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.

Say My Name
It's night. A sister and brother are driving down a back road. The sister is driving. The brother is in the passenger seat staring out the window.
By Maurice Blocker6 years ago in Horror
"An Incomprehensible Adventure, Attested to by an Entire Province"
It is hard to believe that it was less than a century ago that, in many parts of France, we poor, weak fools still held fast to the superstitious belief that it was only a matter of giving our souls over to the devil, enacted in rituals both cruel and fanatic, for us to get everything we wanted from this diabolical personage; and it is not more than a century ago that the adventure that we are going to tell about occured in one of our southern provinces, where it is still attested to today on the official histories of two cities and furthermore, covered with the most heartfelt personal testimonies to convince the skeptical. The reader may believe it, or may not; we speak only after having verified it; certainly we cannot guarantee it as fact, but we certify to him that more than one hundred thousand souls did believe it, and that more than fifty thousand can still attest today the authenticity with which it is recorded.
By Tom Baker6 years ago in Horror
Tekhenu
Tekhenu: the ancient, Egyptian word for obelisk. Built many years ago, they stand tall and grand in grey stone, complete with a pyramid-shaped top. Time has not withered their majesty, nor their strange sense of foreboding.
By Karen Cave6 years ago in Horror
The Doctor's Visit
It rained quietly that night. My mother was in her room coughing up dark red liquid from her cracked lips. I gazed out the hallway window patiently, holding the ragged doll I've owned since I was a child. Death darkened the streets of London, and childhood memories were all I had left to cherish. Things were better then, regardless of our nonexistent moneys.
By Jamie Lynn Mullins6 years ago in Horror
Murder
Murder, murder is constantly on my mind. I know that I’m not strong enough to do it. But I just wonder if I could. When I pass people in public just walking down the street, I think to myself “I know it would be so easy to take there life”. I think I’d elaborate ways to get the job done and how not to get caught. I have a regular nine to five job and I’ve never done anything in my life to make me think of these things. I just want to kill. I don’t think there is anything wrong with me or even having these kinds of thoughts. I wish I had someone to share and talk to about these things, I don’t want a therapist. I live alone and I’m not close to any of my family. The only people I talk to or atleast talk to me are my co-workers, and lets just say they are very judgmental people. I don’t like any of them, but this job is the only thing keeping me from moving back home, I’ll just have to deal with them for a while. One of my co-workers has been on my mind for the longest, her name is Jessica, she is sweet smart kind and just perfect. But don’t get the wrong idea, I want to kill her. She would be just perfect for a first kill, and once she is out of the way I would be able to kill anyone. It breaks my heart to think of this, but Jessica just recently went missing, everyone thinks she got kidnapped or something. At noght I have dreams about her and I can even smell her. If I wake up in the middle of the night, I get hints of her perfume. I always wake up in the morning with a totally different pair of clothes on for some reason, it’s almost like I got up and did something while I slept. The cops came by my work a couple of days ago looking for Jessica and to there surprise, they found nothing. So the cops just leave without anymore questions. My bed has started to smell really bad as of late, and I’m kind of scared of what might be in there. Tonight I’m going to open my bed up and see what’s inside, god I hope it’s not what I think is in there... the time has come I’m going to open my bed now, as I open the bed the smell starts to get worse, and to my surprise what I find in there is what I thought. There is a girl in there, obviously she is dead and what is kind of weird is, I don’t know who it is. Later that night I dispose of the body in the closest river and the bed in an apartment complex near by. Seeing a dead body in my bed changed something in me, I don’t have many thoughts of killing someone stuck in my mind anymore. Jessica shows back up to work a couple weeks later and she is doing fine. Jessica just ran away from the duties of life for a couple weeks, and well she is back. I still wake up in a different set of clothes in the morning, but I don’t pay it any mind anymore. I just wonder, am I insane...
By SammoSun McNugget6 years ago in Horror
The Last Painting
The word drowsy doesn’t fully describe how tired I am. I turn my head to see the clock. It’s 10:23 pm. I just need to finish this last paragraph…..Finished! Now what do I do?
By Alexandria Fuller6 years ago in Horror
Fatherhood
Fatherhood By Torbjörn Stevenson Chris stood above the toilet, the smoke from his pall Mall cigarette travelling through the air and serpentining out of the window. The wind outside catching it and forcing it to dissipate into the nothingness of the black night.
