Horror
Cartridge
The pistol blast filled the air with a lurid, startling noise. Tim's muscles contracted and pushed, feeling at once strange and exhilarating. His legs heaved, to and fro, up and down like a marching band. He felt his lungs gasping, the oxygen pouring through his mouth and diffusing across his membranes. The oxygenated blood pumped through his rigorous, corded muscles and he found himself propelling down the lane of the McMahon Stadium track. He couldn't tell where his competitors were, everything else was a blur, feeling at once inconsequential. He continued to run, pushing with everything he could.
By Taylor Edwards4 years ago in Fiction
Surge Of Insanity
The silver badge gleamed at me in the dim light and I blinked to clear my thoughts. I was sitting on the curb in front of Mr. Neeson’s house, staring at the asphalt street. A police officer was hovering above me, holding out his badge and yelling something, but I couldn’t hear anything. I could still see the horror that was in the house behind me. Let me explain myself a little, my name is Mackenzie Thomas and I’ve been sentenced to 20 plus years in a correctional facility. Why, you ask. I’ve been accused of killing my best friends.
By Cassandra Kildow4 years ago in Fiction
The Psychological Rumor
Here it is getting dark and I am stuck out in the middle of a lake that I just had to be at. My wife warned me about coming here but me being me couldn’t stomach the thought of Eddie Larsons having better ghost stories than me. I have always been a ghost fanatic and when Eddie joined the local paranormal team and had the attention of everyone in town including my wife, I just knew I had to take action.
By Saige Adora 4 years ago in Fiction
If I Die By Choice
I've learned a lot in my twenty years of life; things like how to read, and how to fight, and how to speak multiple languages-- the basics, really. There's also the more unconventional topics, like how to harness ancient and forgotten powers, and how to utilize the innate supernatural abilities that exist in the 'real world'. It-- that unconventional education-- might've been a regional thing, or maybe a family thing. All I really know about it all is what I was taught, what I learned, and what I grew up doing. All of that is just to say that I know things, I've seen things-- I'm a self proclaimed expert on most things un-freakin'-believable.
By l.j. swann4 years ago in Fiction
Mulberry Manor
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Melted wax along with a blood red liquid began to drip to the floor. A dark figure creeped down the stairs and slowly approached the candle. The figure dipped its thin finger into the bloody wax, and with longing, initialed the letter “M” onto the cabin window. Then there was a weak whisper from upstairs “I…am…I am…”. Before the distant voice could finish, the sun began to peak through the mulberry trees and onto the lake. As light reflected from the lake to the cabin window the candle, the figure, and whispering disappeared, leaving behind a blood red “M”.
By B. Celestine 4 years ago in Fiction
The Fog
The fog came rolling over the small black pond covering the surface of the glassy water with tendrils of gray haze. Fingers of fog fondled the water’s surface as if searching for a way in. The fog seemed to block out all sound as easily as it did sight. No slurping of water upon the edges of the land can be heard. No creaking of the raft that floated lazily upon the water. No cricket trying to impress his mate. It was as if the fog had rolled in and claimed the inky pond for itself.
By Tamara McNeill4 years ago in Fiction
