psychological
Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.
Stalker in the Woods
Island Creep I moved to an island on Lake Michigan for the summer. It’s a touristy area and you can make decent money in the summer and my aunt owns a bar and grill and motel so I figured why not? I just went through a breakup after a six-year relationship and have been battling issues with depression and anxiety for over a year now so I figured this would be a nice change of scenery.
Kristin JeaneenPublished 6 years ago in HorrorWho Are You?
Have you ever decided to pack your bags and leave, leave with no plan or thought of where. This has been the most compressed year I have ever witnessed. Heartbreaks, fall out and much more. It’s like this whole time my life has been a secret television show, with hidden cameras. All I’m waiting for now is someone to jump out and surprise me.
Molly KanePublished 6 years ago in HorrorMr. and Mrs. Jones
“Oh! You’re home early, Nancy.” “I know, I had an appointment. I’m feeling a little under the weather.” “That’s too bad. What did the doctor say?”
Amber LarkinPublished 6 years ago in Horror“Unheimlich YoU"
You woke up suddenly, startled and confused, groggy, as your eyes adjust to the bright shafts of daylight stabbing at your eyes. Daylight? What were you doing sleeping? Weren’t you supposed to be at class? What time was, is it? You pause to take in your surroundings, unsure of where, when, or why, or even where on campus you are. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you realize you’re lying on green grass, freshly cut and finely manicured, and, off in the distance—the bell tower. As you ponder this, you stretch your neck, uncomfortable from sleeping on your own book bag.
Adam PridemorePublished 6 years ago in HorrorNormally Traumatized
Normally Traumatized Stop. Heart beats faster. Don’t be stupid. Wind picks up, blowing papers off the desk, swiftly landing on the floor.
Drew DoriusPublished 6 years ago in HorrorSave Me
The straps are too tight on my wrists. My ankles are trapped by wraps and wraps of metal. I squirm and try and get out with no success. That’s when he walks in. The man in the white coat. My eyes dart towards him and scan his body. He’s going to hurt me again, I just know it.
Julia BarkerPublished 6 years ago in HorrorLydia
The fiery orange dusk sky illuminated over the city signaling for adult and child to head home for the night. A man in his late thirties walked lonely across the dried autumn leaves blowing across the chalky sidewalk. Every click of his boot walking the same path every second of every day from home to work to home again. His mind absent but his body following the steps like a replaying record. He stopped in front of a blue door to the same old, white house. Like always he reached for the doorknob, his house always being unlocked. The cold painful air whipped from his home, the same air that his beloved had once breathed, where his children had played, before that tragic day. He took a few moments and closed the door once again trying to get the past from his mind, to get the courage to walk into his home. 'A nice day for a walk, to clear my mind' he had thought to himself even if it was only for a few seconds. He had walked to his favorite bakery to pick up something sweet to indulge himself in. Once again, walking the same old path back to his home until standing dead in his tracks, his heart had almost dropped from hearing a squealing sob. He walked towards the park where he heard the sobbing and saw a little girl in the sandbox, in a torn, bright blue dress holding an old, dirty bunny that looked like it was once white. He hesitated to approach her, but gathered up the courage, walked over and knelt down. Even feeling his presence she did not look up at him.
Pillow Thoughts
Sleep paralysis is a concept I have learned to fear due to the nature of the unwelcome guests that arrive with it. Tonight is no different.
Zene PattonPublished 6 years ago in HorrorThe Unknown
Everything is dark. I feel like my eyes are open but I can't see a thing. Everywhere around me it is pitch black. I try to move but I find myself to be unable to. I can't tell whether or not I am bound to something or confined in a small place. With every move that I try to make my skin burns. Not just on the surface but deep down as if whatever was causing the feeling was flowing through my bloodstream. I feel the sensation all over my body.
Eliza VargasPublished 6 years ago in HorrorPhobia Pt. 2
There’s a cacophony of lights swirling around my head. Vibrant pigments dancing in the night sky. Each one erratically jumping from one space to another like a psychotic gnat. Each one more iridescent than the next one against the gloom of the sky. They are accompanied by old-timey carnival music, each note carefully choreographed for the movement of the lights. A large concentration of lights is focused around a singular red and white tent all alone in the middle of this field. The grim backdrop of broad trees stalk behind the illuminated tent. It reminded me of a giant spotlight. Almost like Batman was going to come out of the tent at any moment. You can tell the high top is old given the dingy yellowing of the white sections. I felt a sense of joy and comfort reminding me of my childhood days. Not having a care in the world. Well… it didn’t last long.
Syzygy StoriesPublished 6 years ago in HorrorHigh School Hell
The school bell rang; it was time to go to class. I always thought it was weird that we all responded to a bell. The bell rings, we go to class. The bell rings again, we go to another class. It reminded me of herding cattle or sheep. My father says that everyone in high school are just sheep. I don’t want to go in there. The building is big, bulky and all gray. It looks just as depressing as my life. I watched everyone walk towards the building, looking for familiar faces. There were Anne Joynt, Jenna Whyte and, of course, Tommy. Anne Joynt was nice to me, but I know she is really judging me. Jenna Whyte always says what she is really thinking, which is usually just rude. Tommy never even thinks about me.
What's Behind One of Edgar Allan Poe's Scariest Stories
“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality,” wrote Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1949), undoubtedly one of the greatest names of American literature. Many of his works, which deal with themes such as love and hate, evil and guilt or insanity, and thus provide a deep inspection of the human nature, prove that.
Anezka SmidlovaPublished 6 years ago in Horror