Horror
Haunted pool
“ I don’t really believe in ghosts,” Charlotte said as she munched on some popcorn. “More people die in car accidents than at home, but you never here about haunted cars.” Charlotte was seventeen and visiting her cousin in Las Vegas, Nevada. Her cousin, Cheryl, and her sister, Tonya, joined her on the deck while her Uncle Tony man the BBQ. The girls sat in the sunshine and discussed plans for scary movies later that night.
By Patricia Corn4 years ago in Fiction
Drowning in the nighttime
I often imagine what it would be like to live underwater, but I already know the feeling since I have felt like I am drowning in my own tears before. Gasping for air as I come up in the night, dripping of sweat and cold tears, choking on my own breath. And when it is all over, I find myself sinking back to sleep where the nightmare continues. In my dreams, I see myself stuck between enormous rocks and monstrous algae tugging and tearing at my dress as my blood slowly mixes with the water from the scratches on my skin.
By Wendy Previlon4 years ago in Fiction
Frozen October
Sometimes it surprises her when she remembers that this once was her favorite place in the world. The place she wanted to be, the place she dreamt of, the place she did everything in her power to avoid leaving. Now she’d rather be anywhere else, it’s the centerpiece to her nightmares, and she wishes she were strong enough to not come back. It feels surreal to her, the way that everyone else can still act as though there’s nothing unusual about it here.
By Hailey Marchand-Nazzaro4 years ago in Fiction
The Figure Under a Blanket
When I heard that the lake was haunted, I didn't expect the ghost to look like a figure with a blanket over its head. We'd gotten the tip back in Kentucky, and loaded up into the van. Of course we had Donna, our resident mechanic and the team's muscle. Then there was Larry, the science nerd who could make a bomb out of anything. Jean Paul and Marie, the trained exorcist and resident skeptic respectively. And of course, where would we be without Giovanni di Bicci de' Medici, aka Bick, the tuxedo cat who learned how to talk after one of Jean Paul's exorcisms went wrong.
By Littlewit Philips4 years ago in Fiction
Garden Of Souls
John awoke with a smile on his face and a feeling that all was right with his world. He absolutely adored the new addition to his garden. He enjoyed what he referred to as “his flowers” He had such a variety, all of them beautiful in their own way. He jumped out of bed and got dressed. He just had to see them, had to feel them. They were the only thing in this world that gave him the excitement and satisfaction that he craved. John never could figure out why he never felt any emotions and often wondered why he was born without a soul. You see, that was what he loved about his magnificent garden. Each “flower” had its very own soul, and he believed those souls now belonged to him. So, John set out to the lake behind his house with great enthusiasm to go check on his new addition, he didn’t even bother to take in the beautiful sunrise as it peaked over the mountain or how the lake mirrored the reflection in all its awesome splendor. John stepped off his dock into his canoe and began to row to where he saw the bobber floating. When he reached it, he took a moment to try and calm himself, but the anticipation was driving him insane. John looked past his own reflection into the beautiful eyes of his latest victim. Was it still there? Her soul? Yes!!! She was still alive, still fighting. Oh, what spirit this one had! John really enjoyed the feisty ones, the ones that didn’t give up, the ones that fought till the very end. John found this one at a political rally. She was protesting some noble cause or other, trying to make the world a better place. Not that he cared, it was her beauty first that caught his attention. Her petite frame and physically fit body were superb, along with her stylishly cut brown hair and baby blue eyes, what more could a man ask for? So, imagine his surprise when he walked over to introduce himself, her vivacious character sparked such a hunger in him that he knew he just had to add her to his collection. Tiara was her name and how perfectly it fit her, such a unique name for a unique woman. Such passion and compassion this woman had for life; it was awe inspiring. They talked about everything from children to global warming. John made sure that she was just as smitten with him as he was with her. He was an exceptional conversationalist on a vast number of subjects, along with his boyish good looks it was never hard to reel in his prey. John knew she would say yes when he asked her out for drinks after the rally, and of course she gladly accepted. Tiara followed John back to his lake house for drinks and to continue their intriguing conversation. As John was making her dry martini, he stirred in his own mixture of drugs to incapacitate her and as she downed her vodka, he waited in anticipation for the drugs to take effect. Tiara didn’t remember falling asleep. She was so tired and groggy she couldn’t move. