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.
Bad Doggy
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. My hair was ripped out in clumps. Dried blood and dirt caked the sides of my cheeks. My bloodshot eyes squinted through pulsing flesh. I saw the iron collar that hung loosely around my neck along with the short chain that bound it to the concrete wall behind me. My wrists and ankles were similarly clasped with a chain that connected all four limbs. This mirror was my only source of reality and as much as I wanted it to, it was unable to lie.
By M.A Rector3 years ago in Horror
Tax Man Cometh?
1 The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t his own. Chris leaned over the bathroom sink to get a closer look at the pimple on his right cheek. He grunted in frustration as the view eluded him. “I hate these stupid glasses!” he shottered—his own made-up word for shouted and muttered. “I’m too near-sighted to see without them, but they’re not strong enough to see with them. It’s like I have a blind spot at the edge of them---what the heck was that?? Jase, did you see that?”
By Mack D. Ames3 years ago in Horror
Seven Deaths
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own, and that was the first time I realized I was capable of feeling fear. No, the reflection in the broken glass was that of a woman in her thirties, short but muscular, curly black hair, nose piercing. She had been my sixth victim. No, seventh.
By Bethany Larson3 years ago in Horror
Trapped in a Miniature World
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. It was as if someone, or something, else was staring back at me through the dusty Victorian glass. At first, I was hesitant to investigate further, but my curiosity got the best of me. As I peered into the mirror, I was astounded by what I saw. Inside, there was a tiny world filled with people, each no bigger than a toy figurine. They were living their lives in a world that was completely foreign to me, with their own customs, cultures, and even wars. It was both fascinating and frightening. But as I leaned in closer, drawn in by the incredible sight before me, I suddenly felt a strange force pulling me towards the mirror. Before I knew it, I was hurtling towards the miniature world, unable to stop myself or even comprehend what was happening.
By Omar Sohail3 years ago in Horror
The Glass Lies. Runner-Up in Broken Mirror Challenge.
I. The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. I looked at it, as I had every morning for 37 years. It was the image of a kind man - the sort who gave five dollars to panhandlers and smiled at baristas. The face was unlined and ageless. It was an arresting face. Not pretty-boy handsome, but well-chiseled and distinguished. Trustworthy, my customers called it.
By Pitt Griffin3 years ago in Horror
The Nod
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. It wasn’t entirely not mine either. There were visual similarities for sure. The same skin, complete with the heavier age spots on the left side of my face, the gin blossoms around the nose, the whisps of silver hair that formed a low crown and the longer trails that represented what used to be my part but were now just remnants of what was, like the sparse grass growing in the ruts of a forgotten hiking trail.
By Grant Williams3 years ago in Horror
Reflections of Terror
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. At first, I thought it was just a trick of the light or a smudge on the glass. But as I leaned in closer, I realized that the reflection staring back at me was different. Its eyes were darker, its skin was paler, and its expression was one of pure malice.
By Doreen Chand3 years ago in Horror
Return my Skin
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. It was Jeff’s. Jeff’s reflection stared back at me as if it didn’t want me there. I wasn’t sure whether it was Jeff standing behind me, or if I was having a hallucination, but what I knew was that my reflection wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Attempting to ignore the dark, oppressive feel of my once happy home, I squinted deeper in to the mirror, desperate to make sense of it. Then Jeff’s reflection stepped toward me, toward the mirror’s mirror. As it approached, the reflection began to dissolve, first its feet that were ahead of it, then its hands that swung forward with each step. Once Jeff’s reflection was completely gone, I saw my own, standing twice as far away as it should. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I broke from my vision.
By Rick Pension3 years ago in Horror
Mirror, Mirror
1 The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. Clouds of grey smoke twirl upward spiraling around the colored tapestries hanging above my crown. The still warm mouthpiece of my water pipe sits only inches from where it left my wicked lips. Her image still lingers in the reflecting glass, haunting me. My poor dead stepdaughter. Daddy’s perfect little princess all rotted away.
By The Invisible Writer3 years ago in Horror
