psychological
Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.
Whispers in The Void
CHAPTER ONE: JUST A BOOK. “Adella, honey! Come down here please.” My mom screamed from downstairs. I did not want to leave the comfort of this attic; I was happy here. I spend most of my time reading books or searching for new books to read. The characters feel more like family to me than my parents do. Sad, I know, but when you grow up with a pile of books looking after you, it’s sort of hard to see things otherwise. “Adella! I am not going to ask again, come down here!” Mom screamed again. I closed my book, and headed downstairs to see what all the fuss was about. “Finally, for goodness sakes Adella, I have been calling your name for at least 15 minutes! What on God’s earth were you doing up there?” “I was reading mom, sorry.” She always does this, she screams my name and asks what I was doing, like the answer will ever change. “I wanted to ask you a very important question.” “What is it?” I replied confidently, but I was honestly very scared, she never asks me anything important. It’s always, “What are you doing” “What would you like for dinner” or “How was your day?” Never important things.
By Trinity Paige Michiels5 years ago in Horror
Etheria
So, there is a town hidden in a mountain range somewhere in the Midwest. The town is not like any regular town. When it was first established, its inhabitants were made up of officers, guards, nurses, and doctors of all different areas of expertise. The town itself looks like a Hollywood set. Fake grass, some fake trees, and bushes, even some of the houses have fake families sat around like props, and yes, there are even fake animals.
By Onyx Perth5 years ago in Horror
A Night to Remember. Content Warning.
I remember her, that day so clearly imprinted. I remember the way her shadow danced under the street lights. The way her silhouette crept up each building she passed. She was beautiful. Golden red hair and freckles that neatly collected upon her face. Emerald eyes that shine like diamond rings. Perfect teeth, I wonder what she ate that night.. Ahh.. if only she knew who I was. If only she had known how much I had admired her beauty.
By Ghoulishtale Studios5 years ago in Horror
The Timekeeper. Content Warning.
Ah, yes the softness of his skull was my favorite sound. Nothing like the feel of someone new at my fingertips. He looked so innocent just sitting there. A statue greatly posed. So limply placed upon his throne. It had to be done. For every time he gazed at me with those eyes. A shiver sent up my spine. As to what I held to my surprise. His lifeless eyes bluster within my soul. Judgmental from the great beyond. I am sane, it's dreadfully so. But in life those eyes were never kind. It haunts me, I must hide him. Blood from every orifice fills his face. I must hide him soon before neighbors catch foul play. I need his hideous eyes to go away. Ah, but his beauty was here to stay. Where oh where must you go. Stuffed in the grandfather clock. Tick tock, the time flies by. I had only seconds left. I pushed his heavy body in the ticking tower. He will not stay, so stubborn I must say. I proceeded to tape it shut. All in time for a knock at my chamber door. Hurriedly placing a cloth on my prize. With a deep breath, I opened my door.
By Ghoulishtale Studios5 years ago in Horror
The Art of Being Unsure
I think of it as a skill, being unsure, for how can one ever be sure that they are unsure? As my mind trails off on to another tangent, my index finger weaves around the lace doily on my grandmother's oak dining table, tracing its delicate loops and floral patterns and for a moment I wish I could be a design, perhaps a character in a painting. Oozing beauty but lifelessness.
By Chelsei St Paul5 years ago in Horror
Defiant Haruspicy
I am liable, to view those trees whipping like blades of grass in the maelstrom that has found itself atop my lonely hill. If only, if only this lavish home was everything I've ever wanted. Though I live in luxury, every day is lost to me, as I speak with nature in an attempt to find myself. Rather, not find myself, but find the half of myself I so desperately need. I despise them as much as I love them, for they are trapped within a reprehensible maze of which I've never suffered. They had run through it every day for the past weeks, time and time again, screaming for my help. I never overcame that hurdle, walking through the inside of the walls at any junction. I'd simply climb over, as if it were no big deal. So, when I ran in blindly at their especially terrifying scream, it was jarring - harrowing even to move through the gilded stone and shrubbery. I knew now why they got trapped so often, why their blood curdling, awe-stricken cries flew into the night and morning sky with little left of sanity. It was exhilarating, horrifyingly so. It was horrifying, beyond anything I'd ever seen. The way that the branches of nimble shrubs cast shadows of lanky and inky black across a tapestry of possible demises at the hands of forces unseen made my skin crawl. So, I pushed onward, attempting to finally confront this beast I'd so often avoided. They told me the pattern hundreds of times, and I'd basically memorized it, but on the one day I can't remember it they're screaming during my entire search. What lackadaisical providence would allow such a thing, why would this be possible in my own backyard? It made the safety of my lovely home feel torn, feel conflicted. However, in this mired trench that I called a mind, the thoughts started to lose their footing as I heard the screams getting louder. Eventually, I heard them bouncing off of the two very walls behind me. It was like a valley of wind and wolf howls; it was a sauna of sound. It baked my skin so that it sizzled, it raked my ears so that they would shiver. It was a cacophony of evil dichotomy, suffering it for much longer would cause me worse than deafness. Plugging my ears with my fingers ended up more like clawing the flesh from within them. Then, it all stopped. This horrid haruspicy having written for my feeble mind only one answer; death. I began to run, dodging left and right. Was this a right turn or a left? Should I even turn, or should I head straight? Unique, was this terror, as it was only aided by a sound I'd never heard before. The sound of unwavering footsteps. The sound of an end close behind. I began to think about my life, the way that my lover placed their hands upon my shoulders after a long day. The way that I would hold them until my tears dried and heart calmed. My desperation grew, my own cries of absolute unbridled ailment congealing along the horizon as if there truly were a light in the darkness of fear. I began to appreciate everything I could amid these supposed final moments, only to plant my feet on open ground. Is it over? Have I escaped? Is that death that was so certain before.. Is it far now? No, for I feel cold and wretched hands upon my waist and mouth. My scream is muffled as I kick and shove. I escaped, I trampled obstacle after obstacle, and this is how the universe repays me? I almost feel the sensation of being dragged back in, only to have my cheek met with a tender kiss of familiar lips. I turn, shock enveloping me as it did just moments ago, and my face is distorted from raw fear to relieved ire. I slap them, as that's the only instinct I have, and tell them just how scared I was. All they could do, even after turning me white as a sheet with their games, was laugh. I couldn't resist to join in.
By Casey Castro5 years ago in Horror
