Horror

The Heroes of Howlin Ridge
My Dearest Virginia, It has been almost a year since I last felt the gentle warmth of your touch or heard the soft melody of your voice. Three years since I last gazed into your deep, indigo eyes. Every day apart, the memory of our love fades like a dream faced with the hard light of morning. I cling tightly to the heart-shaped locket you sent me in hopes that it will keep our connection strong. I swear to you, Virginia, some nights I can feel your heartbeat right next to mine.
By William Wood5 years ago in Fiction
You
When you died I sat there because we taped up the door and I can't go outside. You gave your last breath in the grey.
By Chris Scott5 years ago in Fiction
Born Human
When she awoke, all she could see was red. A rusty red flecked with something brighter–it was caked into her fingernails, crushed into the folds of her eyes, and dusting her dry achy kneecaps. She sat up with a moan, the clay flaking-off in chunks with each movement. She couldn’t remember how she ended up on the floor, but her head was throbbing. She needed to know what had happened–who had attacked? She was bleeding, but where from? She started searching for the source, and felt a small twinge at her ankle. It was a shallow cut–probably one of many. Without acknowledging why, but moving as if by puppet string, she watched her own finger reach down and swirl the edges of bright crimson into the soft, dull clay. She felt the corners of her mouth lift into a smile at the sight of her muddied wound. The sight of her own blood unlocked something like a memory, but the details eluded her.
By Sarah Small5 years ago in Fiction
Forgotten
June, 2017 The cottage had stood derelict for many years. The auction gave little information, just a paragraph reading:-
By Angel Whelan5 years ago in Fiction
From Inside Out
On a murky isle long forgotten to the world, there was a convening of darkness. Only a select few, with their private jets and natural aversion to the law, gathered on this eerily quiet evening.
By Angie Smith5 years ago in Fiction
Cask 947
It was two in the afternoon and you were standing outside the restaurant when it happened. Crickham Street was a rabbit’s nest and even in daylight the shadows were strong. Ahead of you was your favorite place to eat on this side of the valley, The Happy Ghoul. A sign on the door showed a smiling skull gulping down a bowl of noodles, and you sighed in hunger and contentment. It was a Friday, almost BuckBuck hour, and your mouth was watering.
By Pete Marquardt5 years ago in Fiction
Billy and Bosco
Every night, my Dad was in charge of putting me to bed. He would help me brush my teeth and then would tuck me into my nice, warm bed. Then he would tell me a story. Every night, it was the same story. ‘The Story of Bosco and Billy’. I had lots of books in my room, as my Mother would read to me throughout the day, but Dad would never read any of those books, he would always tell me the same story. I always assumed that either, the story had come from a book, but my Father had told it so many times that he didn’t need to read from the book anymore, or that it was a story he was told as a child.
By Luke Pudney 5 years ago in Fiction
Food for Thought
November 2nd, 2222 Today is the beginning of the end. We’ve been waiting so long for this. My nerves make me want to run away into the forest and never return but there are too many lives in my hand. I know my conscious wouldn’t let me live with that. I feel the rough bark on the branch I’m sitting on and look out over the city that is bustling a few miles away, just beneath my feet.
By Caitlyn Hemphill5 years ago in Fiction
Infected Ties
The summer’s heat whips at Mateo and he feels his breath shortening and his throat tighten out of dryness; but he can’t stop running. He can hear their footsteps clambering behind him. That’s the issue with these infected folks, they can turn out all sorts of ways once the parasite has taken over their vital organs; most importantly their brain. They can either enhance the traits of their hosts or completely change them. The two following behind him must have taken over hosts who were track stars or seriously mutated their muscles and lungs, because they have been steadily following him at a sprint for what feels like forever.
By Jade Wiglesworth5 years ago in Fiction
Long Time Traveler
My hand encapsulates the gold locket dangling from my neck as I take in a slow measured breath then continue. The low-hanging vines from the willow trees lining the edge of the forest conceal me just enough to stay entirely out of sight. Beside me, Lena, my adopted mutt I picked up along the way, sneaks as quietly as I do over the dead leaves and garbage littering the dirt. My eyes train on the bodies moving listlessly through the desolate street ahead.
By Arielle Irvine5 years ago in Fiction
The Divine
Everybody dies. The rich, the poor, the prude, the wild, our loved ones and our enemies. Nature does not discriminate one holy man to that of which appears to have clawed its way out from the fiery pits of hell.
By Jesenia De La Cruz5 years ago in Fiction
Black Blisters
“There’s one thing that never seems to change no matter how grim the world becomes. No matter how dark the days are, the sun will still rise and mark a new dawn. The circle of life will always continue - you may not be able to see it, but it will. ”
By Gus verb5 years ago in Fiction