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.
Spiral Kingdom - The Pirate Queen
by Chatty Forster A young woman ran down the empty street, diving into alley ways and keeping in the shadows. The special package safely in her arms. The sound of soldiers boots getting louder a few streets away, the bells from the castle cracking through the air. Shouts and the turning on of lights in the windows around them. She ducked into an alley and held her breath. Her heart pounded in her chest, so loud she was sure it would bring people to the windows above her hiding place. She listened to the sound of the soldiers fade into the distance and carefully crept out into the street, and raced on. Her slippered feet slapped quietly on the cobbles. She crept on, she could see a solider on the corner his back turned towards her. She could hear the ocean so close. She slipped closer her eyes on the solider making sure he didn’t turn, the sound of clanking of glass suddenly erupted into the quiet street. She saw a bottle skitter across the cobles she must of kicked it accidently. he turned and they stared at each other, his young pale face looking as fearful as hers. The world seems to stop around them then everything rushed back in as he opened his mouth and started shouting for the guards. A light fell across the street as a man opened his front door to see what the fuss on the street was. She dashed passed him into his front room and ran down the corridor out into a small courtyard, flowered vines climbed up the walls, she looked around desperately for an exit, nothing. Hearing the shouting behind her she made a decision; she moved the bundle deeper into her coat and tied it tighter around her. And gripped onto the vines to pull her self up. She felt the thorns pierce her skin but she knew she needed to keep going. The solders swarmed into the small court yard below her, arrows pulled ready. she pulled her self up and over the wall. Just at she felt the arrows wizz around her. She fell into the alley bracing her self and her precious bundle. The sea is up ahead she can see the dark glittering water smell the salt and hear the waves. She rushes on to the beach, looking around her desperately, ‘where was it? Where was it’, she muttered to her self. She stumbled across the sand. Ah the little red row boat a few meters down the beach, the small bundle in her jacket moves and her can feel the strange other heart beat against hers. She pushed the bundle into the bottom of the boat and started dragging it towards the sea. Her body aching with the efforts, a sharp pain in her side, looking down she could see the dark staining spreading across her corset. She gritted her teeth and put her shoulder in to the side and pushed. Almost at the water she ran round to the front and started to drag it into the water. Inch by inch she felt the water lapping at her ankles. Inch by inch she dragged the boat out onto the waves, she could feel her skirts wrapping round her legs dragging her back and forward in the current. Almost pulling her under, she gripped to the side desperately knocked off her feet she managed to climb into the small boat and fell to the bottom panting, soaking wet and breathless. She dragger her self up the side, her head lolling over the edge, she whispered to the darkness a wild call to the ocean for protection, putting her hand to her side cupping at the blood and quickly holding her hand of blood above the ocean praying to the gods for help. she felt a gentle pull on the boat as the new rip tide took then out into the dark ocean, she fell back into the boat exhausted after a moment of breathing into the wooden base feeling the rocking of the boat the women reached out for the bundle. Opening up the fabric she smiled down at the beautiful baby girl big green eyes staring out from a mass of bronze curls. she could hear the soldiers on the beach shouting across the waves, as she and the child are dragged out into the current. She looked quickly up towards the lights of the palace fully lite shinning in the dark like a beacon lighting up the ocean waves around them, the sand and salt stuck to her skin as she looked back on what had been her home for so long, she knew in her heart as the dark blood spread down her dress that she didn’t have long the prophesy must be fulfilled, taking a deep breath she picked up the oars and started to row away from the land. racing away into the darkness of the night, the child was safe for now.
By Chatty Forster5 years ago in Horror
Syringe
Laughter and warmth. Dedication and determination. These are just a few of the words used to describe a man who was always there for his family no matter what situation tried to beat him into submission. Stiff and silent. Dead and cold. These are just a few words to describe the man lying in front of me now. Unfortunately, both men I describe are the same man. My caring, loving grandfather is no longer part of this world, the only remnant of his memory being his lifeless body splayed out on his bedroom floor.
