It was midnight when Sarah's phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, but curiosity got the best of her. "Hello?" she whispered. Static crackled, then a voice, faint and trembling, said, "Help me... I'm lost." She asked who it was, but the voice faded. Thinking it was a prank, she hung up. Minutes later, the call came again—this time, louder, desperate. "Please, help! I can see your house. I’m right outside."
Panicked, Sarah looked out the window, seeing nothing but shadows. She locked her doors, heart pounding. Her phone rang again. This time, it was her own number on the screen. A voice identical to hers whispered, "You should have let me in."
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More stories from Gideon Kipruto and writers in Horror and other communities.
The Photograph
Liam found an old camera in the attic, dusty and forgotten. Curious, he snapped a few photos around the house. When he checked the images, he noticed a shadowy figure standing behind him in each shot—a figure he hadn't seen before. At first, he brushed it off, but in each new picture he took, the figure drew closer, its face slowly becoming visible, a twisted smile forming.
By Gideon Kiprutoabout a year ago in Horror
The Station Without Trains
Seen (1) At the far end of a desert highway stood a train station that no map acknowledged. There were no tracks leading to it, no schedules posted, and no trains that ever arrived. Still, every evening at sunset, the lights turned on. Maya found the station by accident while driving cross-country to escape a life that felt too heavy. Her radio had gone silent miles ago, and her phone showed no signal. When she saw the station glowing in the distance, she pulled over, relieved to find signs of life. The station was clean, almost untouched by time. Wooden benches lined the platform, and an old clock hung above the entrance, forever stuck at 6:40. The air smelled of dust and iron, like a place waiting to be used. “Hello?” Maya called. No answer. She sat on a bench, telling herself she would leave in five minutes. But as the sun disappeared, the lights grew warmer, softer. Calm settled over her in a way she hadn’t felt in years. A man in a conductor’s uniform stepped out from the shadows. His clothes looked old-fashioned, but neatly pressed. His face was kind, though tired. “You’re early,” he said. “Early for what?” Maya asked. “For the train,” he replied. Maya frowned. “There are no tracks.” The man smiled gently. “Not all journeys need them.” He explained that this station was a place between leaving and arriving—a pause for those who were lost, grieving, or running from something they couldn’t name. People didn’t come here on purpose. They arrived when they needed stillness. “Does the train ever come?” Maya asked. “Yes,” he said. “But only once for each person.” Maya felt a tightness in her chest. “Where does it go?” The conductor looked at the horizon. “To the life you stopped believing in.” Maya thought of the dreams she had abandoned, the version of herself she no longer recognized. Tears surprised her, sliding down her face without warning. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” she whispered. The conductor nodded. “That’s why the train hasn’t arrived.” They sat in silence as the stars appeared. For the first time in years, Maya didn’t feel the urge to run. She felt seen. Slowly, the station lights dimmed. The conductor stood. “When you leave,” he said, “you won’t remember this place. But you’ll remember how you felt.” A distant sound echoed—not a train horn, but something close to a heartbeat. Maya blinked. She was back in her car, parked on the side of the empty highway. The station was gone. The road stretched endlessly ahead. But her chest felt lighter. She turned the key and drove forward, not knowing exactly where she was going—but certain, for the first time, that she was finally on the right track.
By Do bol ho jaaye 4 days ago in Horror
Bruce Lee and The God of War: Kuan Ti
It starts with love.. The Power to the God Of War and Wealth Walk into a Chinese restaurant (even in Oklahoma, USA), a Chinese police station, a kung fu martial arts studio or even a Chinese temple and you often see a red faced warrior holding a heavy quan-do (spear like weapon).
By WILD WAYNE : The Dragon King5 days ago in Chapters
Comments (4)
Best, horror
The real horror
Iam scared being alone in that situation
Creepy this one is, but intriguing what would have happened if she opened the door would we meet ourselves coming and going. Good work.