psychological
Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.
Beyond Belief
I tell myself (fairly often) that I do not believe in ghosts, right? I feel like if I don't believe, I won't see or hear them around me. That proved to not be the case at all! Spirits will make themselves known if they want to be acknowledged. You are at home alone and something falls on the floor.
By Latoya Giles 4 years ago in Horror
The Last Climb
The Mountain Part Three- The Last Climb There was a stillness within the cab, an almost quiet tension. No music, nothing to be heard. Just the hum of the car’s engine as it ascended the old road, mirroring each curve and turn with precision. This was a mission in its infancy. A mission to end the nightmares and harrow. This was it; the last climb.
By J. B. Arnold4 years ago in Horror
The Worst Nightmare of All: Watching your Loved Ones Die.
Death is a natural process that happens to everyone. It is something that we all have to go through. However, when someone we love dies, it can be one of the most difficult things we ever experience in our lives. Death is often sudden and unexpected, which can make it even harder to cope with. There are a number of different ways to cope with the death of a loved one, but it is important to find what works best for you. It is also important to remember that there is no right or wrong way to deal with the death of a loved one.
By Alain Saamego4 years ago in Horror
Becoming Madeline
Late spring in the Pacific Northwest can turn on you. The wind is sharp and cold, biting at my neck, and I realize the sun’s sultry dance through my windows earlier was brilliant cat-fishing. I pull the hood of my sweatshirt up and shove my fists into the front pocket.
By Charity Smith4 years ago in Horror
The Lady and the Night Barn Owl
The sky was pitch black. There was light mist in the air. There were only a few lampposts alongside the distant road that allowed for some visibility. It wasn’t long until she was being dragged by her hair, across the dirt into the barn. The barn was old, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a few trees, just a little distant from the road leading into the city ahead. The barn had not been maintained well. The red paint on the walls from the outside had already started to peel off. As the man dragged her weak body inside, the smell of death, and decay overpowered the remaining life in her. She was bruised up and wounded. The white walls were dirty, covered in residue of dirt, and stains of blood. The roof was hanging low, with mold in the corners of the rooftop. She saw a bracelet lying in the hay scattered across the ground. She understood that she was not the first one. The man stopped in his tracks and let go of her hair. Her weak body fell flat onto the ground. He walked over to the left. There were instruments for the barn lined up against the wall. A shovel, a whip, a bridle, a saddle, and other things, but she couldn’t tell what they were. She heard clattering. The man was frustrated because he couldn’t find what he was looking for. He walked out of the door to go look for it. The huge door of the barn was left open. She had no strength to get up, or to even lift a finger. She knew there was no chance of escaping. A few moments later, an owl flew into the barn. It was white, with a heart-shaped face, and brown specks on its white fur. It was a Barn owl. She was looking at it, very weakly, and it at her. She remembered learning about Barn owls in her Environmental Science class. They were predators. And they liked to hunt at night. And they don’t live more than 8 years. The man returned, wearing a hazmat suit, with a chainsaw in his hand. The lady knew this was it.
By Daniya Ali4 years ago in Horror
Hallucinations
I don't know where to begin, so I'll start with my first encounter. Before I get too far into it, these are things that I've seen over the course of my short life, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't criticize or tell me that what I saw is fake. I'm tired of hearing it. A warning to those of you reading this, there is one particularly gorey memory that I will be discussing, so if blood bothers you, now is a good time to turn back. Without further ado, let's begin.
By Mercury Z. Fugere4 years ago in Horror
The Serial Killer Club
By Monica Hess and Steve Miller He sits alone in his car. It’s dark out, but from his vantage point, he can watch the hookers on the street. They’re waiting for a john, smoking, laughing with each other. Watching them doesn’t do it for him. He’s not turned on by their short skirts and come-on looks. His old lady hasn’t been interested in sex since she went through the change and he knows he couldn’t perform even if she was. He takes his pleasure where he can, so he watches. He prefers watching the ones who have blonde hair, like his mother did, but he’ll wait until he sees one that gives him that extra special feeling. If it happens, he knows exactly what to do. First, he’ll take her picture from afar. With the telephoto app on his phone he’s able to get a really close up look. And after that, the dance begins.
By Monica Hess4 years ago in Horror
One Park, Two Perpetrators
To anybody besides scary men, Have you ever wondered what would happen if you lay in a park all night, alone? What the probability of getting killed or snatched is? Here’s a convoluted thought process: you’re the main character, and often main characters like to look out of windows melodramatically at the rain while a Billie Eilish song plays. They also like to go on walks at night. It gives you that solace of quietude and self. But funnily, you’ve never done that. Why? Because you’d likely get kidnapped or assaulted. So, the solution pondered hypothetically upon is this: what if you were the murderer, peeker, kidnapper? If you act the craziest, does that make you untouchable? And more interestingly: what happens when one perpetrator comes across another - if that ever does happen? Do they team up? Kill each other? Battle to see who encompasses more lunacy? Or tragically, but audience-vouched for, discuss what it was that’d brought them to this bare-of-beloved brink?
By VontVillain4 years ago in Horror
Hiding in the Dark
My mom was terrified of the dark. She always had a light on in any room she went into. Night lights were her lifeline. Every room in the house had at least one light, and she would always stay in the path of the brightest ray until someone could turn on the overhead. Hell, even the attic had a few lights in the sockets. I couldn't tell you the last time she was up there, though. She always made Dad go up, armed with a flashlight. He never seemed as scared as she did.
By Jordan Horter4 years ago in Horror
