Horror

Blood spilled
A loud bang at the door forcefully awakens Todd from his slumber. Sat bolt upright he hazily scans the hotel room looking for signs of life or snippets of information from last night’s events. Head pounding, breath stinking of a booze-and-cigarette cocktail, the trashed room offers no hope of recollection. If a tornado had hit last night it would have left less mess. Bloodied clothes were strewn across the floor, the wardrobe was on one side and the curtains had been pulled down in a last-minute act of defiance. His first thought was the credit card bill he would have to pay, another expensive night in New York City.
By Will Garwood4 years ago in Fiction
The Frozen Pond
Winter took its time this year, and settled in light, comfortable layers instead of a heavy, weighted blanket. The gentle slopes of the valley, once green and vibrant in the peak of summertime, were swathed in white like a freshly frosted cake. The pond at the heart of the valley froze solid, glinting in the winter sunlight. Once teeming with leaping frogs and fluttering dragonflies, it too snuggled into the soft embrace of winter.
By M. Ostl4 years ago in Fiction
Shedder
Shredder was a Black Pomeranian. Being a terror, there was not an ankle that was safe in New Orleans if she was around. The Terror needed a walk, and she made a fuss to her owner Xyizan. The Necromancer finished putting the powder she had made into an Amulet of Protection. She placed it with the others for sale.
By Mark Stigers 4 years ago in Fiction
Jiggle Jangle. Top Story - July 2021.
Back when I was a little girl, around the age of eight, I think I would spend the night at my grandparents’ house whenever my parents worked late or needed some quiet time away. I loved going over to their house and spending the night. Hell, I think I asked every week to stay over, and I usually did. Being a parent now, I can understand why my parents appreciated some alone time away from me.
By Joseph T Stenberg4 years ago in Fiction
The Hearing of Maria Juliana
Liliana came into the Capitan del barrio’s house to file a complaint against Maria Juliana. She insisted she had caught her creeping like theft under her ramshackle hut. She had terrified them.
By M.G. Maderazo4 years ago in Fiction
The Zombie Apocalypse Aquarium
“I have an idea on where we can get some additional food sources,” Jared says. He’s been worrying today about our food situation, because the simple reality is we can’t go to the grocery store much longer before the food there will go bad.
By Taylor Ellwood4 years ago in Fiction
Ghosts of the Midnight Hour
Warning: The following story is very graphic. This content is not meant to be consumed by children and if you are easily frightened, you probably should not continue. This story is a work of fiction and is not based on any real events.
By Logan Donahue4 years ago in Fiction
Stalk
THE PARK WAS QUIET, SAVE FOR A FEW BIRDS STILL RESTLESSLY CHIRPING. It sounded like maybe there was a raccoon rooting through the trash. It was the only place that she could think to bring him. He promised he wasn’t going to freak out. The background noise of rock music could be heard back at the trailer park. The streetlight was flickering.
By Nathan Charles4 years ago in Fiction
Only Human
“All stop,” Captain DiQuesto barked. “All stop, Aye,” Lieutenant Commander Shepherd answered. “Let’s see what’s on the T.V.,” DiQuesto said.
By David R Bishop4 years ago in Fiction
Beneath the Foundation
The evening after my wife’s funeral, Death knocked on my door. My mistake was in scoffing at the cape and scythe with a humorless bite. “Nice prank,” I wanted to say, but something about the black-clad guest on my porch stopped me.
By Daniel Okulov4 years ago in Fiction
Thursdays
I always hated Thursdays more than any day of the week. Most people hate Mondays the most, but Mondays were at least miserable for reasons you would expect. Thursdays were just the crack on the sidewalk that tripped you before Friday. I never complained though. I was always the type to smile when I didn’t feel like smiling, small talk when I didn’t feel like small talking, and to “pull up my bootstraps” even when the straps were broken.
By Tiara Morris4 years ago in Fiction
The Darkness That Lurks
Those eyes. I could feel them piercing through the darkness. The invisible stare felt like a pair of hands snaking out from the source. I could feel those invisible hands, they slithered over the hills and valleys of my comforter until they touched me. Those ice cold hands curled around my body as if to crush the life out of me. The fang-like fingers reached up to grip my throat and began to dig into my skin, making it hard to breathe. It was as if the abyss was personified; the anxiety alone threatened to suffocate me the longer the standstill went on. Sweat began to cover my palms and my eyes darted over to my bedside lamp. I had made up my mind that the only way to escape this dread was to illuminate the darkness. Would I be quick enough to turn on my lamp before whatever was in the dark could strike? I braced myself and turned as quickly as I could toward my lamp. Hand outstretched, it felt as if the darkness was rushing toward me- my eyes shot open as I gasped for air. I was covered in a cold sweat as I looked around my room. It was now dawn, and the room had slightly brightened. It was only a dream?
By Kaylee Anderson4 years ago in Fiction