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.
Keepsake
The movers had finally gotten the last of the cardboard boxes removed from the bowels of the semi-trailer and into the house. They looked tired but determined—scurrying about in that way one does when one gets paid by the job and not by the hour. They hurried from room to room, leaving boxes stacked high and irregular, like half finished games of Jenga. The boxes were all stamped with the moving company logo—the big smiling faces of three corporate-looking hipster dudes who looked like they had just dropped a tab of PCP. Their busts were underscored with the caption, 3 MEN AND A TRUCK. WE MOVE SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO!
By R. Tilden Smith5 years ago in Horror
The Little Black Book
Marisol couldn’t believe her luck. She pushed open the front door of her new home and swatted at cobwebs. Velvet curtains hung precariously from rods bending with the weight, and blocked what little light dappled through the live oaks surrounding the cottage. The tiny one-bedroom abode sat in the forgotten back corner of the LeBlanc estate. ‘LeBlanc’ a suitable name for the woman who’d just hired her, as she resembled an old white witch.
By Camille Cavanagh5 years ago in Horror
Smells like teen spirit
The first time I heard Smells like teen spirit we were having dinner and my father was beating the shit out of my mother. The TV was on, and some talking head was expressing his solemn contempt for the “senseless anthem of an apathetic generation.” On the screen, pon pon girls with hairy armpits bounced up and down, while Kurt Cobain’s scream grew louder and more desperate: a denial, a denial, a denial…
By Serafina Spedetti5 years ago in Horror
Ouroboros
Katherine! Kate stared in puzzlement at the little black notebook she'd pulled from her bag. The hard cover was plastered with stickers; some so worn that they were nothing more than white, misshapen blobs, while others seemed to have come from some sort of vintage store. They were all layered over one another, carelessly arranged as if a child had done it. She flipped the book open to the first page, astounded to find the calculated and deliberate strokes of someone who was most certainly not a child.
By Diana Morales5 years ago in Horror
Loop
Hey sir! Are you okay? Sir? I bent down to shake him, hoping he was just asleep. There was no movement. I check for a pulse and finding none. Oh shit he’s dead! I stand up and take two steps back tripping over something heavy and falling to the ground.
By Antonease Poindexter5 years ago in Horror








