psychological

Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.

The Hollow Girl’s New Skin: A True Haunting at Blackvale Orphanage
Season 2 ______________________________________________ PROLOGUE: THE TRANSFER Blackvale Orphanage - December 21, 1986
By Tales That Breathe at Night9 months ago in Horror
The Mirror in Room 213
The Mirror in Room 213 The Ashgrove Inn stood abandoned on the edge of a forgotten highway, its windows boarded, its paint flaking like old scabs. Locals whispered about the place but never lingered. Only one room ever bore a name whispered louder than the rest — Room 213.
By Rony Sutradar9 months ago in Horror
The Love ❤
It was a late summer evening when Claire first met Eli, though neither of them knew it would be the start of something that would change their lives forever. Claire was sitting at the corner table in her favorite coffee shop, a spot she had claimed as her own for the past two years. The air was thick with the hum of conversation, the gentle clinking of cups, and the faint scent of freshly ground coffee beans. She was lost in a book, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her mug, when the door chimed, signaling someone’s arrival. Eli stepped inside, his gaze scanning the room as he shook the rain from his jacket. He hesitated at the counter, unsure of what to order. His presence, though unremarkable in a crowd, had a certain quiet intensity that caught Claire’s attention. She glanced up over the edge of her book and noticed his hesitation, the way he lingered, as though trying to fit himself into the rhythm of the room. For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she felt a pull to him, like a thread tugging at her heart. Maybe it was the way he wore his uncertainty so naturally, or how the world around him seemed to quieten whenever he entered a space. After a moment of contemplation, Claire stood and walked to the counter, her coffee in hand. “You look like you’re about to solve a great mystery,” she said with a smile, trying to make light of the situation. Eli blinked, momentarily startled, then chuckled. “I guess I am,” he replied. “I’m trying to figure out whether the latte or the cappuccino will make me feel more human.” Claire grinned. “You’re in the right place for questions like that. The cappuccino is more serious, but the latte is easier to love.” A moment of quiet passed between them, the soft hum of the shop wrapping around their conversation. Eli seemed to relax, his shoulders loosening, and his eyes brightened. “I’ll take the latte then,” he said. “I think I need something easy to love today.” As she paid for his drink and handed it over, something shifted between them. It wasn’t grand or dramatic, but there was a spark—subtle, unspoken, yet undeniably there. Claire didn’t quite know what it was, but she felt it. The next few weeks were a blur of coffee shop encounters—each time Eli seemed to appear just when Claire needed a break from the ordinary. Their conversations began to drift from casual exchanges about coffee to deeper musings about life, art, and the way time seemed to pass without us noticing. They shared stories about their childhoods, their favorite books, and the dreams they were too afraid to speak aloud. Each conversation left them both feeling a little more understood, a little more seen. One afternoon, as autumn’s chill began to bite at the air, Eli appeared at the coffee shop with something different in his eyes—something more certain. He slid into the chair across from Claire, his fingers curling around his cup as he smiled gently. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice quieter than usual. “We’ve talked about everything under the sun, and I keep wondering… When was the moment I knew?” Claire raised an eyebrow. “Knew what?” “That you were someone I’d want to keep in my life,” he said softly. “That this, whatever this is, was real.” Claire’s heart skipped a beat, the words settling into her chest with a warmth she hadn’t expected. She placed her cup down, looking at him with a mix of surprise and understanding. “I think,” she began slowly, “it’s the quiet moments that tell you what words can’t.” Eli nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. The air around them felt thicker now, like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to unfold. And in that moment, everything did. Without a grand gesture, without any dramatic proclamations, they both understood what had quietly been blooming between them. Love wasn’t always loud; sometimes, it was the gentle rhythm of two hearts finding their way to one another, piece by piece, day by day. As the evening wore on and the coffee shop emptied, Claire and Eli remained at their table, talking, laughing, and sharing the kind of silence that felt like home. In a world filled with noise, they had found something simple and real. A quiet love that, over time, would grow stronger, deeper, and more certain—just like the quiet rhythm of their hearts. Click here for more.
By Mr. nuR9 months ago in Horror
The vampire
Tom’s neighbour never came out of the house during the day. At night, he brought home guests who were never seen again. Tom watched obsessed,
By Susan Fourtané 9 months ago in Horror
Under the Skin
It began with a drip. Nina first heard it the night after her grandmother’s funeral. She was staying in the old Victorian house to pack things up for the estate sale. The house, nestled at the edge of a dense forest in Vermont, had always felt strange to her—rooms colder than they should be, mirrors reflecting more than they should, silence thicker than comfort allowed.
By Imran hossain9 months ago in Horror
A Letter to the New Homeowner. Content Warning.
Sleepless nights have kept you drained, searching and searching for someone you know is there, but cannot find. Every creak is a possible footstep from some ruthless home intruder. Yet, even when you doubt yourself you have those thoughts scratching at the back of your mind. Every night I see you check the entrances three times and three times exactly, every lock on every door and every window. Ironically, your safety is your greatest concern in this wonderfully comforting house. Every night you feel the prying of eyes during your most intimate moments. You hear whispers and groans you can’t identify, but you swear they are there. I will tell you everything.
By Alexander McLachlan9 months ago in Horror
The shadow in the night . AI-Generated.
“A Shadow in the Night” Dr. Emma Taylor had always been fascinated by the abandoned asylum on the outskirts of town. Rumors swirled about its dark past, but Emma wasn't one to believe in ghost stories. She was a scientist, driven by curiosity.
By Adim Sophia 9 months ago in Horror
The Death's bargain
The first time Samuel Voss saw Death, he was seven years old. It happened on a cold winter evening when the wind howled through the cracks of his family’s farmhouse. His mother was coughing blood into a handkerchief, her skin as pale as the snow outside. The doctor had left hours ago, shaking his head, muttering about consumption and the inevitability of things.
By I want Peace 🕊️9 months ago in Horror
THE HOLLOW GIRL OF BLACKVALE ORPHANAGE
Season 1.. CHAPTER 1: THE SILENCE THAT GREETS YOU Eli, arrives at Blackvale Orphanage for a summer caretaker job.
By Tales That Breathe at Night9 months ago in Horror
The Blue Checkmark
She tried to scream, but the sound stuck in her throat like shards of broken glass. The figure visible in the window remained motionless, standing there against the flickering neon of the motel—an obsidian outline pressed against the glass as if it had stamped itself on her soul.
By Jason “Jay” Benskin9 months ago in Horror
Things You Can't Say three. Content Warning.
The way that he spoke to me felt so damn patronizing. The whole ‘good girl’ thing was really starting to get under my skin. Especially the cooing tone that he was using to say every single damn ‘compliment’. It was really starting to piss me off. And this sudden urge to just hurt him was overwhelming for me. An idea to just headbutt him in the balls cropped up as I stood there. Eating the worst version of chili dogs that I had ever eaten in my life. It wasn’t terrible tasting but terrible looking. I dismissed the violent thought while I was eating my food the best that I could. There was no way in Hell that would go over well. He would retaliate with worse violence. After all the man can easily lift and carry me around like I’m a ragdoll. It makes me fear what he could do to me if he was properly angry with me and not just lifting me around.
By Raphael Fontenelle9 months ago in Horror
The Girl and the Darkness
Once upon a time, in a quiet village, there lived a young girl named Luma. She had bright eyes and loved to play in the sunlight. But one day, the sun didn’t rise. The sky turned black, and a deep Darkness covered the world.
By Ashikur Rahman Bipul9 months ago in Horror