Horror

A Barn and a Blessing
“Anyone that lives to one hundred and eighteen is a witch,” Judy said plainly. “That’s my great-great-grandmother you’re talking about,” Steven replied blowing into his cupped hands, “I should’ve worn gloves,” he added absently.
By Clint Jones5 years ago in Fiction
The White Barn
I came to my grandparent's house for good at the age of five. If you're not familiar with childhood trauma, no worries, you don't have to pretend. I'll just leave all that mess by saying that being a child of neglect and abuse can make it difficult to relate. It's like I don't possess the "MS DOS" baseline programming; and finally, for as long as I can remember I've lived with severe panic attacks, mild to crippling depression; I didn't speak correctly 'til age nine, and I've always been sensitive to other's energy and intent. Couple that little uncanny talent with my Romani descent---and, well, it definitely helps cast a fantastical mystique. I've been painted with several brushes of nickname, nothing I'm offended by but I commonly get empath, lightning rod, dimensional fence jumper, traveler, third eye, gypsy, intuitive, and of course, psychic.
By Barb Snodgrass5 years ago in Fiction
When The Sun Goes Down
I had to pee. Grandma had told me to go earlier. But I didn’t want to stop shooting people. My thumbs moved swiftly over the Playstation controller I held in between my hands.
By Kei Tate5 years ago in Fiction
Encounter In The Dark
Walking through the woods in the middle of twilight as darkness was about to consume the heavy air, the sound of crackling dry branches and leaves beneath my feet, there had been no rain for days, and the wildlife around me was keenly aware of my presence, but they let me know by making their respective sounds. Once my bearings have been regained to feel safe enough so long as I’m always on my guard, I begin walking along the path I initially started, but I take my time keeping my eyes and ears peeled to my surroundings.
By CJ Enterprise5 years ago in Fiction
Dynasty: A Batman Tale - Part 9
THEN Yuri Petrov immigrated from Russia with his parents when he was an infant. Yuri’s father took a job with Gothams Sanitation where he worked until he was killed in an occupational accident when Yuri was seven. Yuri’s mother received a fair settlement from the city and no longer had to work three jobs. She was able to raise Yuri alone, and send him to college. She was always expressing how Yuri’s father wanted nothing more than for him to receive an education.
By Jarad Mann5 years ago in Fiction
On My Terms
John grunted as he stumbled out of the treeline into the familiar clearing, he listened back hearing the snarls approach from behind. He grimaced holding his torn wrist close to his body, he limped across the grass fresh blood dotting the ground. He looked at the red barn ahead sighing in relief, he charged forward. John’s head whipped around back at the trees seeing the zombies stumble out reaching for him, despite the distance he put between them.
By M5 years ago in Fiction
Where the Burger Grows
“How much’ll it cost me this time?” Tony’s mother said. “Just twenty bucks for food,” Tony said. “And Miss Lanta said we’ll fundraise the rest.”
By Victor Javier Ortiz5 years ago in Fiction
Shooting star!
It was the 4th of July 1970, Independence day in the U.S.A . I stood in the backyard looking up into the sky hoping to see a shooting star.. after the display of fire works had died off. As if the universe heard me , there it was wizzing across the sky so quickly, I could barely get my thoughts together to even wish, but I did anyway and do you know what it was?
By Jacqueline Payne5 years ago in Fiction
Nightmare Farm
There is a farm somewhere with acres and acres of land where trees grow dead and grass grows brown. Flowers do not exist. Despite the fences being broken, the animals do not roam around. They are too depressed and filled with sickness.
By Kelsey Reich5 years ago in Fiction
1973
Now: “I think he’s gone.” I shush Charlie. My glare laced with anger, but mostly fear. “But…” I put an end to whatever his argument was about to be. He’s scared but so am I.
By Karena Graca5 years ago in Fiction
The Birthday Tradition
It was a cold winter morning in Plainville. It was also Remy's 21st birthday. She awoke in her family's old run-down barn and looked down at the chain and cuff locked around her ankle keeping her from reaching the walls of the barn. "Happy birthday to me," she thought without feeling. Her heart felt as cold as the barn. At least she had wool blankets to keep her warm and the barn provided some shelter from the numbing cold outside. It was just enough to survive, but not enough to be comfortable.
By Krystle Lynn Rederer5 years ago in Fiction
The Family Barn
The barn. An old place that his Dad had loved since childhood. But, Cyrus couldn't bring himself to entirely like it. As the place was more full of painful memories than good ones. Ones that were unintentionally caused by a former babysitter, Aunt Celeste, and her visit over the Summer. She was his Dad's big sister if he remembered it right. She would bring him out to the barn with his friends and the other kids from the neighborhood. Having them play hide and seek.
By Raphael Fontenelle5 years ago in Fiction