thriller

Through The Crack
I wasn’t supposed to be awake. The clock’s red digits glowed 3:07 a.m., painting my ceiling like a wound. I should’ve been asleep—my body heavy with exhaustion, my mind quiet—but the house had that wrong kind of silence, the kind that feels like it’s waiting for something.
By Nina Pierce3 months ago in Fiction
The Night Shift
I crawled towards the faint yellow glow in the crack at the bottom of the door frame. I felt a warm liquid dripping from my brown and could smell the iron of my blood mixed with the must of damp laundry.
By Theresa M Hochstine3 months ago in Fiction
The Spirit Box (5). Content Warning.
Chapter 5: Hostages on a Train I walked into the police station and immediately heard the yelling. “Do you know where I had to sleep last night?” Emily shouted.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 months ago in Fiction
The Forbidden Mountain of Russia: The Pulse of the Damned
The crystalline resin crept up Donovan’s arms like frozen ivy, a searing cold that burned deeper than any flame. Each tiny, hexagonal facet pulsed with the same faint red light that illuminated the chamber, syncing with the relentless thump-thump-THUMP that vibrated through the metal floor. The reanimated figures—their faces hollowed out by frost and eternal agony—held him fast, their grip iron-strong. The voice of KROVI, a horrifying choir stitched from the stolen voices of the Frozen Five, echoed not just in the air, but inside the very marrow of his bones.
By Wellova 3 months ago in Fiction
The Girl Next Door
When Michelle and her family moved into the old white house on Country Meadow Lane, she didn’t expect much excitement. Her parents were thrilled about the quiet neighborhood and had gotten a hell of a deal on their beautiful new home, but Michelle was annoyed. She didn’t want to be the new kid. She didn’t want to go through the awkward process of making new friends. She was lonely.
By Sara Wilson3 months ago in Fiction
The Room with No Mirrors – Deep Psychological Story (Narration for YouTube)
They told me memory can’t lie. But after what happened in Room 27… I’m not so sure. I was 29 when I joined the clinical study at the Mindwell Institute — a new research project on “visual memory reconstruction.”
By Naimat ullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Intruder. Top Story - November 2025.
I could see them earlier today. My keyhole looks into the hallway, but I can see into the living room too, occasionally catching glimpses of my favourite family. The long luscious blonde locks of Gabi, that flowed behind her like the veil she's wearing in the picture in the hallway. The tall handsome Zack, with large rippling muscles in his shoulders as he lifted little Ava high up in the air. The perfect family, illustrated well by the perfect pictures on the wall opposite my peephole.
By Liam Storm3 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Lives in the Wall
"Mommy?! Mommy, wake up!" Heidi groaned and rolled over toward the small voice, wishing her dream of mai-tais on the beach and hunky cabana boys could've lasted just a little longer. It took a few seconds for her bleary eyes to adjust in the dark. The second the frightened little boy standing at her bedside came into focus, she was wide awake.
By Natalie Gray3 months ago in Fiction
Echoes of the Ninth Signal
The city that pulsed under neon lights, restless and alive. Steam hissing from subway grates, twisting in the glow of flickering advertisements like ghostly fingers. At 2:03 a.m., the Ninth Signal cracked across the network which was sharp, impossible, and undeniably present. Mara, who felt it before she heard it, a vibration that rattled her chest and settled into her bones. Her screen exploded into static, then stilled, revealing nothing but a black void..
By AFC3 months ago in Fiction
On an Evening Walk Past Oakhurst Park
One of the chief pleasures of my life is to roam familiar city streets in the autumn air. The habit began as a product of necessity. In the early days of my career, I could not afford to hire a driver for the convenience of my commute. It was no matter, for I was full of the vigor of youth and a brisk walk to the office demanded only a small fraction of my energy, and a modest commitment of my time. After establishing myself in the relevant business circles, I gained an amount of freedom to choose my mode of transport on a regular basis.
By Rebekah Conard3 months ago in Fiction
The House That Laughed Last
Chapter 1: The Moving Van The Jensen family had just moved into 13 Hawthorn Lane, a crooked, peeling house with a lawn that seemed allergic to life. Dad was excited, Mom was wary, and Timmy, nine and already plotting to become the neighborhood mischief legend was suspicious of everything. The first night, the creaks started. Not the normal “old house settling” creaks. These were rhythmic, like someone tiptoeing… in clown shoes. Timmy, armed with a flashlight and a bowl of cereal, tiptoed into the hallway. The beam landed on… nothing. The cereal bowl was gone. A tiny, giggling voice echoed from the kitchen:
By AFC3 months ago in Fiction
creep show
Sometimes, one does stupid things. Out of nowhere, I took the liberty to look through the peephole. I mean, it was there for all to get the Goldilocks vibes and help oneself to the peepshow that was on offer. No one was around and I thought, what the hell?
By Jerome Smith-Pula3 months ago in Fiction