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.
You Will be Hungry, Dear
I woke up with the sun this morning. Without the familiar metropolitan lullaby that I’m used to outside my fifth storey apartment window, I spent my first week here barely sleeping. I still can’t identify the animal sounds outside during the night, but now that I’ve been here nearly a month I’m sleeping better than I ever have, accompanied by a chorus of what I’m certain are crickets and frogs.
By Rooney Morgan5 years ago in Horror
Monolith 3; Tammy’s Choice
The monolith sat, waiting patiently for centuries. It was sentient, but it would have blushed at such high praise. It felt no need for flattery. There was only one thing that fulfilled it, and it had been a long time since it had that treat. It ached to feel sated.
By Shawn Ingram5 years ago in Horror
If at first you don't succeed
Skinner #2 There was a loud knock at the door. Startled, Valerie pulled the curtains back slightly to peer out of the window into the darkness. The headlights of the car in the driveway, created a long silhouette on the sidewalk. She turned on the porch light and through the window, she could see officer Potts. She wondered what he was doing back, he had given her a ride home hours earlier, after she was checked out and released from the emergency room.
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden5 years ago in Horror
Don't worry, baby
Chloe allowed Rachel the smallest possible measure of real estate in her mind. She flattened, folded, curved Rachel into unspeakable shapes, unforgivable formations, a constant punishment for being not quite, very nearly so, but never close enough to cross the divide.
By Kelly Mintzer5 years ago in Horror
A Pleasant Night on Ichorous Waves
There was no question that the blade resting in Cosette's hands was a genuinely unique artifact, a custom weapon from a far-removed time. Most swords sold by the antique dealers of the Maghreb were made from common iron that vanished beneath centuries of rust and rot, hastily ornamented and sold to unwary Europeans for fifty times their actual worth. This piece, on the other hand, was authentic Damascus steel – Cosette could tell that much as she ran her knowledgeable fingers along the distinctive patterns that ran the length of the blade. Authentic, too, was the ruby-eyed silver sea serpent that twined around the hilt, its hungry jaws eternally clamped around the tang. Each detail, each tiny etching and delicate feature, was the work of a master who had toiled at the ornament for untold hundreds of hours.
By Andrew Johnston5 years ago in Horror
Karma
The grass waved as a gentle breeze ran through it filling the air with the fragrance of dandelions and the mossy smell of the oak trees in the distance. There was a tall young man standing in the middle of the small, empty field behind the small house dressed in dark yoga pants and an oversized black tee shirt. He was practicing his own form of meditation yoga. A girl had appeared behind him dressed almost exactly like him except for a gigantic grey sun hat. “Tommy!” she yelled after tackling him to the ground with a hug. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
By Stephy Doe5 years ago in Horror
