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.
Christmas Eve '96
By midnight of Christmas Eve, much of Fuselier Street was hushed. The young children who were trying to stay up to meet Santa Claus had fallen asleep and were carried away to their rooms by their parents, who made their way to their beds almost immediately after tucking them in. This left the teenagers to make up the majority of people who were still up. Five of which were together at the Cormiers’ house. Henry, Carter, Ava, Hudson, and Paisley. They knew each other from school, and since the farthest distance between them was no more than fifty feet, they asked their parents if they could spend the night at Henry’s house, and luckily Henry’s parents approved as did most of the other parents. There were two more who were invited, Lucas and Caroline, who are siblings, but their parents wanted the family to be all together for Christmas with no split time or late starts to any traditions.
By De'Ondre Goodley4 years ago in Horror
Real Ghost Stories You Won’t Want to Read at Night
The best apparition stories feel so genuine, so trustworthy, thus totally cooling that they basically promise you somewhere around one evening (while possibly not more) spent thrashing around while tuning in for squeaking floors and the sound of spooky groaning. Obviously, that is the oddity innate in apparition stories. The better they are, the more terrible you'll rest around evening time. This is valid regardless of whether you're a deep rooted otherworldly adherent you know, the kind of individual who has remembered insights concerning Halloween's starting points, knows the history behind Halloween beasts, and spends Friday the thirteenth perusing Ouija board stories.
By Sivaya ram4 years ago in Horror
I Think I Remember.
Christie thought she would stop by her old job site just to say hello to her former co-workers. She was happy to see everyone, it had been almost 2 years since she went to a different building. She started talking to one of the guys she used to work with, Cary who became a Manager there right after she left.
By Crystal McGraw4 years ago in Horror
"Of Freeing The Lost"
“OF FREEING THE LOST” By CHRIS M RICHARDS I believe I received my calling when I was around the age of ten. I witnessed a kitten being run over by a car. I immediately ran to save it. It was barely alive and in agony. It looked at me with devastation, desperation and had a hope in its eyes that I would help it. This I found difficult to accept so I simply pulled my first pocketknife I had received the previous year as a present for my birthday and cut the kitten’s throat. It began to gush blood out onto the road. The sight to me was beautiful, a bit gross but all glorious as the kitten died. I had freed it of its pain. I did the right thing. Do not tell me you would not have done the same.
By Chris M Richards4 years ago in Horror
The Fungus Among Us
She always felt as though she was a friendly person, outgoing and empathetic. On a daily basis she always tried to help where help was needed; from an open ear listening to the latest baby daddy drama to being the DD to people who didn't invite her to the "awesomest party". She didn't hold grudges, well much anyway, and her friends all thought she was "nice." She had a comfortable life, normal friends and a semi normal HS life. She didn't dress weird, look weird or talk weird. She kept her head below the radar and didn't "rock the boat" per se. She liked normal foods like fast food from "Da Arches" as her best friend Abby calls it. That was their place. They would cut English class fourth period with Creepy Mr. Johnson and go get fries and a Strawberry milk shake and laugh at the "old biddies" with blue hair and crocheting club that always met in the back corner of the dining room every day, something all Upstate South Carolinian women did…promising each other they would "never be like that."
By Heather McCallum4 years ago in Horror
On the Slab
It was just after 3:05 AM on Miguel's graveyard shift at the city's morgue and only a few hours into his shift. He was inspecting a deceased body, a Jane Doe from a car accident that happened earlier that day. In his own world, Mozart plays in his earbuds. THUMP THUMP... Every few minutes he stretched his neck, arms, and hands to try and keep his tiredness at bay. There can only be so many energy drinks a person can drink before the effects no longer work. THUMP THUMP... With his magnifying goggles Miguel was stitching up the woman's pale blue-gray throat that was covered with red raw lasherations. The various organs in metal bowls from the autopsy. THUMP THUMP...
By Oswaldo Gomez Zamora4 years ago in Horror
