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.

Their Adventure into the Fall of the Bermuda
As soon as they get to the hospital, the nurses rush her to the emergency room. The nurses slowly unwrap her bandages, trying to make it the least painful as possible. They take a look at her flesh on her leg, just all mangled up and bloody to see what they can do or if they can even save her leg. “How on earth did this happen?” A familiar voice says. Mandy looks around to see who said that but couldn’t get a good look without getting lightheaded and plopping her head down again. “Now, now. Take it easy Mandy. We’re going to take diligent care of your leg. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure of it.” That is the last thing Mandy heard as she passed out into a dark abyss.
By Alina Gober5 years ago in Horror
Perfectly Imperfect
‘Perfection,’ I said. ‘What’s the root cause, do you think?’ My grandpa, “Gramps,” was sitting across from me at the café table, examining his coffee. He’d been sitting for the last five minutes, giving me time to “chew over my thoughts,” as he often called it. I recall the many times the old bugger would say, ‘it happens this way with you young ones. You all seem to live inside your heads… or on your doodle-lackey devices.’ And then he would tell me how he’d once watched a young girl, head glued to her phone, walk into a street sign. ‘And it was a good mashing, too, Jackie-boy. Idiot girl had spoiled her nice white blouse with the blood! Streamed out of her nose and down her chin.’ I can’t quite remember how many times I’d heard that story over the months leading up to this day.
By RJ Derby5 years ago in Horror
Pizza Delivery
It’s around 10 pm when my friend, Jade comes over and decides to order a pizza. I glance back to the clock and urge her not to. “Why? I thought you were hungry too. And it sounds really good right now.” I give in because it was easier for her to see it rather than me telling her. I called in the order and although the cashier sounded nervous delivering to my area, it was a sacrifice we all had to make unfortunately.
By Avielle E.5 years ago in Horror
The Revival, 1932
The canvas tent looked large enough to swallow half of Cross, and part of Christopher Ryan wished it would. Thursday had been his fourteenth birthday, and there were far better places for him to be than a revival on a bright and beautiful Sunday.
By Nicholas Efstathiou5 years ago in Horror
The Purple Tile
Clyde hurried across the intersection, a harsh sun reddening his neck and baking the blacktop. Stepping up to the curb, he briskly made his way to The Purple Tile diner. As he approached, he noticed two distinct front doors to the establishment - a blue door to his left and a red door to the right. Clyde slowed his pace, looking between the two entrances.
By Benny Shlesinger5 years ago in Horror
For the Love of Fire
I. The Search - 4 Hours Ago Kitten wrinkled her nose. The smell of gasoline was strong. She felt dizzy and nauseous. These city streets were beginning to wear on her and it was time to get out of town. She passed squatters to the left and from them, arose a putrefied stink.
By Annette Kim5 years ago in Horror
I Should Have Just Gone Home
The night was October 28th and it wasn't a particularly eventful day; it was however a rough one. I had been in a funk for the last few days after finding out that my application to. grad school had been denied. Everything I had worked for was suddenly for nothing. I needed a pick-me-up and the only cure for the funk I was in, was the biggest size McFlurry and french fries McDonalds had to offer.
By Ash Hastings 5 years ago in Horror
Roadies
He woke to a start. The dream had been so vivid, yet it was fading fast. He hated that about dreams, the good ones anyway. He scrambled for his notebook, so that he could write it down before it was gone. The first few words were usually scrambled thoughts, the things that stood out the most about the beginning. He found that the further back he could go, as far back as possible, the more vivid his recollection, even if it wasn't seemingly connected meaningfully to the sequence of events that took place. At least, not meaningful in this real life. But what was real life anymore? He wondered.
By Pyrion Astorii5 years ago in Horror
The Starlight Diner
Jen didn’t believe in The Starlight’s ghost. It didn’t make sense, she thought, for an unassuming, small-town diner to have a resident spirit. In the week she had worked there, she hadn’t witnessed any of the activity her coworkers claimed to experience regularly—doors slamming shut, lights flickering, disembodied voices. She thought the staff was playing games, that it was some hazing ritual to trick new servers into thinking the diner was haunted. Or maybe, she thought, the reason she hadn’t witnessed any paranormal phenomena was because she, unlike her coworkers, didn’t believe in ghosts. She never had.
By Katherine J. Zumpano5 years ago in Horror
The Night Shift
As Anne was polishing the stainless steel counter, she glanced upward at the clock just above the door. She watched the seconds tick by as a strand of her black hair slipped from behind her ear and landed on her face. She swiped it back and let out a long sigh. It had just then struck 2:15 a.m. Her shift started almost 4 hours ago. She had wiped down every red table top, cleaned every inch of the navy blue vinyl seating in the diner, and had straightened all but one picture frame on the walls . Even the brick red tile of the dining room had a sheen on them she hadn’t seen in some time. Gingerly she walked across the tile floor and straightened the last of Ken’s memorabilia from is Navy days. Normally, this would make her happy, but she still had another 4 hours left and the last customer left just before midnight. Ken was in the back doing some of the dishes whistling some Irish drinking tune. This was not an uncommon occurrence since it had been his usual means of helping the time pass quicker as long as Anne could remember. With no customers to serve and having been fully satisfied now that she could see her pale reflection in the counter, she decided to go and check on him. She had worked for him for the past 3 years and come to love some of the old folk songs.
By Seth House5 years ago in Horror
The Procurer
Stepping through the veil had always been difficult for Camille and so she did not do it without good reason. Today, unfortunately, she did have a good reason. She held a parcel tightly wrapped in unassuming brown paper closely to her chest while the squeak of her platform boots echoed on the empty street. She felt quite stupid for wearing them. The grey sky blended into the buildings that lined the streets and heavy wind was insistent on blowing her hair into her face where it then stuck to her lipstick. It made her feel stupid for wearing that as well. As she worried over how ridiculous she probably looked she walked right past the entrance to the shop. She backtracked, wincing at the sound of her boots and at the same time began trying to pull the hair out of her mouth and off of the lipstick she wore. She stopped for a moment and examined the facade. Camille did not know what she expected from this specific antique bookshop but it wasn’t this. The building did not have any windows save for one and it was only large enough to hold a small sign that said Antique Books and another below it that said Closed. She hesitated for only a moment noting the energy surrounding the shop felt desperate, lonely, and very hungry.
By C R Lovik 5 years ago in Horror
Haunted 24/7
The Hubbard House wasn’t like other haunted houses. The 3 story gray and white Victorian sat amongst others in downtown Sacramento. Though there was no one living inside, the paint looked fresh and no cobwebs lurked in its corners. No bare trees with branches like bony fingers and knuckles scratched the head of the house. The grass stood devotedly neat and dark green. The hot Sacramento summer suns tried their best to add splashes of brown and yellow highlights to the tips of their green blades, but yet it remained still, unscorched, and stubborn. Weeds dared not cross into its borders and the flowers grew beautifully and flagrantly across the porch. Of these, red roses were the most abundant and colorful, but they always remained closed, never blooming open, and petals never knowing the taste of the ground. They stood as the Queen’s Guard armed with thorns aimed at anyone who dared breach the royal blue double doors or approach the stone with the shimmery piece of metal embedded inside. No one had been inside the house since old man Hubbard passed away 5 years ago; The house simply wouldn’t allow it.
By Samantha Moorer5 years ago in Horror