Horror
What I Found in the Cave
“Where on earth did this come from?” I gaze at the glowing knife stuck in the rocks of the cave. It outshines the light of my flashlight and forces me to squint. Nothing electrical seems to be attached to it, no wiring. Is this some kind of sick joke?
By Thomas Czernek4 years ago in Fiction
The Creature in the Deep
It was a foggy night, and I was driving down to try and visit my sick mother. I was making some good progress until the fog picked up. It became so thick I couldn’t even see a foot in front of me. I was able to see a sign indicating that I was near an inn. With that in mind I tried my best to make my way to the building. Once I had reached my destination the fog was lessened from the lights of the building. I quickly began to grab my belongings and head towards the building. I was then stopped by a noise, unsure of what I was hearing I looked around in hopes of a sign of anyone or anything. But I was not surprised when there was nothing to be seen through the foggy night. I got myself checked in and once again on my way to the room I heard it, this time it was clearer than before. It sounded like a young girl whimpering in the shadows.
By Jessica Shapiama 4 years ago in Fiction
The end is nigh
Since the dawn of books and television, people have predicted how the world would end. Zombies, vampires, and viruses were the biggest contenders. Stories were woven around these ideas. Movies and series made in abundance, but that is what they were; only stories.
By Itika rain4 years ago in Fiction
Reign of Terror
Tabitha followed the familiar road winding up the side of the mountain towards the lab. A rock wall scaled upwards towards the sky on her left and to the right, a sheer drop down to the ocean, large rocks sneering from the crashing waves. To anyone else it would have been a terrifying drive and the feeling of being stuck would render them stiff, but to Tabitha, it was the beauty of the water that captured her attention every day. The crystalline sea stretched out to the horizon, meeting a vibrant orange sun as it made its way up from the abyss. Clouds were met with the fresh light and painted in varying shades of purples, pinks, and blues.
By Kristina George4 years ago in Fiction
The Valley of Oaxaca
There was a time I found peace in the windblown silence of an open prairie. I've calloused my hands at all manner of work – I've cowpunched across Texas and the southwest, bulldogged in Oklahoma, and I'd be a liar if I denied havin' covered my face more than once to rob a rich man's stagecoach or to rustle horses. But I ain't never done no harm to anyone that didn't have it comin', I suppose, and I never left a place havin' made an enemy. Never stayed around long enough to make 'em, neither. But I have made some friends during all of my years on the trail, in ranch bunkhouses, and in mischief, and I've heard plenty of stories and yarns, some spun so well, they would leave you fit to be tied. Sometimes, even I tell a story or two about my wanderin' from place to place – but there's one I've never told until now. It's about how I no longer find peace when I feel a cold prairie wind on my neck. It's about why I now feel a prickling kind of fear coldly slipping over me when I hear the sound of the wild suddenly die down, and silence washes over the dark open range after the sun goes down. It's a story of the night I shared a campfire with a dead man in the Oaxaca Valley, and how ever since, I've never been caught out under the stars after dark again.
By Kruse Christopher4 years ago in Fiction
