at the body of Marcus Gentry. “Take him up to Dillygull and plant him in the ground. No one will look for him out there,” Ross growled, looking around the room.
By A.W. Naves4 years ago in Fiction