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-Eyed Boy. AI-Generated.
They say the dead don’t walk in Marrow Creek—but no one explains the muddy footprints that appear each morning outside the chapel or the boy with hollow eyes who stares through people like glass. Folks stopped asking after the autumn of ’47, the year Josiah Vex came down from the mountain.
By DARK TALE CO. 18 days ago in Horror
The Hum in the Walls
The house was not old by historical standards—built in the booming 1980s, all fake brick and cheap drywall—but there was a kind of tiredness about it, a psychic sag that seemed to pull the light out of the rooms. Arthur Blackwood, a man who believed in tax deductions more than ghosts, had bought the place for a steal after the previous owners, the Harrisons, had simply... vanished. No note, no struggle, just a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the breakfast table and a terrifying, inexplicable silence.
By Jason “Jay” Benskin21 days ago in Horror
The Grimoire of Elizabeth. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
In the small town of Elderwood, Massachusetts, stood an old Victorian mansion built in 1875. The Harper family—Michael, Sarah, and their children, seventeen-year-old Olivia and twelve-year-old Elijah—purchased it at an unexpectedly low price.
By Mr. Usevolod Voskoboinikov21 days ago in Horror
When the TV Woke at Midnight:. AI-Generated.
The first time it happened, I thought it was a glitch. The television in our living room flickered to life at exactly midnight, its screen glowing against the heavy silence of the house. I had fallen asleep on the couch, and the sudden burst of light startled me awake. The channels began to flip rapidly, as though invisible fingers were pressing the remote.
By The Writer...A_Awan22 days ago in Horror
The Last Call: A Horror Story That Knows the Exact Time of Your Death. AI-Generated.
The Last Call The first thing people noticed about Building 9A was how quiet it was. Too quiet. No children played in the corridors. No televisions hummed behind closed doors. Even during the day, the building felt frozen in time, as if sound itself refused to stay there for long. But the rent was cheap, and the city was expensive, so people moved in anyway.
By shakir hamid22 days ago in Horror
Red On Yellow. Content Warning.
I swirl my wine in one hand, feet crossed and resting on the wooden coffee table. In the dim, warm light of our lounge room, the rich liquid looks black through the delicate glass. I have one arm resting on the back of the lounge, but remove it to check my watch; gold straps with a black-backed timepiece. In the silence I can hear its soft click as the seconds tick by.
By I. D. Reeves22 days ago in Horror
THE NIGHT THE SNOW WAS MARKED
In early February of 1855, southern England went to sleep under a heavy blanket of snow. It was the kind of winter night that muffles sound, erases detail, and turns familiar streets into pale, quiet corridors. Villages locked their doors. Farmers secured their animals. Churches stood dark and still.
By The Insight Ledger 24 days ago in Horror
THE HOTEL THAT KEPT A SCORE
In downtown Los Angeles, a few blocks from where the city sells its dreams in neon and billboards, stands a building that never learned how to forget. From the outside, the Cecil Hotel looks like a relic—tall, symmetrical, unimpressive in a way that makes it easy to miss. Thousands of people have walked past it without noticing. Thousands more have slept inside it without knowing its history.
By The Insight Ledger 24 days ago in Horror
