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.
Worms
Tightly holding the rope that served as the dog’s collar, the man sat on the edge of the ledge and peered down at the shoreline. The mongrel had given up on its barking for a moment and sat panting next to him. Down on the shore were three thick pinkish tentacle-like things laying across the rocky beach, nearly touching the cliff face.
By Frank Shaw4 years ago in Horror
Killers?
"Wake up! Wake up! Hey Princess, wake up!!" My best friend Andy is trying to wake me. She knows better than to call me "Princess". When she reaches for my shoulder I grab her forearm and give a strong squeeze while glaring daggers into her eyes. "The only Princess here is you", I say through gritted teeth. Andy looks at her forearm that's still in my grasp, after another squeeze my hand releases her arm. "If you were awake you'd see that we're finally here", she says trying to act tough.
By Lucy Torralba4 years ago in Horror
An Unexpected Offer
“Sasha, is that you?” “Yeah.” She stepped into the light and smiled, “it’s me.” “I—,” Michael tilted his head towards the sky and sighed heavily before looking back down. “I’m sorry. I know what I did was wrong but,” he wiped at his eyes, sniffed, “but I just wanted to tell you that.”
By Deion Slocombe 4 years ago in Horror
The House Surgeon
Moving to a new home is difficult for everyone. To begin with, there’s the financial issue. Mortgage is not cheap, even when you move to the smallest house with the least amount of rooms while still maintaining the basic needs for the owner. An apartment tends to be a better option, but landlords are the greediest creatures known to mankind, always raising rent almost every month until your next paycheck no longer satisfies their hunger. Such bastard descendants of dragons who hoard gold to themselves. At least dragons burn down villages and castles to put the people out of their misery and encourage a brave knight to kill the creature.
By Olivia Halonska4 years ago in Horror
The Strain
Rain beat down on the windscreen of the car as the wipers squeaked their best to clear it. Edith couldn’t help but feel sleepy in the back seat, with the monotony of the wipers and warm air that blew from the vents keeping her protected from the hideous weather outside. She blinked hard to keep herself awake and looked down at her wrinkly hands interlocked in her lap. She longed to hold Frank’s hand again. The ache in her heart had not subsided over the years since his death.
By John Moroney4 years ago in Horror
The Crate
The sun had begun to set behind the Rockies in an explosion of yellow, orange, and red hues across the sky. There was just enough light available for the six men to bring the wagon up to the abandoned cabin. Two had ridden on the wagon while the other four were on horseback. Two of the riders had an additional horse led by a rope behind them. As the driver of the wagon halted the horses, the younger, Carl, lept down and ran into the cabin. Slowly, lanterns began to illuminate the aged, wooden structure. The Coy Gang often used the dilapidated cabin as a hideout to sort through their ill-gotten gains. It was out of the way and nowhere near well-traveled roads.
By Michael Brockbank4 years ago in Horror
Don't Look Up
Darkness settled as I rushed through the woods, blanketing me with every step as though to suffocate me. The deeper I ventured into the woods, the colder it got. Though despite the bitter squall bearing down on me, pushing me deeper into the darkness I felt only a numbness that was slowly adding to my deep despair. The little flecks of moonlight that were left peaking through the clouds did little to light my way, succeeding only to make the shadows of the twisted bare trees seem to reach for me. They seemed to be stretching their branches like gnarled rotting hands, reaching ever towards me as if to feel my warmth as though they could sense my presence. The shadows added to my paranoia as I pushed forward, desperate to make it to where I could finally rest. I had to get away from the thing that had thoroughly plagued what seemed like endless days of torment leading up to that night, finally pushing me to attempt to escape if only for a few fleeting moments. As I started up the drive to the old cabin, my last attempt at safety came into view. The old building covered in rough wood siding was like an old friend, supportive and caring, and hopefully secluded enough that that thing wouldn't be able to find me. Dead leaves drifted around my feet like lost souls as I climbed the sagging wood steps to the porch, and entered the gaping maw of the old house. I turned on the living room light, and it feebly flickered to a dim glow in the center of the room. I scoured the small cabin, searching the darkened rooms and corners shrouded in shadow, finding nothing I began to relax, sitting on the sheet-covered couch. Then with a cold sense of creeping dread, I looked up.
By Emma Weathers4 years ago in Horror
Wake Up
The night winds howled outside my rain-covered window, and I wondered what I was doing at Hathaway House. Hathaway House was a giant prison, a square, broad building, all brown and architecturally astounding, and full of tiny eyes that were called cells. All the lights of all the rooms in Hathaway House, or Halfway House as I jokingly called it, gleamed in the night. Each room contained a ghost or two and were colored according to the emotions they had when dying. Some were blue, some were red, some were gold. At least, that’s the story I liked to tell myself. I was prisoner #1137 out of 4,195, on the floor full of convicts, murderers, adulterers, fornicators, and addicts. And I was all alone, listening to screams and hearing my own internal ones.
By Courtney Wood4 years ago in Horror
