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 Anatomy of Fear
Why We Crave the Fear Horror has always occupied a strange, shadowy corner of human imagination. It thrives on the things we fear most—death, the unknown, betrayal, and the loss of control. From ancient ghost tales told by firelight to modern psychological thrillers, horror stories grip us with a mix of dread and fascination. But why do we willingly subject ourselves to fear? The answer lies in the unique way horror manipulates our emotions, forcing us to confront what we’d rather avoid.
By Muhammad Ibrahim6 months ago in Horror
He was behind me... until he wasn't.
That path was never dangerous. There's a river path that runs behind my grandmother's property. We've been following it since we were kids—just a quiet dirt trail behind the water's edge, shaded by tall oaks and whispering grass. Birds chirped overhead. The water moved lazily. It never seemed threatening.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Horror
Send To Kill. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
In a world where beliefs clashed like thunder, some worshipped Buddha, others knelt before the cross, and some whispered prayers to Allah. But in the shadows lurked a man who didn’t fit into any of these beliefs. He was a self-made monster—a mix of faith and madness. He read the Bible not to find salvation, but to twist its words into a weapon for his darkest urges.
By Winston Benjamin6 months ago in Horror
The Whispers in the Walls
It began with the scratching. At first, Daniel thought it was just mice. The old countryside house creaked at night anyway, so a little rustling between the walls didn’t seem unusual. But this was different. The sound didn’t come in short bursts like rodents scurrying—it was slow, deliberate… almost like fingernails dragging along wood.
By Muhammad Bilal6 months ago in Horror
The Last Step
He loved the sound of trains. Tyrus loved trains. Not in the casual way most kids say they do—he lived for them. He could name every model from memory. He copied the sounds so precisely that even my father, a retired conductor, once stopped mid-coffee and said, “That boy has an engine in his chest.”
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Horror
Series Finale. Content Warning.
You'd think dying would hurt more. I'm sitting here now, watching my blood pool beneath the microphone stand, and all I can think about is how we were only twelve minutes into episode forty-seven. The red recording light still blinks on my laptop screen. Still capturing everything.
By Scott Sterling6 months ago in Horror
