psychological
Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.
Lost
I stood at the edge of the pond. The tips of my toes touched the water. The sun still low on the horizon. I wanted desperately to drift away into her embrace. You would be welcome here. I would provide a home for you. Her still surface soothed me. I wondered if she had welcomed anyone else into her depths.
By A. G. White4 years ago in Horror
Victoria's Pass
Every year, the second weekend of October marks our adventurous trip up the Tennessee Smokies. Nestled just 30 feet from Lake Victoria Pass, the cabins in the mountains of West Virginia has been our go to family destination for the past ten years. My wife, Equinda, and the kids consider all the amenities and scenic sites to be just a small slice of heaven and look forward to the week-long excursion; however, I’ve grown complacent of the trip and feel a bit defeated that my vacation idea was shot down by the family committee. Nevertheless, the truck is packed, the gps is set, and I've taken my position behind the cockpit. The venture starts as planned for the most part, you know, stopping every five minutes to let the kids go to the restroom, or playing the usual game of follow the leader in every convenience store on I-75. What do they call it; “Deja vu” every action of the trip seems routine and a replica of years past. I glance up at the upcoming sign and it reads, Lake Victoria Pass 75 miles, exit 1 mile. This is the part of the journey where I clinch up and put on my reading glasses. The next 75 miles is what I’ve nicknamed the Devil’s Pass. The terrain switches from a four lane US highway, to a 2 lane road wrapped around a serpentine of mountainous wooded forest covered with snow and cliff hangers. The time is now 4pm and I know I’ve only got about an hour of daylight ahead of me.
By Lamont Renzo Bracy4 years ago in Horror
Jump Far
The Lake was always colder at that time of the year. The fall season brought all of the debris and mud up from the bottom, making it seem like there was no longer a Lake, only a muddy patch between two tree lines. The one side, the safer side, was retained by cliffs of varying size. The Lake could only be compared to ice fishing in Alaska, the top blanketed in matter, but without the fish. People, tourists mostly, would attempt to trudge across to the other side with the expectation of a shortcut to better hiking trails. This was never the case. Farther up the Lake was a singular bridge that crossed the length of the murky water, known really only by the people who lived in the area. The bridge was the least traveled path due to its position off of the designated trails, and the countless “Beware of Bears” signs adorning its vicinity.
By Cadence Kliesch4 years ago in Horror
Waiting for an idea to come
I want to write a story that is scary but does not cause me nightmares. I have always been fond of foggy waters. I am sitting in a reservoir with my feet in the sand. It is too cold to swim because winter is coming. How scary the thought—there are many things I wait for; winter is not one of them.
By Sone Kramer4 years ago in Horror
Down the Wrong Hole
Down the Wrong Hole by Dennis R. Humphreys Chance Williams wondered what he was doing here and how life guided him to this point. He was only trying to make some good money, even though it was a little on the shady side. A lot of people did that and never ended up in this position. He read somewhere one time to do what you love, and figure out a way to make money at it, and you would discover your 'bliss'. Yeah...it was a Joseph Campbell thing...some world famous mythologist and religious expert. Maybe that was the problem. Doing that was just a myth. Maybe that's what got him here. That's it...it was Joseph Campbell's fault. If he was alive today he'd make him eat his books. But that was easy to say being duct taped to a piece of plywood with your head taped still and two dental wedges in your mouth to hold it open. He was lying flat on the plywood lying on the floor in a six by eight foot room with about two dozen snakes were lose and slithering about randomly. It was a matter of time before one decided to slither into his mouth and down his throat, choking him to death. Just the thought of it was terrifying, but then that's why the two goons and Victor, that put him here, did what they did. They were instructed to do it, not to just to get rid of him but in the process, use him as the deterrent to any others thinking about doing the same thing.
By Dennis Humphreys4 years ago in Horror
The Wedding
It had rained all night. The reflections of passing cars’ headlights flickered on the wet asphalt like a hundred burning lightbulbs on the brink of burning out. The BMW turned onto the country road leading to Devin, a tranquil spa town nestled in Smolyan Province, situated in the valley of the Vacha River in the far south of Bulgaria. Only the monotonous hum of the engine persisted, disturbing the serenity of the night.
By Silviya Rankova4 years ago in Horror
The Lurker of the Lake
Artek was not fond of adventure. Or travel. Or meeting new people. His greatest goal amounted to a dream of spending his days puttering in his shop putting together the contraptions that filled his mind to the brim. He snorted in irritation, his black goatee flapping. Melot, his ne’er-do-well stallion--named for his favorite food--gave a similar snort from his ruffling through the foliage behind him. Here he was, a man that hated travel, over a week’s ride from his home, all because the Gods had spoken to the village Elder using the Winds for the first time in literal decades. She had been just as puzzled as he, her wizened face smooth in trepidation and fear as she told him his task.
By Meagan Wall4 years ago in Horror
