psychological
Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.
When Madness Comes
The bedroom door crashing in, ricocheting off the doorstop with a loud thud, caused Jason to awaken in a start. He had sat upright and thrashed from side to side preparing to fend off the expected attack. When nothing or no one immediately pounced, he swung his legs off to the right side of the bed, grabbed his jeans, and had them on in one swift movement. Shirtless, he ran headlong down the stairs, bouncing off the wall at one point and sending a photo clattering against the rail behind.
By Eric McDougall5 years ago in Horror
Geoffrey Dahmer’s Almost Close Encounter
Geoffrey Dahmer did not notice the alien artifact in his kitchen at 6AM that Tuesday morning because he was laying in bed thinking about his life. Geoffrey Dahmer’s life had been mostly fine for the first 12 years, then suddenly it was not. No one cared that he spelled his name differently than the most famous cannibal necrophiliac serial killer in the world. No one cared and consequently Geoffrey was lonely and lived alone. He did almost everything alone.
By J. Otis Haas5 years ago in Horror
There's always an explanation
The ticks of the clock seemed to reverberate within Isaac's head as he paced back and forth across the room. He would periodically stop to glance at the time and, upon realizing only a handful of seconds had passed, would begin to pace again. This routine was nothing new to him. Every Wednesday at 5:55 sharp, he would ring the buzzer outside the home office to be let in. His standing appointment was at 6:30, but he couldn't bear being anything but overly punctual. For him, this was just the norm; he had been this way for as long as he could remember. For the most part, those who knew him just accepted that fact, but Dr. Sai knew that there was some other reason behind it. She assured him that first session that there is always an explanation. Of course, he didn't believe her, but she asked him if he would bear with her for a bit. It took her some time, but eventually, she dug it out of Isaac. One of the last things his father had told him was, "If you're on time, you're late." the morning of the accident. Unconsciously, that little saying stuck with him and drove much of his actions. Before that session, Isaac had concluded that Dr. Sai was unable to help. In his mind, she was just another in a long line of doctors and professionals who couldn't treat him. After he had finished wiping his tears that day, however, he felt something change within him. He understood that Dr. Sai was here to help him. From then on, his pacing went from being motivated by distrust and uncertainty to motivated by impatience and jealousy. Dr. Sai was there to help him, so why did she feel the need to spend so much time with other patients?
By Antonio Tovar5 years ago in Horror
The Little Black Book
I had a dream last night that all of my teeth were gone, but someone was installing them back into my gums. So I could chew. So I could bite. It was fairly painful from what I remember in the dream. Tears ran down my soft pillow cheeks as this small man on a small ladder faced my mouth with all of my missing pieces, making me whole once again.
By Madelynne Buckelew5 years ago in Horror
The 'Soulskine' Journal
A black 'Moleskine' book. That’s all it was. Every household has one and is usually filled with doodles or sketches, poems or paragraphs, to-do lists or minutes of meetings. When James Ackerman found this one on a pile of freshly fallen leaves it didn't look any different to the one he keeps tucked away neatly in his nightstand, forgotten along with his stash of self-help books, half read and gathering dust. What a coincidence he told himself that his eyes should fall on this little treasure as he wandered under the thick veil of horse chestnut trees that bordered the local park. It was that time of year as Autumn was in full swing, the once lush green leaves started to show weary signs of speckled brown. Conkers littered the ground and the sight of them pulled James into a not too distant past when he would scour this very same park for the fattest ammunition to destroy the competition in the traditional conker at school. His eyes were drawn to the ground through this instinct ingrained in him from childhood. He picked up the small book, dusted it and gave it a quick once over. The leather was pristine, the elastic that kept it closed was still springy, but most surprisingly the pages were still dry despite laying on the slightly sodden earth so typical of the late British Autumn. The book must not have been there long, maybe the owner wasn’t far gone? James scoured the pathways that snaked through the trees. No movement. He decided to keep walking, there was a bench up ahead through the clearing just off the large cast iron gates of the south entrance to the park, his favourite spot. The perfect place to dissect this rare find. He plodded on fixated on the ground beneath his feet.
By Cameron waddelow5 years ago in Horror
The Sabbath
We walk in straight lines, unbroken and focused, into the forest, into my eternal fate. The trees dance in the moonlight taunting me, rejoicing in my misery. The wind nips at my exposed feet and slips between the opening of my cloak leaving frozen kisses on my arms and down my legs. As we walk deeper into the forest, my body steadily grows weak and numb. My feet are covered in cuts from the exposed branches and fallen twigs. The dirt clings to my skin, refusing to let me go further. Our leader, my mother, walks in front of me oblivious to my dread and I so desperately wish that she would turn around and tell me I don’t have to go through with this, but I know that is not who she is. It is not who we are.
By Jalyn Nwogu5 years ago in Horror
Softwood Hollow
The clash came on sudden, like a summer storm. It was short and fierce - horses neighing wildly, sabers clanging, shot and smoke. When it was over, mostly blue-clad dead littered the field. The few fallen gray speckled amongst them like grains of salt dissolving in water. The remnants of the small Union detachment fled; the two companies of partisan rangers did not pursue, turning their attention to the stores in the liberated rail depot and the personal treasures of the fallen. A detail set about bayoneting the grievously wounded, this on the orders of the commanding officer, Captain Reginald Carney.
By Mason Stone5 years ago in Horror
A Shortcut to Money, Beauty and Fame
Desperation can make us do unimaginable things. This is what brought Rosie here, laid off, single, pushing forty, stepping off an hour-long bus ride into an affluent neighborhood. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t look like it would carry sinister secrets in alleyways, one with only posh cafes and fast-walking designer heels gracing the sidewalks. Her discounted coat from two seasons ago is screaming she’s an imposter. She knows she doesn't belong here—not yet, at least.
By Katey Taylor5 years ago in Horror
