fiction
Horror fiction that delivers on its promise to scare, startle, frighten and unsettle. These stories are fake, but the shivers down your spine won't be.
The Vengeful Spirit
I stared in horror as the beautiful woman with skin as white as freshly fallen snow before me began to shift and change, her appearance becoming more grotesque with each passing moment. Her long, graceful fingers had become elongated and her nails had become knives. Her long, black, sleek hair unfolded itself from the ornamental hair stick made of ivory that held it in a tight bun and started going in every direction as if she were immersed in water. Even her traditional silk hanbok started to rip and decay as she stood there trembling in hatred and anger. She stabbed my chest with her fingers, pulling me in closer to look straight into the endless void of her eyes. Smiling with satisfaction, she stabbed me in the forehead with her other hand. I expected things to go dark, for my life to end. Things went dark very briefly, but in a flash of bright light, I was standing in a rice field. Looking around, things are very surreal, blurry around the edges. Everything except the small farmhouse, in front of me, that stood out very solid and clear. The house stood a few yards away, made from what looked like clay and thatch for the roof. An unseen force shoved me forward, like a wall closing in behind me. I hustle a bit to get away from the feeling, I cautiously approach the little house. A man in fine silk clothing stormed out the door as I drew close to the entrance, not paying attention to me at all. The invisible force hit me and projected me into the house, I land on my back in the middle of the living room. Rolling over with a groan, I quickly flattened myself as a panel of the floor flew at me, crashing into the wall. Looking down into the hole, I see a lone candle sitting on a small table, the rest of the room is shrouded in darkness. Knowing that I wouldn't have a choice, I dropped down and approached the table. There was a news article clipping, at first it was in a language that I couldn't read, but as I scanned the article the words flashed into English.
By Tiggerish Eeyore (Aaron Wood)5 years ago in Horror
The Witchfinders Daughter
I hadn’t ever really been close to my grandmother, certainly not close enough to warrant becoming the sole recipient of her home in Belfast, Northern Ireland. After losing my parents when I was six, I’d come to live with her, my childhood full of religious fervor and loneliness. She was never the happiest woman. More stern and dictatorial, hellbent on teaching me to live my life as her god’s faithful servant. I’d left Northern Ireland two years ago, swearing never to return. Yet here I was, back in Belfast, with the keys to her beloved home in St. Helens.
By Anise Shepherd5 years ago in Horror
Lemonade.
Bruises heal faster if you keep them iced. Always whisper sweet nothings into your gravy if you want it to taste right. Cut skin can pull itself together, but if it’s too deep you’re best to hold it in place with tape. Fruit tastes better when it’s over ripe. Don’t tell the neighbors the truth; else they might get too nosey.
By Allex Combs5 years ago in Horror
The Choice He Made
It was a frigid winter morning in Northern Pennsylvania. The sun had not yet risen as Sully started his 2003 Chevy. He had just completed a 10 hour night shift at the mill, and the snow was coming down hard. A snowstorm was nothing new in PA, but boy was he tired. The worries of paying the bills, putting food on the tabe, and getting that damn furnace fixed were weighing heavily on his mind, and he hadn’t gotten any sleep the day before. Sully thought back to the good old days as he headed down the road, when he was a kid. The warm summer sun beating down, swimming in the quarry with his brother. Not a care in the world. Those were the days. Now here he was, a 30 year-old man living paycheck to paycheck. A wife at home who’d been out of work for months due to a bad leg break she suffered chasing the dog down the street. “Damn dog. More trouble than he’s worth,” he thought.
By Jenna Tomovich5 years ago in Horror
Eating my experiences (24)
TOME 25 I could see the lips I kissed now swollen and torn by my bludgeoning, eyes I once longed to look into bulging out of her head, freckled face I once help longingly ruptured and specked by shards of bone poking through her skin. I wondered as her brain began to sizzle if I would ever rid myself of the events that unwrapped over the last 24 hours. I had killed the woman I loved, and the woman I loved was so many people, including my mom, how could you forgive yourself for that.
By L.D. Malachite 5 years ago in Horror
Infectious.
The little compass on my dashboard has not moved from the position of “NW” for over an hour now. Now that I’ve made my way out of the city, the interstate is wide open. Its well into November, and the sun is darting through miles of thick, leafless trees. I glance down at my phone screen and immediately smile when I see that full bars has dropped off to “No Service” in just the last few miles. I look back up at the horizon. It’s only 2pm, but the sun is already casting long shadows. Shadows that will bring full dark by 5pm.
By Joshua Mills5 years ago in Horror
Eating my experiences (21)
TOME 22 We finished taking inventory for the day and lay on our freshly dried blankets in a heap of human flesh. We felt safe for the first time since Zach was stolen, a welcomed solace. We laughed and smoked and drank fresh water from the river. We found a decent stock of wine in the basement, but chose to avoid it for the day, allowing ourselves to get acquainted with our surrounding first. We found the toilet does flush, but only one of them, the very upstairs bathroom. The hot water didn't work, but the electric stove did, so we could take hot baths, but not showers, a luxury I had imagined long gone.
By L.D. Malachite 5 years ago in Horror
Eating my experiences (20)
TOME 21 The next several days were a blur of joints and gazing longingly at Lilly who had encompassed my every thought. I found myself staring at her grace and peppy natured reactions for hours at a time. Our trip back took three days, as we broke for camp often and joyously. I had my good friend Zach back, as well as a new friend to explore. Other than Lilly our trek was uneventful, a much needed release of tension after the tragedy and horror that unfurled in the militia's headquarters.
By L.D. Malachite 5 years ago in Horror
The Devil's Master
“Help me! Dear God, help me!” The words broke free from Alexander’s tight lips to co-mingle with his hot, stinging tears before falling into the empty whiskey glass set before him on the bar. His years of abject failure was caving in upon him, and his fear of it was palpable. His defeat was almost complete, just as the final blasphemy in which he was about to perform.
By B.W. Van Alstyne5 years ago in Horror
