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.
Wishes do come true.
This had been the worst week of Marty Underbridge’s life. He had been knocked down and kicked in the face more in the last few days than he had in his entire 40 years of life. He had come home Monday after a particularly busy day of work, he had told a record number of people that he couldn’t approve their loans, including an old woman who needed to purchase a proper grave stone for her deceased husband. He worked at a local credit union as a loan officer, recently the credit union had put a moratorium on personal loans due to “budgetary constraints and business shifts,” whatever that meant, greed most likely. He had arrived home Monday, dog-tired, wanting nothing more than to flip on the T.V. and zone out with a scotch in his hand. One of the few pleasures in his life was purchasing and savoring top-shelf scotch and whisky, he had a small collection in his office. The minute he walked in the door, however, he knew his day was going to get worse. He saw a suitcase, packed and ready, by the stairs. His wife came down from their bedroom and gave him a look of pure distain.
By Jared Brown5 years ago in Horror
I Only Have Eyes for You
Would you like to go on an adventure? He struggled to wrap his brain around what he just saw. After quickly flipping through the small, black leather notebook, its pages clean and empty, he’d landed on the first page as the words materialized from nowhere, the curious red script almost indecipherable at first.
By Eliza Collins5 years ago in Horror
No Change to Spare
No Change to Spare “From what I remember of that night I took a cab home from LAX. It was a Tuesday.” I admitted. I continued to confess about the events of that day, of that night. It felt like it happened in another life and in another time. Sitting there for hours I poured over every detail in my head before letting it spill out of my mouth. I had the cabby drop me off around the corner from my apartment. I don’t know why but it’s something I always do. The weather was nice that night, cool and breezy. Maybe that’s why I liked to be dropped off a few doors away. I was only about a hundred yards from my front door when Casey surprised me from the shadows. For a twenty-six-year-old she dressed like a teenager but if anyone could pull it off it was her. She donned short shorts, a pair of white mismatched knee-high socks, one with two red stripes at the top and the other with one blue stripe. Some obscure band t-shirt that no one but her has ever heard of. The truth is, and she would fiercely deny this, she never really listened to them either. She cruised by on her roller skates, never roller-blades, always roller-skates, spinning around me making me dizzy. I tried to play it off as if she didn’t scare me but she knew that she had. And she knew that I knew that she knew. It was frustrating.
By Jeremy Moran5 years ago in Horror
Fugue
A long time ago, I once heard that guilt is rooted in the actions of the past, perpetuated in the lack of action in the present, and delivered in the future as pain and suffering. Lately that quote’s been stuck in my mind for some reason. Even as I nurse my hangover on the cool lacquered surface of the bar’s counter I’m reciting the words to myself, but I can’t imagine what for.
By Tymil Patterson5 years ago in Horror
Below the Waves
Looking around the empty house, Alex let out a big sigh. Remembering, this was the house she and her son grew up in and at the end where she found both of her parents dead. As much as she wanted to keep this house to retire in her old age in the years to come, she couldn’t let go of the image of seeing both her parents at the breakfast table starring into the abyss. They were there looking towards the dark blue ocean, stiff, blue, and cold. These thoughts haunted her more than just in her dreams. Not understanding how to escape it, but to let go of the beautiful, loving home that now has become a nightmare. A nightmare that she needed to let go of and move onto something new.
By Alexandria Solorzano5 years ago in Horror
Haserot's Secret
The vaulted ceiling echoes the distressed and panicked cries of desperation. Artifacts of daily life are haphazardly strewn about the grand parlor. Books of literature and biographies litter the floor alongside an impressive catalog of 1920's jazz albums and first edition copies of Art Deco magazines. Flowery pungent aromatics of single-malt mingle with the organic skin scent of fine Italian leather upholstery in the Snakewood-lined chamber. The hysterics become drunken laughter of loss.
By Carl DeScott5 years ago in Horror