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was meeting this amazing guy at the rally. No, that wasn’t right, she vaguely remembered following… John, yes that was his name. She had agreed to drinks at his place. Why was it so dark? She couldn’t see, couldn’t move, what the hell was going on? Suddenly, she heard footsteps, they were getting closer. Tiara tried to move again and that’s when she realized that something was restraining her. She was tied to a bed and had been blindfolded. Now she was scared and starting to panic. That’s just great she thought. I finally meet the man of my dreams and he turns out to be a freaking psycho. I should have known he was too good to be true. No sooner did the that thought enter her mind she heard a door open. Ah, Tiara I see your awake John said. John could barely contain his excitement. Oh, the wonderful things he had planned. He sat down beside her as she started to thrash and scream at him. Let me go right now! I don’t know what kind of sick jerk you are, but I swear to God if you don’t untie me, when I get my hands on you, I’ll kill you. John placed duct tape over her mouth. He had enough titling conversation for the evening. He proceeded to take his knife and run it softly up and down her body, stopping periodically to cut away her shirt and skirt. He took the time to enjoy the sight in front of him. Perfection, absolute perfection! This would be the most beautiful flower yet. John then took off the blind fold, he wanted her to see what was coming next. He wanted to watch her eyes when the fear took over. The tears had unwillingly started to fall from Tiara’s eyes, but once she saw the needle nose pliers in his hand, she became confused as to what he could possibly need them for. When John grabbed her hand so tight, she felt as though it would break the realization of what was about to happen frightened her as she had never felt before. She began to scream and thrash, trying to free herself from his grip and the restraints but it was of no use. He placed the pliers onto her fingernail and snatched it off. The pain was unbearable, she had never felt pain on this level and thought she might pass out. John just smiled at her misery and then clamped down on the next fingernail. Dear God, NO!! she tried to yell but only muffled screaming came out. This monstrous brutality continued, every single fingernail and toenail were pulled one by one until they were gone. Tiara passed out and awoke to being slapped in the face. She then saw John with a scalpel, his eyes gleaming with an excitement he didn’t bother to try and hide. He began to cut her face. First from her forehead to her chin, then from ear to ear. Oh, the agony! Why? Why are you doing this to me? She couldn’t understand what she could have possibly done to deserve this. Then something unexpected happened, John started sewing her face up. I have something else in mind for you he said. Instead of taking your soul here and then putting you in my garden, I want to see your soul feed my other flowers and watch you give my garden life. He quickly tied her hands and feet together and removed the bed restraints. He carried her to the canoe and rowed her out to his garden of dead bodies in the lake. He tied a chain around her legs and then attached the chain around a brick. He made sure the locks were secure and then he took the duct tape off of Tiara’s mouth. She began to beg and plead with him to please let her go, please don’t kill her. I’m not going to kill you John said, they are. He pointed to the water, and she saw just beneath the surface body after body. No! she cried. You don’t have to do this. I swear if you let me go, I’ll never tell a soul, please I’m begging you don’t do this. John gave her a long hollow reed. He told her that if she could survive the night, then he would release her, but her head would be under the surface and if she wanted to live, she would have to swim with the dead. He knew she wouldn’t make it but oh, to see that spark of determination, that life! What a soul he would reap in this harvest. Then John threw Tiara out of the canoe followed by the brick she was chained to. It brought her just below the surface and he watched her place the reed between her lips and blow water out the top of it. He watched her paddle vigorously with her hands tied together, trying to keep the reed above the water so she could breathe. He paddled over to her and with knife in hand plunged his arms in the water and cut the strap that tied her hands together. Let’s make this interesting John thought. He rowed himself to shore, showered and got ready for bed. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow to see how this amazing story would end. Tiara struggled to keep herself alive. She grabbed the reed and held her breath so she could dive down and see if she could free herself from the chain or brick. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t free herself. As she felt around on the bottom of the lake something cut her finger. She reached again and pulled up a sharp piece of metal. Now all she had to do was stay alive until John came back to check on her. She would make sure he never had the chance to do this to anyone ever again.
By Lekisha Thorp4 years ago in Fiction
Spirits of Dark and Lonely Waters
"Are you listening, Ollie?" called the subconscious voice as the man stood at his bathroom mirror. Ollie stuck a middle-aged hand into the pocket of his wool sweater and took the headache-reliever pills from it to his mouth. He always found himself downing these tablets like candy during the Offering, that once-a-decade event when the ancient voice was at its loudest and hungriest.
By Edmund Barker4 years ago in Fiction
Still Waters
3.41am every morning for the last 40 years. Johanna wakes. At least now it is just from the tears on her cheeks & the remaining heaviness in her heart, no longer the deafening screams. Never sure if they were hers or the memories of her sisters who are now long gone.
By Rachel Lea4 years ago in Fiction
Murky Grave
The rain pelted the windshield in large, angry droplets too fast for the old Chevy’s wipers to keep pace. The full moon was barely visible through the clouds and even the impact from an occasional crack of lightning was minimized by the heavy rain. As a result, the only light in the car’s interior came from the dim glow of the dashboard clock. It was just after 2 AM and Beau felt a pang of unease.
By P. Chiperi4 years ago in Fiction