By Torbjörn Stevenson6 years ago in Horror
Mother
Erin and I couldn’t believe our luck. After months of searching, we finally found a safe haven. The old mall was musty from years of neglect, but it was stocked and safe from the horrors of the outside world. I glanced over at Erin, her small frame made even smaller from our time on the street. I don’t know how we survived all that time… with them. We were safe now, with our new little “family”. As if on cue, Mother walked through the door. A pale heavy-set woman in her late 40s, she was wearing her long mousy brown hair slicked back in a ponytail today. “Mother” was the only name we knew her by. “It’z almosvt time vor dinner everyone!” Her kind eyes twinkled as she spoke to us, filling us with warmth. I glanced around the room at the other survivors. Besides Erin and I, there were about 8 other people all of whom I knew except 1. “Mother?” I asked “Did we get a new member to our group?” In the corner sat a woman who looked very similar to Mother. “Hmmm? Oh nein, zat’s Helka” And that’s all she said. We all looked at each other confused. Had Helga been here the whole time? The mall was huge so it was possible she was just staying in a different part. Did that mean other people were also in the mall? No one thought to question Mother with her thick German accent, she was the reason we were all safe. So we all just got ready for dinner.
By Porsche J6 years ago in Horror
Pain
I never wanted to be a murder but here I was covered in blood. Earlier that day. Staring across the diner table at him I couldn’t be happier. I know I just met him this week but I felt like I had known him for the longest time. He sees my mind is somewhere else and asks me what’s going on. Oh nothing I say just thinking about how this is all so perfect. My smile fades and I think about how nothing is perfect. He grabs my hand and says nothing is perfect but with you it’s the closest I’ve ever felt. I smile again because he again has just basically read my mind for the hundredth time and I have no idea how he does it. Everything with this friendship seems so right. We are getting to know each other and actually hanging. We aren’t hooking up and we talk about everything. Everything is going great until the dreaded sentence that comes out his mouth. I need to tell you something please keep an open mind.
By Andrea Suttles6 years ago in Horror
The Swamps of Kalareth
"Beware the Swamps of Kalareth, for those who enter, will never return." The marshes within the Forbidden Lands, cursed for eternity after the Lich king, Vezrael, was defeated the lands became cursed by his soul. The dead are forever cursed, the souls of the innocent trapped beneath the dark and murky waters. Should one get too close the souls shriek and reach to pull them in and drown them. Adding to the unfortunate souls below. But there is still more.
By Sarah Carrillo6 years ago in Horror
Trapped: Part 1
When his eyes opened he was greeted by a dimly lit damp room. The ceiling decorated with an old decrepit fan that the man had no idea what its purpose was. Efforts to move his wrists and feet enlighten him to a tingling numb feeling that often comes from shackles that are too tight. Finding the effort to move futile he propped his head up to try to get a good look at the rest of the room. Two others were present. One to his right, and one to his left. At the foot of the bed a clipboard with some papers on it. Presumably at least. Towards the right an iron door and a dimply lit lantern that served as the rooms only light source. Gods, this room is depressing.
By Jauren Riloski6 years ago in Horror
To Make Him Stay
Her expression could have been seen from miles away, her sorrowful eyes glistening with tears as her lip quivered. Una Ferguson, a young woman at the age of 21, was very well known around town. She was sweet. She was generous. Her voice, always laced with sugar as she spoke. Quite an angel, this girl was. Not only, in appearance but deep down in her heart as well. If ever there was a frown on her face, it was never out in public. Her face shined like the brilliant sun as she walked around town, grinning at every passerby. So, the devastating expression she had on her face was not just saddening, but disturbing. For, how could a light shining so bright suddenly turn off? A tear rolled down her cheek, as she stared out of the window, one thought in her head—Steven Bailey, her boyfriend of seven years. Seven years and he still hasn’t even brought up the topic of marriage. Seven years and Una was starting to feel disheartened whenever he would leave early in the morning and come back late at night, which was almost daily. It was basically breakfast, leave, dinner, and bed. Though they slept only inches away from each other, Una always felt alone. Her worries of “when is he going to marry me?” had long gone, as her head filled with destructive questions and conclusions. Where is he going? Who is he with? Why does he always come late? Most importantly, why doesn’t he hold me anymore? And why don’t we talk anymore? Her partner had now become simply her roommate. In other words, Una longed for affection. She ran her fingers through her soft, curly, brown hair, as she waited for his return. Then, her eyes widened and her eyebrows lifted. Harsh lights and a single honking sound. He’s back! She got on her feet and practically sprinted to the garage door, only to be greeted with her boyfriend’s tired eyes and “I’m skipping dinner tonight”. She watched him as he walked into their bedroom, saying nothing. As soon as she heard the door close, she felt a sharp pain in her heart. “But I cooked your favorite…”
By Salem Rosé6 years ago in Horror