psychological

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

December 25th Repeats
I wake up to bells. Not church bells—those stopped ringing years ago—but the cheap electronic chime of my alarm clock playing a distorted version of “Jingle Bells.” The sound drills straight into my skull. My eyes open before I can stop them.
By Modhilraj24 days ago in Horror
The Carol That Knows Your Name
The first time it happened, I thought I was mishearing it. Christmas Eve had settled into the apartment like dust—quiet, soft, unavoidable. Outside, the city glowed in muted colors, strings of lights blinking in tired rhythms, as if even joy needed rest. I sat alone at the small kitchen table with a cup of reheated coffee, the radio murmuring to fill the silence. I always kept it on during holidays. Silence had a way of remembering things I tried not to.
By Modhilraj24 days ago in Horror
The Night No One Heard the Screams: A Haunting Story of Silence, Shadows, and the Questions That Still Linger
Introduction: When Silence Became the Loudest Witness Some nights slip quietly into history, leaving no trace beyond a date on a calendar. Others linger, heavy with unanswered questions and a silence so deep it feels deliberate. The Night No One Heard the Screams belongs to the second kind. It’s a phrase that chills the spine because it suggests something went terribly wrong—yet nothing stopped it. No neighbors called. No alarms rang. No sirens broke the darkness in time.
By X Crime25 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 25 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 25 days ago in Horror
Oracle.ink. Content Warning.
It started as a joke. That’s the part I keep coming back to. The app was called Oracle.ink. Clean interface. Almost aggressively minimalist. No developer name, no company page—just five-star reviews and a single line beneath the logo:
By hiba abo shawish25 days ago in Horror
The Mist Has One of the Most Messed Up Endings in Horror History
The Mist is one of my favorite monster horror films of all time. I had watched this movie with my family, and once the ending came around, we were all in absolute shock with that ballsy ending. The Mist was originally a novel written by Stephen King, and while I love the book, the ending in my opinion, is far better in the film.
By Emy Quinn25 days ago in Horror
One Last Dewdrop
October 13.Toronto, Canada. I am a PhD student, far from home, far from comfort. To save money, I live in a shared apartment. My room is small, just a bed, a desk, and a window that looks at another building. I share the flat with a Canadian woman. She works in a shop somewhere in Ontario, not too far from Toronto. We don’t talk much. Just polite smiles, short hellos, nothing more.
By Evxian Zx26 days ago in Horror
Whispers in the Hospital Ward:. AI-Generated.
The hospital ward was quiet at night. Machines hummed softly, monitors blinked, and the faint fragrance of antiseptic lingered in the air. Patients slept in their beds, nurses moved silently from room to room, and the world outside seemed far away. Yet in that silence, whispers began to rise—faint, fragile, but impossible to ignore.
By The Writer...A_Awan27 days ago in Horror
The Snow Outside Never Stopped. AI-Generated.
Elias Rowe hated winter, not because of the cold, but because winter remembered things he tried to forget. His cabin sat deep in the northern woods, isolated by design. No neighbors. No roads once the snow piled high enough. Just trees, silence, and the slow ticking of time inside his head.
By shakir hamid27 days ago in Horror
The Snow That Knows Your Name. AI-Generated.
The first snow fell too early that year. In Hollowridge, winter was expected to arrive slowly — teasing the town with frost before committing. But this time, it came overnight. By morning, rooftops were buried, roads erased, and the forest surrounding the town stood frozen in a thick white silence.
By shakir hamid27 days ago in Horror
🌑THE GRANDMOTHER WHO KNIT THE NIGHT. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
I used to walk home with a friend who lived just a few houses away from me. Same school. Same boring classes. Same jokes we repeated every day.
By REalLLy22527 days ago in Horror