psychological

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

Man
For Angel Greer Radmer never handled a body before. As a sniper he had killed his share of people, mostly men, but a few women and one child who had a bomb. Also, comically, a cow, a horse, and a camel, each on separate missions. He killed the cow to create a distraction, the horse was in the way of his target, and he shot the camel so it would fall on his target. That was his favorite kill – it was like a Looney Toons cartoon. But he never handled a body. He simply killed, confirmed the kill, and walked or drove away.
By Gene Lass5 years ago in Horror
The Transforming
The path that led me through the woods was one of the quieter walks of the week. There was nobody around me. It’s just how I preferred it. Since The Transforming three months ago, I had reason to seek as much solitude as possible. I needed time to process everything and get it all journaled. I had never witnessed anything so strange, even if it was my second time seeing it.
By Mariam Naeem5 years ago in Horror
Did They Ever Tell You How They Met?
SUNNY was always embarrassed when he’d tell people how they met. But it was an interesting story, so he’d loosen her up. There’d be laughing, teasing, usually pouring another drink if not a few, and always making sure to start the story off by saying “It could have happened to anyone”.
By Hamish McGlasson5 years ago in Horror
Shadows
It started out innocently enough. Your friends talked about it every so often as a joke, something that happens after you do too many hallucinogenic drugs: Fast-movers, flickering lights, glowing balls - shifting and twisting shadows out of the corners of your vision. Things that you thought were there, but actually weren't. It always sounded amusing, entertaining even - but then you started noticing it yourself, without any /extra/ help.
By Taylor Inman5 years ago in Horror
Since the Lights Went Out
Those who live their lives with blindness don’t know what light looks like; They have never seen a blue sky, a crimson rose, or the painted beauty of an evening sky. I had always struggled with this philosophy; The idea that the connection between our eyes absorbing rays of light and our minds creating images and landscapes was so far beyond our knowledge of the mind that practically nothing had ever been truly known about it baffled me. I had always lived with colour and light, perfect vision, and imagining the world in any other way seemed impossible. Life on earth exists because of our sun, the heat and light it provides fuels the plants and animals that call the earth home. The evolution of sight was a divine miracle, for the first time creatures could interpret distance, time, and colour without the need for sound and touch. Light brings with it life and beauty to our home of earth. When the lights went out, it all seemed to fade.
By Michael Chessell5 years ago in Horror
Come Play With Me
The dog is large, and the girl is small. The pair looks harmless from a distance and even more so up close. The girl’s tattered dress is patched in places and ill-fitting but clean. Like someone dressed in their finest after a long period of poverty and unrest for a ceremony of some sort, or a party. The dog could be any breed or all of them, its features scream lovable mutt and its fur shines in a way that said someone’s loving hands took the time to ensure it looked its best, down to the polka dot bowtie about its neck. They are a handsome pair. The kind that draws eyes and smiles and lowers defenses. You’d look at them and remember the things that were right in the world. The things that made you feel good, made you feel young.
By K.T. Seto5 years ago in Horror
The Stranger in the Woods
For a family of eight, moving from the suburbs of Chicago to Northern Minnesota was like finding a whole new world. The lush green forests and beautiful blue lakes were like paradise, and I spent every minute I could in the woods, always with my best friend Chena. She was a beautiful Malamute Husky and one quarter Timberwolf, who loved being out there as much as I did. We spent countless hours exploring the area around our new house near the Canadian border, with Chena always in the lead, investigating every tree, bush, and new smell she came across. We were on a portage trail a couple miles from the house the first time I became aware that we weren't alone in those woods.
By Lon Salerno5 years ago in Horror
The Candyman...But Way Worse
This true crime story is my own, and I hope you enjoy...or more, are as unsettled by it as I am. For the context of the story I am AFAB non-binary and use they/them pronouns, this takes place when I was in 7th grade (2010), before I was out.
By Theo Randall5 years ago in Horror
THE HOSPITAL
THE HOSPITAL EMERGENCY: AM I OLD? The question has to be asked, at what age are we considered old? It is a universal question that fields no concrete answers. Is it after sixty years of age? Seventy, eighty, ninety? Is it connected with being infirm? Perhaps age and infirmity are the answer. We all have a view of what is old. The person, grey hair, wrinkled skin, and bent over in a wheelchair? Perhaps the person using a walker stooped and sauntering? Or maybe the grey-haired woman who wears her wrinkles with pride and holds on to a food cart for support?
By Peter Bowden5 years ago in Horror
An Unusual Visit to a Cemetery
The last time I walked around without a mask was in March 2020 back in Pondicherry, the French capital of India. Every year Pondicherry attracts numerous tourists worldwide. Auroville in Pondicherry is one of the most famous tourist destinations in India. But of all the places I had seen in Pondicherry the most memorable one was to a cemetery.
By Ann Mary Alexander5 years ago in Horror
The Man and His Routine
Oh how The Man did enjoy life; each morning a clear summer sky he could see, a perfect setting for his simple breakfast meal of two crispy bacon strips, an egg and a slice of fried bread. To stab his fork in to a piece of bacon, then the white of his egg, and finally some of the fried bread – which had a hint of bacon itself, as it was fried in the bacon fat left behind in the pan – brought such a joy to the man, as he truly loved his breakfast, which he had each and every morning. And after each breakfast would come his daily routine, a simple one yet he cherished it so: first he would go to walk around the neighbourhood, often greeting many a familiar face; secondly, he would watch television, oh how he would laugh at comedy, edge on his seat at thriller, and so on; then lastly came simple, but vital, task—sleep.
By Charles Robertson5 years ago in Horror
The Man Caught in a Loop
Thud! That, along with some prior tugging of his feet, was the noise which woke a man, and in his mind-aching tiredness he heard a shortly following chinking sound. The man laid on his stomach; he had dazed vision gradually coming to clear sight, which allowed him to see what caused the second chink sound—a clear, glass bottle, with some papers rolled as one within the bottle. Letters and numbers alike could be spotted graffitied all over these papers, which hooked the man’s attention on to the bottle, he lifted himself to inspect further, noticing that what notes could be read formed a string of beauty, only to very fastly grow dull in his vision. While his interest in what was written on these papers lessened, he still decided to carry the bottle in non-dominant hand by the neck.
By Charles Robertson5 years ago in Horror