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.
Part one: don't look into the mirror. Content Warning.
The diner was buzzing with the sounds of laughter and bacon sizzling on the grill. The smell of coffee and fried eggs flooded her senses. The bell sounded as every new patron entered through the front door. “How are you today?” She heard the hostess say at the front of the diner.
By Jasmine McClain6 months ago in Horror
The City That Forgets
Every morning in the village of Nareth, people awoke to the same terrifying truth: they remembered nothing of the day before. Names were forgotten. Faces unfamiliar. Even their own reflections sparked confusion. The entire town was caught in a relentless cycle of amnesia, cursed to forget each sunset’s story by the time dawn arrived.
By subah alenzi6 months ago in Horror
Just Another Dead Girl Underwater. Content Warning.
Trigger Warning: implications of death, violence and sexual harassment By the time the fisherman finds me, I will have been dead for thirty-three hours, six minutes, and twenty-nine seconds. Eighteen hours since the police declared me missing. Fifteen hours since Zoe told my biology teacher that my tent was empty, that I hadn’t returned from the party we’d snuck out to the night before. Careful, quiet, every twig a possible snitch. It was exhilarating, our hearts pounding, the smell of pine and seaweed thick in the air, and the moon a perfectly curved sickle.
By Muhammad Sabeel6 months ago in Horror
Sack of Bones
Content Warning: brief mentions of chilf abuse and domestic violence. I can’t tell if the yowling’s for the dead or the heat. It’s cicada hiss and lawn mower growl hot—so hot, it’s disrespectful. But as Dad shovels dirt over Papa, I’m cold. I can't cry, and it feels like sin.
By Muhammad Sabeel6 months ago in Horror
Imagine Transcendence
The cool blues and grays of the monitor screen painted Lisa’s tired face, reflecting another hour lost scrolling through an endless, bland expanse of generic stock photos. Each sterile image felt less like potential and more like a tiny, suffocating box, a visual echo of the creative and financial constraints pressing in on her. The rent was a looming shadow, freelance gigs felt like distant mirages, and her creative well felt not just dry, but actively parched, cracked earth under a relentless sun. But beneath the surface of this everyday struggle, there was a deeper, more profound ache. A hunger for something *more*. A yearning for transcendence, for beauty that wasn't commodified or diluted, for a connection that felt utterly lacking in her current, mundane reality. She felt tethered, not just by finances, but by the sheer, uninspiring weight of the ordinary world, longing for a glimpse of something impossible, something that pulsed with genuine life and meaning, something that mirrored a hidden, unexpressed part of herself.
By Maxim Dudko6 months ago in Horror
The Hollow Beneath the Pines. AI-Generated.
It was the summer of 2012 when I visited a remote village in southern France with my cousin Adrien. The kind of place where phones lose signal, and time slows down to match the hum of crickets. At the edge of the village stood an ancient pine forest, rumored by locals to be “cursed.” They called it La Forêt Creuse—The Hollow Forest. Of course, we laughed it off. At seventeen, curses were just stories meant to keep kids indoors. But I’ve never quite laughed about it since.
By Sherooz khan6 months ago in Horror
