Horror

Date Night Cannabilisim
The story takes place with a man who is going on a date. He looked so fine dressed up in a black trench coat with brown camel boots, carrying a cigar in his one hand and a bottle of wine as he entered the restaurant. Alas! he was enjoying his vibes until the waiter came and said wine's not allowed here; he smirked at the waiter threw the bottle as it was empty, and with his spoiled mood, he sat at a table with a nice view. Near him was a group of girls sitting. He saw a woman with gorgeous blonde hair in a restaurant; it seemed like she was with her friends for dinner. They were so amused by the restaurant's ambiance and having a good time until he realized that she didn't order anything. While the guy was having his meal, they had accidental eye contact. While the guy was in deep thought about why the girl didn't order any food, a waiter came by with molten lava in his tray. Upon asking, the waiter pointed towards the girl and said, " madam ordered this for you," what a nice gesture it was. She passed him a smile, and he responded with shimmering eyes.
By Sean D 4 years ago in Fiction
The Statue That Knows
Molten metal. With a temperature of 2750 °F, one drop would slide through your skin, cooking the veins and organs inside your body in an instant. Carefully, I lowered the crane down, hooking to the steel ladle which carries 330 tons of melted aluminum. My line partner Chris and I guided the container over to the castings. Today's order is flag poles commissioned by the city of Detroit. Even with the aluminized PPE, and high heat face shielding, the intense energy radiating off the glowing metal liquid is still furiously hot as we slowly poured into the sand moldings.
By Charlie Conlon4 years ago in Fiction
How To Summon a Beast
In a flurry of tears and shouts, the rain fell. It battered the sidewalk until every cigarette for two miles washed down a storm drain. Most slept soundly during thunderstorms, but the rain made Elijah’s skin crawl as if every pitter-patter was made of dropped needles, every rumble a dead man's moan. How was anyone to sleep in this?
By Chelsey Louise4 years ago in Fiction
BECOMING A SHADOW'S EYES
Auguste and his bonded partner were rinsed with warm water and sanitized in all-white spacious compartment before being thrown in a metal dome-shaped tent with the others. There they waited for instructions or fate, whichever came first, the participants had no choice but to wait. After all, their lives where no longer their own. The Vile guards that had beckon for them where replaced with different soldiers and those men where just as treacherous. The children’s back where to lean on the cold walls, not to speak or move too much while this new head soldier waited for directions from the capital. Auguste heard the main entrance open and the silhouette of a man in uniform sauntered into view. “Winston.” The man acknowledges the chieftain. “Secretary, what pleasure to see you here,” Winston responded. “Yes. Yes.” His voice drained. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting Winston, you know how it gets over there. It must always be carefully formulated to achieve the accomplishments we deserve.” “No worries.” Winston said. “It’s all here. They are to dress up in Prussian blue for their interview with him.”
By Jennifer Benoit4 years ago in Fiction
Resonance
Katie placed her paintbrush down into the paint stained wooden box that sat beside her after thoroughly cleaning it and let out a satisfied sigh. A portrait of a smiling family of four with an autumn backdrop done in oil paint still glistened in the light of the setting sun that streamed through the windows of her studio apartment. She felt completely satisfied with the finished piece and she couldn't wait to deliver it to the family that had commissioned her to do it.
By Luci Allen4 years ago in Fiction
The Stranger
He’s been following me all day. He was standing outside my house when I was brushing my teeth this morning. He was watching me when I started walking to school. And he was there at recess.
By Wyatt Arment4 years ago in Fiction
Bigfoot and the Boy Scout
Myah heard a twig snap behind her, off-trail in the woods. Could be a deer, she thought. Mountain Lion? No. Stop being paranoid, she told herself. She tapped the bear spray attached to her belt. If it’s a cougar, you won’t see it coming until it’s on top of you and that bear spray won’t be of any use, she told herself.
By Wednesday Madouk4 years ago in Fiction
Hook, Line, and Dinner
No one paid any attention to the first poster. Not the second, either. The third turned some heads, but it was the fourth that finally got the attention of the local news.
By Caitlin Britton4 years ago in Fiction
History Mustn't Repeat Itself
Delaehla: Imogen Simone Boehm was born on April 12th 1929, the German child had been the first, and only daughter to the Maximilian Theodore Degen, however she was the illegitimate bastard of a love affair with an actress named Magdalene Bianca Boehm, a famous German opera singer during the height of the Third Reich. Imogen's father was a renown scientist who was a part of the esteemed Deutsche Physik scientists. Imogen lived a tumultuous existence, and the girl often had to remain hidden from her mother's countless suitors, and sordid love affairs. It was with some degree of luck that at age 13 her mother happened upon one gentlemen who found that the young Imogen was quite the pretty young lady, and could soon follow in her mother's footsteps. Magdalene, however, was a slightly unstable woman mentally whom had come to rely heavily upon methamphetamines, and Russian Vodka. Upon hearing that her daughter might be on the up-and-coming she grew very envious and began shouting accusations, and insinuations at Imogen. It was her belief that girl must be trying to win over or steal away her attentions. Magdalene was a notoriously vain woman, and insanely jealous when need be. Even towards her own daughters.
By Sai Marie Johnson4 years ago in Fiction
He Who Comes At Night
Standing atop a snow drift peak, I looked down upon the hellish valley, and watched as the earth cracked open and released plumes of technicolored smoke into the air. I was too late. On a stone plateau my mentor stood with hands raised to the heavens, as hell spewed from the ground. I must warn the King. I must warn… everyone.
By Charlie Conlon4 years ago in Fiction
It Has Human Teeth
It has human teeth and there’s something wrong with its eyes. No one believes me when I say that it lives in my curtains. No one checks when I ask them to. No one takes a stick and beats the fabric to force it out.
By Cerys Latham4 years ago in Fiction
The Story of #2,435
Log: #3,285 Name: #2,435 Date: December 18th, 2001 For the last nine years, I have been keeping this journal. However, I recently realized that our way of life isn't usual. If they find this journal, I will be killed; however, I am hoping someone reads it before they do. Fourteen years ago, the government kidnapped me. I am number 2,435 of 63,035. We live in bunkers just outside Maine's borders; however, these bunkers are underground and I cannot tell you the exact location because it will put us in danger.
By E.G.4 years ago in Fiction