Horror

The day the river misted over
One fateful morning will forever stay with me, it will form my outlook on life for probably the rest of my existence. It haunts me.
By Sarah remus4 years ago in Fiction
Carving Pumpkins
I cut into the pumpkin’s flesh, taking off the top. I scoop out the seeds and guts. This part always creeped me out as a kid. It felt like what I imagined intestines would feel like. My brother would take a bite of the innards, pretending to be a zombie. My mom liked to collect the seeds to make snacks.
By Lauren Triola4 years ago in Fiction
Clip That
Miles could still hear those last words, the splash echoing against acoustic concrete, then his wet foot prints slopping away. He could hear it because it had been clipped from a live stream and rebroadcast on every major news network for the last four hours. As he sat at the bar and tried to blend in, all he could think about was how he never knew who “@Socratesdeez” was or why his friend had so carelessly abused him and the loosely bound friendship he thought they had.
By Chris4 years ago in Fiction
Swamp Girl
The killing was happening again. I knew it was going to happen, but I didn’t think it would start again so soon. Laila was the first to come back. The swamp had finally regurgitated whatever was left of her, and they asked me to identify her. I don’t know how they expected me to give them an answer based off of a pile of mush, but the singular star tattoo with the ugly lotus flower in the middle, was enough for me to know that the pile of bones, and detached yellow skin on the table was indeed Laila Hill. Nobody knew the black, kinky, haired girl with dimples. She didn’t have family, and the only friends she had were her coworkers. She wasn’t at the forefront of anyone’s mind. When her remains resurfaced, the world didn’t stop. Nobody batted an eye. There wasn’t a flicker in the morale of the town. It was news, and all news went away eventually. They had found a new swamp girl.
By Kayla Jefferson4 years ago in Fiction
The Woman in the Attic
Dear Richard, I am so filled with joy! I am finally a married woman. I am a wife! There is so much to look forward to. One day we will be a more prominent family, and I will raise children with Edward. He will make a good father. I think I will be delighted here with Edward. He dresses me in the finest clothes and jewelry. He says that a Rochester should be seen in the best clothes. The house is lovely, albeit cold. It is not what I am used to, but the land holds a certain beauty. The soil keeps secrets from thousands of years and generations of Rochester. Now, I will be remembered in the echoes of the property as Mrs. Bertha Rochester. How Exciting! A new start and a new life, what a joy to have. Come and visit sometime. I would love to show you around and share parts of my new life. Please let me know how life is like back at home.
By Miss Ghoul4 years ago in Fiction
Welcome to Hidden Lakes
DING! The convenience store bell chimes as Tess shuffles towards the abandoned street corner. Her pitted eyes dart back and forth. Shaking, her feeble hands tightly grip two large paper grocery bags. The pitter-patter of her heartbeat matches the rapid tapping of her foot. She stares uneasily at the crosswalk sign, anticipating the change. A haunting chill slithers up her spine. Whipping her head side to side, she checks over both shoulders.
By Bianca Shaw4 years ago in Fiction
Fluke
Hold it! I think it’s some kind of fluke. I hate to be rude, but could you just shut up and listen? If I’m right, we don’t have much time.
By Dave Ruskjer4 years ago in Fiction
The Spooky Night Episode 5: Peeling an apple at the midnight
Ichika glances at the black-cat clock, Neko, on the dressing table. In Japanese superstition, a black cat will bring a single woman more suitors.
By Bond Wang4 years ago in Fiction
Cassy
I startle awake to a knock on my bedroom door. With hazy eyes I slowly sit up in bed and stare at it. There is a slight pause before the next round of light taps, almost as light as a feather. I glance at the window. The silver mist of the moon’s gleam seep through the blinds and stripes the floor. The door handle starts to jiggle. Back and forth, back and forth. My heart begins to beat faster. The door handle stops moving. A pause. Three more light taps.
By Elizabeth Krantz4 years ago in Fiction
The Murder On The Lake
.“Come on, Vivian,” said a young girl with curls to last days as she walked kind in a swaying motion as they walked and crawled down the path of the lake smiling as the moonlight her blue eyes and her patchwork skin that had so many freckles lacing it you would have thought she was just a lot of constellations cohering.
By Victorian Black 4 years ago in Fiction
Chookie Karma
“Kindness is its own reward, so the saying goes, but what the sages forget to tell us is there is always someone standing nearby with a tally sheet recording every unkind act, you betcha. And that someone is called Karma!”
By Anne van Alkemade4 years ago in Fiction
Still On Patrol...
It's been a long time since our sub last reported in to HQ. Seafarers are a superstitious lot, always have been. Sometimes I wonder; did we always know what was out there? Even before It was discovered, and shrouded in so much secrecy that even Heads of State aren't told, did some animal instinct left over from our early ancestors tell us that there was something out there to be feared? Something that saw us as prey; something eternal, and other, and dangerous.
By Natasja Rose4 years ago in Fiction