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.
Till Death
Freija woke from her slumber and a smile curled at her lips. It had been a good night. She could feel Trevor’s warm, toned body pressed up against her, his arms wrapped cozily around her waist. She fit perfectly into him. It was a good feeling. A damn good feeling, she thought to herself, waking up in a man’s arms. She missed it tremendously. It had been almost 2 and a half years since she laid like this with a man.
By Linda Hippolyte5 years ago in Horror
A Box of Night
I never left Cairo with the division. Over the following three days, fourteen soldiers died of a mysterious ailment, two of them army photographers. The men were billeted in the desert at the edge of the city in a small village of tents. Many of them were conscripts, the “odds and sods” who had been called into service because of the great need for men. Out there, in the heat and the sand, they began to die without apparent illness or injury, in gruesome fashion. A man might climb into his bunk whole and hale and never wake again. The bodies of the dead were shriveled and papery, like husks. The eyes stared, bulging from their sockets, pupils blown to wide, dark windows. The jaws hung open in silent screams. They looked like nothing so much as mummies, except for their horrifying expressions. They were men staring into an unspeakable abyss.
By Liz Zimmers5 years ago in Horror
Can't You See the Sign?
Sign, sign, everywhere a sign. That line was his favourite. He preferred the Tesla version of the song, even though the original was written by a Canadian band. Being a Canadian himself, he had a fondness for homegrown music, but there was just something about Jeff Keith’s raspy voice that made him shiver inside. It was those feelings that drove him to be a musician in the first place, that and the killer rock 'n' roll lifestyle.
By Desmond James5 years ago in Horror
Abduction
I was sitting in my room, or cell, if you really want my opinion, writing in my journal. It was hard to write with the rubber ink pens the ward provided. Equally as hard, was writing anything involving any length. They are, after all, only four-inch pens so handwriting the Dead Sea Scrolls or telling my memoirs was an impossible goal to achieve. I could, however, I could write to myself or in the journal the ward provided all of the patients. This was my morning routine. Well, it would be my routine, after I do it for a while. I started working on this plan to fill my days while I suffered through the boredom of the weekend, anxiously awaiting my Monday session.
By Jason Ray Morton 5 years ago in Horror
The Wilds
To read chapter 1 click here! With Layla and himself piled into the truck, Jasper drove them to the kill site. His half-eaten sandwich and fries were sitting on the center console of the truck, the mug of coffee jammed into a cupholder and surrounded by old coffee stains. He offered her some before grabbing a french fry, “It isn’t wolves. Maybe a grizzly bear…”
By Kelsey Reich5 years ago in Horror
Sisters
Boredom. It eats away at the brain like a fly on a carcass, alone in the desert. Devouring and salivating at the next morsel of energy it can find. Well, that’s at least how Eliza and Meghan saw boredom when waiting for their parents to get ready for an outing. Downstairs they sat in their old, creaky house of heritage which had been passed on as many times as a deadly pandemic. Quiet and lonely sat the house, with not a friend in the world, leaving it bitter and cold on the tip of a hill. Like an old spinster, the house now held secrets and stories unwilling to share with anyone, except the impressionable.
By Emily-Jo Davidson5 years ago in Horror
