psychological
Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.
Crawl Space
Most people live a hard life. Or a good life depending on how you look at it. You have children without shoes, food, or water on one side of the globe. And on the other, you have people addicted to drugs and self misery; although living a “comfortable” life of easy essentials and commodities.
By Serena Hardy4 years ago in Horror
The Boys with the Boxes
Moving into the old cabin my grandfather owned was the worst choice I ever made. With his presence permanently in a hospital, he’d asked for me to maintain the residence. Swayed by the picturesque scenery and tranquil forest right outside, I quickly made arrangements and humored the 70-something-year-old man. Maybe if I’d just waited a few more months, I could’ve avoided the entire thing. What my grandfather hadn’t updated me on was the fact that, in the time that passed since I’d stayed over as a child, the closest town had developed a strange superstition. Sightings of ghosts, particularly seven young boys who’d gone missing within a single week during late July fifty years ago, were now commonplace. Their bodies had never been found despite countless search parties that scoured the nearby woods. Of course, they eventually had to be pronounced legally dead, but I thought those claims were quite disrespectful to the families.
By Casey Blett4 years ago in Horror
Not one of us has a face.
I saw a man on the subway yesterday. It was rather peculiar. He looked at me from under his hood. He looked at me without eyes and saw not my skin, nor height, nor appendages, nor any of my features. He only saw me. My soul. What if all of us were like that? Non judgmental. Not concerned about race, gender, sexuality or nationality. What if we only saw each other for who we really were? I must find a way to replicate this man. So I went back to my house and sold everything. My television, my chairs, my couch, my bed, my lights, everything. I then had my house renovated with that money, and I made a lab. My own little secret laboratory. But that was only half of the equation. I needed volunteers. So I went into the streets and found a man screaming at people in the street. He was saying that people with other skin, and race, and nationality are cretins. If people weren’t carbon copies of him then they didn’t matter. I waited, patiently of course, for him to leave. When he went to the restroom I asked him to be my test subject. He was, as I thought he would be, difficult. But difficult wouldn't do. I took a syringe out of my pocket and jabbed it into his neck, instantly incapacitating him. I struggled, but I was eventually able to stuff his body in the trunk of my automobile. Once at my laboratory I strapped him down and drugged him. He was sleeping like a baby, and I started. First I carefully removed the skin around his face. With my scalpel I drew a line around his eyes, nose, and mouth and pulled gently. Peeled like a fresh orange. I then got to work on his eyes, and his lips, and his nostrils. Before I knew it he was perfect. I sewed the skin back onto the face. I unstrapped him and propped him up in the bed. He awoke, and saw me. For me, not for bodily form. For my soul. Yes, he was a perfect example. This will do nicely for me.
By Damian A. Landon4 years ago in Horror
Boxed In
In a charming suburban neighborhood in New Orleans, the Davis family members were packing up their final boxes and getting ready for the big cross-country move. Sam, a marketing representative, was recently hired as a marketing executive for a company that was based out of Boston, Massachusetts. Although Sam was hired almost three months ago, he and his wife Kate waited until summer break so that they wouldn’t uproot Georgia and Jinny from their lives in the middle of the school year. Georgia, the eldest of the two sisters, was friendly, but incredibly shy. Sam and Kate were worried that if they moved the girls cross-country in the middle of the school year, Georgia would probably have a tough time readjusting to the sudden change. After all, freshman year is notoriously known for being the toughest year and Sam and Kate feared that an unwelcomed change on their growing teen’s life would lead to depression and anxiety. Jinny, on the other hand, was still in elementary school and would probably not remember a single detail from the whole ordeal, but out of respect for Georgia, the couple chose to make a long-distance marriage work until school was over. As they were packing, Sam and Kate were reminiscing on all of the memories they had made together in that house. The couple has lived in New Orleans their entire lives, so packing their family’s four door sedan to its gills, locking their doors, and putting up the ‘sold’ sign on the hanging billboard at the edge of their property was a bittersweet moment for each of them respectively.
By Jennifer Vasallo 4 years ago in Horror
The Room-Walker
This story I will tell you can believe me or call me some nut-job that is your choice, but what I have been experiencing the past twelve years all comes from personal experience. It all begins back in 2009, I was 16, and my brother was 20, 21, and he and his boyfriend were living with my mother and me at the time. Our family supposidly has lots of history regarding the paranormal, hearing voices that we hear but others don't, seeing shadows around the corner only for them to disappear or catching something from the corner of our eyes, and then it vanishes, but this night was different.
By Arthur Caliga 4 years ago in Horror
Horror Encore
Ling carefully weaved his way around traffic on his bicycle, dodging cars, pedestrians and buses on the busy road in Hong Kong. Favouring his right leg as he got off his bike, he limped painfully up the stairs to his apartment on the third level. Once again, he had hurt himself; something that was almost becoming a daily occurrence. Unlocking the door, he put aside the groceries that he had purchased and took out some cotton swabs along with a package of bandages from his drawer. Dipping the swabs into rubbing alcohol, he winced as he cleaned the wound and gingerly dabbed it with a tissue before wrapping it up with a fabric bandage. Ever since Ling was a kid, he had been known as the injury-prone kid or the kid that always hurt himself. Over the course of a single lifetime, he had slipped off a slide on a playground, fallen multiple times from a bike, stapled his thumb, fainted at a bus stop, and tumbled down the stairs on more than one occasion. No matter how hard he tried to be careful, it seemed accidents and Ling could not leave each other alone, to the point where having an accident was becoming part of who Ling was. Finished bandaging up his leg, he began making dinner, being careful with the gas-powered stove. He had burned himself many-a-time when forgetting to use a towel to hold the hot pan handles. He also had to be extra diligent when chopping the vegetables so as not to cut his fingers with the razor-sharp knife again. All his life, Ling had been punished by his parents for accidents, whether that was breaking a plate, burning the vacuum cleaner or throwing up on the carpet. His proneness to accidents meant that he was constantly in trouble, and eventually he lost what confidence he had in his own abilities. No matter how hard he tried, he could never meet his parent’s expectations until finally, he gave up trying altogether. The disappointment of failing corroded his work ethic like rust weakening a steel sword, making it useless and in a way, purposeless. Moving away from his parent’s home did little to help boost his confidence, but at least he was free from the constant criticism and disappointed looks on their faces every time an accident occurred.
By Jesse Leung5 years ago in Horror
Death By Chocolate
‘Round and ‘round the mixer beaters twirled, creating a scrumptious, chocolatey batter that frothed as it became nice and gooey, enticing me to dip my finger in for a taste. It was my husband Stephano’s birthday, and I was making all his favorites to celebrate, including my famous Death by Chocolate cake. It had won blue ribbon prizes at every bake off I’d entered, and I only made it for competitions and special occasions.
By Diana Hyjek5 years ago in Horror
