supernatural
The hidden world of all things supernatural; a look inside witchcraft, spells, vexes, black magic and other spine-tingling supernatural phenomena.
An Inheritance
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. In the tavern, every family living in and around the small village was represented. Farmers, laborers, landowners, shopkeepers, and tradesfolk, all packed shoulder to shoulder in the main room. They each held the tankard that the landlord had prepared for them, their serious faces lit by its flickering light. Generations spanning hundreds of years had prepared them for this.
By Pete Gustavson4 years ago in Horror
A Witch's Love
"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window." “Seriously?! Not another story about a cabin in the woods,” John rolled his eyes and crossed his arms with a deep sigh as he leaned back in his chair.
By J. S. Lemire4 years ago in Horror
Haunted Hike
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Interesting. I walked this trail several nights before, but never noticed a candle. Actually, I never noticed the cabin. Twilight is slipping into night. I want a quick peak before I head back to camp. Branches crackle under my feet as I attempt to approach quietly. I don’t want to startle whoever is here.
By Valerie Cheathon4 years ago in Horror
The Old Cabin in the Woods
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The simple light cast an eerie glow to the clearing around it, so much that one could imagine that the flickering shadows were creatures lurking, seeking solace. The darkness was thick in this part of the woods, the weeds overgrown in the treeline surrounding the cabin. Oddly enough, the weeds hadn’t overtaken the cabin. The air was hot and thick, even in the middle of the night. The single flickering light looked out of place, as did the young woman sitting next to it.
By Heather Nicole Miller4 years ago in Horror
Thru-Hike
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Beth was the first to see it. They were walking up the path, overstuffed packs on their backs, hair still wet from the creek, when suddenly she froze in her tracks.
By Kate Streip4 years ago in Horror
A Secret Place
The clocks in the old Sutton Manor had a certain musicality. One deep toned in its clanging on the hour, like a rotund, bass voiced man, the smaller, gilt, glass enclosed one,a tinnier sound, like tiny needles poked in your ear lobes although not entirely that unpleasant.
By Nancy German4 years ago in Horror
Two Faces
Two Faces The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window …. seemingly put by an unseen hand, the velvety shadow cut by the humming dream of the flame…casting waves in the distant dark like a demon …. strangely it whispered…lapping against the window pane as the hoard stood transfixed in its eternal dance. The bleeding shape behind it shuddered, the glass shrieked torn upward….and it came. Dropped, the dead rotted eyes rolled up to the falling storm. Shapes without form, a mass of breathing lines, all of them seemed to move, all once belonged together. The hoard shrieked as shadows, frothing and gnawing, gnashing in violence, feeding, and lapping the figure beneath them. Torn from the bone, swallowed and shattered the figure was mangled and mauled into dust as they burrowed inside it screaming for more, begging the flame to find them and give them the same, again, again, and again…. but quiet. They froze. All left before them an entirely rounded piece…almost alone…their dim retreating eyes probed the thing untouched, All yet the same save the two eyes that stared back at them…hurling the light from the flame back in defiance….lolling in death….white as the creaking moon above them….it whispered….”Feed on me.” The hoard of whipping whispered ears crept up above, the bloodied teeth and blank and panting rotted faces grunted deep into the air. A fear, a deep and forgotten fear crept through their ranks. The shape, the idol, the spirit-head lay washed up on the sea of mud and bone. The covered cloak it had worn was torn a dozen times, from where it spoke the bare and bitter ivory broke into a smile. The silent laughter rose from where the shedding eyes crept deeper in its tomb. The tomb of its own dreams. And then the whisper came…. deep inside the mass, the squealing, shrieking mass of blood and bone and frenzied eyes that begged to be rewarded. Feed on me. A rush of jostling bodies in sweat and screaming laughter rushed to eat the gutted face. They stripped the eyes that hid inside the burrowing holes and unmasked the smile braying behind the tomb. All they ate. For they would not be fed on flesh and blood alone, but took all that once had been a flame inside that figures glass….and tore apart the bone to swallow all. The whisper spread and rippled through the shrieks and squeals, again the same, again the ringing laughter in the deep…to feed and eat…. feed on me and nothing more. As the whisper grew each gnawing face began to say it to itself. Chanting the dying words, they began to speak, speak as they fed and snapped the chalked-up pieces of the broken bodies. The order wouldn’t fade, nor could it. But slowly, as every shrieking face screamed out this commandment their dying muddied eyes recoiled….they screeched in flaming fear as the dim and dying faces all around them became the figures face upon the floor….each and every monsters eyes became the same, the face that lay upon the floor….the piggish blood and feeding screams became the whispered laughter of the skull. They tore each other’s faces off, to stop the eyes that flickered with the ending flame that still held its dance above. They dug and latched and gnawed their faces to blind themselves from what they saw. But they could not stop the echoing instruction….it sucked itself inside their heads.
By Sebastian Vogt4 years ago in Horror
Foggy Road
The road surrounding the water was shrouded in fog, thick and soupy. The man could not see past the reach of his headlight beams, and he leaned forward in his seat, his hands at eleven and two, squinting into the night. He was close to his destination, but the dark and the fog rendered the familiar road unrecognizable, and he couldn’t tell how much further he had to go.
By Erica Psaltis4 years ago in Horror
