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.
Mongrels of Krimea
The sky blazes green atop Krimea, branding the end of another sleepless night. I ponder what I overheard from Zasha weeks ago, of “a time when the heavens glowed blue, and the great valleys held creatures that flew through vast expanses of water.” I have trouble imagining that, though. Green and black paint the landscape of our lives, day in and out.
By Paul Metaxas5 years ago in Horror
Glimmer
A glimmer. That is what caught her eye. A small gleam in an otherwise bleak world. Shifting through the rubble of what once was a home, Dawn had found a small heart-shaped locket that had been lost under the wreckage. She almost laughed at the irony of it all. A lack of love is what led to her scrounging for supplies in abandoned buildings.
By Jesse Haswell5 years ago in Horror
The Girl In The Crooked Woods
She was an adolescent girl, a rather melancholy figure, while her intellect was that of a highly educated woman who walked confidently from the woods on Dover Hill. She knew not exactly where she was going, she only moved to a point where the comforting feeling led. When the light day wind puffed, she suddenly felt cheer filled. When it died back down into a somewhat humid sweltering of noontime heat, her gloomy cloud settled in from above once more again.
By H.L. Dowless Dowless5 years ago in Horror
The Ones Who Watch
My muse sits on the ascetic bed, stroking her luscious auburn mane and staring at the crumbling wall. I sit and observe, utterly entranced by this heavenly figure. AdultFemale#9657, my Catherine, was a ray of light in this world populated by disgusting grey-faced creatures. With an infinite gulf of circuitry between us, I rest back in my chair and take in all the visual delights Catherine provided me. Her cherry lips, so plump and tempting; the disarming blue eyes, inviting pale neck. The heart-shaped locket which frames her neck. Observing her, I feel so alive, more than I felt was possible in this lugubrious world. I touch the glass screen with my putrescent hand and sigh with delight.
By Ashley Bailey5 years ago in Horror
Oh Madeline
The rhythmic melody of the seductive sirens' whispering chant rode upon the midday wind. Inviting, enticing, hexing, seizing hold of mortal mind, invading the very heart, and capturing the very soul. It was a low whisper, it was at first, then it increased in it's gradual volume, until the very curiosity aroused, and one's resistance to it dulled just as gradual.
By H.L. Dowless Dowless5 years ago in Horror
