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.
Ariana's Father
Ariana caressed the miniature gargoyle then gently set it down on the windowsill. She stared out the window towards the dark forest. The brightness of the valley made it impossible to see anything past the tree line. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought of her home, but she wouldn't let them fall. Her dad wanted her to be brave and strong. She smelled Matthew's cologne but stubbornly refused to turn around. He knocked on the open door of her bedroom. Ha! No matter how comfortable the bed felt or how well her new clothes fit, this would never be her home.
By A Michelle Mills5 years ago in Horror
The Night Therapist
Her name was Ana, and she lived as a prisoner within the cage of her bones. That sense of trapped and stunted identity was what brought her to the clinic on Bat Moon Street. It walked her along the cracked sidewalk under the cloudy night, her eyes on the concrete beneath her shoes. Sensible shoes with low heels and closed toes. Librarian shoes, clasping tender feet that rarely came out after dark. Watching her from the window above the striped awning, I could imagine the trembling thrill that gripped her. How daring she was, to leave her safe, lamplit apartment and its familiar solitude to wander along this dim street. How brave, to enter this neighborhood of after-sunset trade, alone and small amidst the old buildings with their aggressive griminess and narrow stairwells like tunnels of night. Yes, I could feel her heart quaking from three stories up. That is how it begins here, evening upon evening, the supplicants arriving, begging to be freed.
By Liz Zimmers5 years ago in Horror
Perilous Delivery
Chapter 4 First Victim The following morning, both Caleb and Vanessa were tired, Pedro and Macrina had both asked to come sleep in their parents’ bed that evening. They had said that they had seen “the lady” coming. Stella had been growling and barking at various rooms, and whenever Caleb would turn the light on the room would be empty. They were fortunate to have gotten some sleep that evening, however, for the most part their sleep was sporadic at best.
By Kevin J.N. Hughes5 years ago in Horror
Unlost
Today is the day after armageddon, and I've decided to learn how to draw. It's not actually the day after armageddon, but I was trapped in the shelter until yesterday, so this is the first time I've actually witnessed It. I haven't seen any other people yet, only some insects and what might have been a gull in the distance, but it's hard to see inside many of the wrecked houses. Maybe they're hiding. Maybe scared. Probably dead.
By Russel Porosky5 years ago in Horror
d o n o t d i s t u r b .
Maverick Monroe could only laugh in a hushed tone to himself as he cradled his head in his hand; with closed eyes he began to rub his eyebrows as if a migraine had just engulfed him, he knew it was not the physical pain, rather the unmistakable monotonous tone and repetitive lyrics of a nightmarish song being sung by a familiar face that currently had his head in a handbasket.
By M. Cartoon5 years ago in Horror
The Black Notebook
Elton was walking home from his late shift at the Supermart. Taking a short cut, he turned off the main road onto a street comprising a row of body shops and a scrap yard. This stretch of deserted, potholed bitumen was sketchy at night, he’d had a few close calls in the past, but it cut his trip by ten minutes. There weren’t usually any cars parked on the street at this time, apart from dumped offerings to the god of thieves, their blacken skeletons silent in the dead of night. That’s why the red BMW, parked under one of the sparse streetlights drew his attention.
By Peter Le Chapelain5 years ago in Horror
The Remedy
April 4th, 2015 I don’t know what happened! One second I was walking, the next I’m here...wherever here is. I was deep in thought. I wasn’t paying attention. I tried going back the way I came, but I couldn’t find the trail. I tried every direction. I panicked, and screamed for help. Only my echo came back. That was this morning. I don’t know what else to do. I’m only writing now because I’ve been trained to write down all my stupid feelings. And, at this moment I’m having a lot of them. For one, I’m a massive idiot. I’ve felt that for some time, but this is unbearable. I hate myself for being so stupid! I’m terrified and lost. I think I might be having an anxiety attack. I can’t catch my breath, everything is hazy. What do I do?
By Lauren Green5 years ago in Horror
The Wishing Well
The old wishing well outside of town stood especially lonely today. Thanks to the pandemic, most people didn’t venture this far outside of town. I was not most people and was grateful for the quiet. People weren’t my thing, so nothing changed for me when the rest of the world did except for the massive amount of overtime my employer forced upon me. I didn’t believe in luck or wishes, but these were desperate times and I was willing to toss my last quarter into the depths below for just one wish.
By Neen Edwards5 years ago in Horror
The Bad Hand
San Marco Federal Penitentiary July 24th, 1989 Death row is cold. It’s lonely and unforgiving. It’s mostly quiet, except for the screaming fantasies of freedom that swirl without end in my mind: the sweet smell of cut grass, the light chirps of birds outside my bedroom window, the simple slowing of time during a hot, late-night shower. Those things have escaped me forever.
By Brandi Barta5 years ago in Horror
The 'X'
The tapping on my countertop was ceaseless, the pen in my fingers bouncing up and down against the granite. I was lost in a world of numbers consisting mostly of minus signs. Envelopes lay scattered, messily stacked, and nearly spilling into the sink. Letters, bills, eviction warnings, strewn in disarray. I tried to keep everything in order, or as orderly as it comes with me. Sorting bills from most urgent to least. Though, rent had to be at the top of this stack no matter how I arranged it, given the addendum in the last heated letter from my landlord. If I don't pay rent on time this month, then I'm through.
By Sonjayah Pittman5 years ago in Horror
Illyana, Illyana
My name is Illyana Lewis and right now I am being castrated by my grandmother. I love her I really do, but today is not the time. I just lost my mother a week ago and I am still going through this nightmare. She was my best friend, my rock, and my emotional support. Now that she was gone I had no clue how I would make it. As of right now, it was not going well at all. My grandmother, who never agreed with my mother in how I was raised was very disappointed with me. She thought I should be doing more to find a suitable husband to help bring money in for this family. By now I was holding back tears, trying to give the impression that I was listening to her, but at the same time allowing everything she said to go in one ear and out the other.
By Justin Higgins5 years ago in Horror
