thriller

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
Some Things Should Not Be Seen
Laura put her eye to the keyhole. The room was dimly lit with only a small lamp. She could not make anything out. She was sure this was where the wailing had come from. She heard the floorboards creaking as someone walked across the room. A shadow passed the keyhole. She pulled her eye away.
By Calvin London3 months ago in Fiction
Unforgotten
Zeelen transmitted from the kitchen: “‘Mysteries abound where most we seek for answers.’ You know who wrote that? It was Ray Bradbury. Think he may have been onto something.” She picked up an apple, ruby-red, unmarred, and hesitated, before biting. It was juicy, and delicious. A new theory was required.
By Eric Wolf3 months ago in Fiction
A Message Written in Moon Dust
Dr. Aris Thorne was a geologist, a woman of rock and reason. The first human mission to the lunar farside was her life's work. As her lander settled into the dust of the Mendeleev Basin, a place of eternal Earth-shadow, her heart beat with a purely scientific thrill. She was here to read the moon's oldest stories, written in stone.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
THE PARALLEL TRANSMISSION
The Parallel Transmission When the message arrived, reality began to unravel. by Alex Mario The night was silent—too silent for a world stitched together by signals, motors, and the soft hiss of the cosmos. Wind swept over the Carpathian ridge and died against concrete, and inside the hilltop observatory the only sound was the hum of old equipment refusing to retire.
By Alex Mario3 months ago in Fiction
Very Careful. Content Warning.
Nicole touched her upper lip. The skin was cracked and dry. She shrugged. It was January in New York. Everything was cracked and dry, from the sidewalks to her toenail cuticles, which she absentmindedly picked at while she watched TV at night. More often than not, this habit resulted in a small to medium-sized bleed, which she’d patch with one of her son’s band-aids, a whimsical affair, usually adorned with space or unicorn scenes. The picked skin would heal in a few weeks, only for the band-aid to be removed and the skin, fresh and dry and tempting, to be picked at again.
By Kristin Diversi3 months ago in Fiction
The Man Who Lived Twice – Part Five
The motel room was empty. At least, that’s what the police report said. No signs of struggle. No footprints. No broken locks.
By The Davids3 months ago in Fiction
Behind the Sheet
We moved into the house in late fall, the kind of season where daylight fades before you feel ready. The nice elderly landlord walked us room to room with a natural smile, pointing out upgrades and fresh paint and how the furnace had been recently serviced. He kept talking, but every time we reached the hallway, he angled his body away from the last opening at the far end. He never looked at it directly. He never mentioned it.
By Joey Raines3 months ago in Fiction
UPDATE: The hotel laundry that runs itself after midnight
Hey everyone, It’s been about a week since my last post. I honestly didn’t plan on updating — I thought maybe I’d just scared myself too much, or imagined half of it. But things have gotten worse. Way worse.
By V-Ink Stories3 months ago in Fiction
[FOUND FOOTAGE UPDATE] About that hotel laundry post… the one that ran itself after midnight
Hey, I didn’t think I’d ever post here, but this feels important. I work at the same [REDACTED] Inn the last guy posted about — the one with the laundry that supposedly “runs itself after midnight.”
By V-Ink Stories3 months ago in Fiction
Behind the Sea Green Door. Runner-Up in The Forgotten Room Challenge.
From the outside, it was just your run-of-the-mill garden shed. One of those metal sheds that becomes sweltering and almost unbearable on a summer’s day. It was a little rusted around the edges and worn with age. Where the paint had survived the elements, it was a beautiful sea green that matched the colour of the winter grass after the rain.
By Sandy Gillman3 months ago in Fiction