By Dallas Thomas5 years ago in Horror
Purple Ghosts
The gravestones were smoky, touching the jagged cement like falling sand. It wasn’t morning yet, but the dew was already settling on bare branches. There was nothing much to see: only darkness looming in the corners and cracks of haze oozing into sight. Soon light would break, the mist would fade and it would be just a graveyard. Plain, barren. No green, leafy trees, they were bare; no sprouted tufts of grass, only brown blades dotting the ground. An odd place for a graveyard: next to a child's park. It held only a few, poor souls whom nobody came to visit. The place was haunted with purple ghosts that hovered on legless bodies and made you feel things you wouldn't normally feel: other worldy things, magic things. The coloured ghosts exhaled ice, their lungs frozen solid. Frozen in their moment of death. Did they even breathe? Could they? I did not think so. They were caught in the middle of taking a breath. The last breath. I felt uncomfortable things every time I visited this place. Yes, I visited often. There was a single emotion and a memory that lingered inside, trapped, like my lungs in my ribcage, rattling my bones, trying to escape so it could play among the fields with the purple ghosts, and it was free in this place. And more than the freedom, I liked forgetting and becoming lost in something other than myself, and I existed in a world that I did not belong to. It was different to the pain I was used to in my world. Not good, nor bad, just different. I think it was because of this that I gravitated towards them, the ghosts. Or rather, one particular ghost.
By Natalie Hughes5 years ago in Horror
Mashed
Long, winding roads cut deep through trees like veins, veins merge into arteries and a number of these cholesterol-laden arteries ultimately lead to the heart of Dixie. Dozens of towns and cities are scattered across the states in the blessed Southlands of North America. There is a locally owned restaurant and bar that sits in the middle of just one of these towns. The restaurant serves as the main eatery for most of the community. This thriving business is having a special offer tonight, the same as every other Halloween night that preceded this one. Any customer ordering food while wearing a full Halloween costume will receive their meals half-off from the menu price. Patrons wearing only a partial costume or just simply wearing a mask with an otherwise normal outfit will be granted access to the illustrious salad bar. The understated white sign on top of the establishment reads, “Mom and John’s” in Blue and Red lettering.
By Destry Gilmore5 years ago in Horror
The Briefcase
Strange whispers strayed the man from his path; they were unintelligible and soothing noises of which spoke no true words, yet he could sense their intended meaning, this way and that they would guide him under branch, over root, through boggy mud, and around bushes. Though walking calmly throughout, so wearied was he, he took no notice of no longer being betwixt house and road, but within forest. The whispers grew joyous as they seemed to cheer 'he found us! He found us!'
By Charles Robertson5 years ago in Horror
Mortimer's Adventure
Named MoleSk'ine pronounced Mole-Ski-NUH, but the nuh is slightly subtle; almost dropping completely off and silent at the end. Which Mortimer thought was fitting since all the book did was cause him to be entangled in grave and dangerous peril.
By Joshua Johnson5 years ago in Horror
When Dreams Come True
Roy rifled the last trashcan on his city park evening route. He scored a few cans, cigarette butts, some half-full take-out boxes, a newspaper — which was handy on dewy nights to keep the wet off his blanket. It’d pass for a rolling paper, too, since he couldn’t bum any today. He headed for his last stop.
By Jennifer Johansson5 years ago in Horror
The Impossible Room
The house stood at the corner of a fairly quiet residential street. It was tall and old fashioned, with large windows and a heavy metal knocker on the front door. The yellow shingles that covered the sides of the house were in slight dissonance with the dark green tiles of the roof, and part of the gutter where the rainwater collected had become dislodged during a violent storm. The grass had not been tended in the months the house had been unoccupied, and scraggly bits of crab grass had begun to inch their way over the stone path leading up to the front porch.
By Lauren Michelle5 years ago in Horror
