Theresa M Hochstine
Bio
I am a stay at home mom who writes for the love of it. I am passionate about writing as it is a constructive way for me to process negative emotions and work through my PTSD. Many of the stories are pulled from nightmares I have had. Enjoy!
Stories (19/0)
St. Petersburg
"Hurry up loser! We're going to be late to the airport!" Shaun called out to me from the window of his 2017 silver Buick Encore. He had his pink board shorts on with a plain white v-neck t-shirt and his black Ray-Ban sunglasses. His dark brown curls, fluttered with the summer breeze.
By Theresa M Hochstine7 days ago in Horror
Joshua
I stood there, fetchingly draped against the door frame studying every inch of Joshua's anatomy. His dark, raven colored curls illuminated by the candlelight. He had a dark, well-groomed full beard and mustache that matched his head. I could see the outline of his refined angular jawline and his line, coral pink lips glistened from his repetitive licking. His neck delicate and soft, his shoulders were broad, and his arms strong and shielding. My gaze aimed lower and I began to explore the lower regions of his being with eyes. I played the song Training Wheels by Melanie Martinez. Josh sat up on the edge of the bed and watched in bewilderment as I got down on my hands and knees crawled seductively closer to him. I danced on him rolling my hips, and twerking my ass on his naked frame. Observing in arousement as his intromittent organ grew firmer by the second.
By Theresa M Hochstine13 days ago in Horror
Urges
Mmm..Mmmm. Her muffled screams did not deter me. I plunged my knife into her stomach once more. And then again and again. There was sweat dripping from her brow and blood pouring from her abdomen. Tears flooded her eyes and raced down her face. Her arms outstretched from one side of the metal bed frame to the other. Her wrists bound to it with stainless steel handcuffs. Her ankles at the opposite side of the bed, also bound by handcuffs to the bed frame. I raised my knife up high and drove it into her stomach once more. Then I used my hands to tear the incision open wider. I reached in and began fiddling with her insides. "Ugh!" she groaned as I grabbed a hold off one of her organs, her body levitated as I pulled with all my might, yanking out her liver. Blood began to rush out of her mouth. Her blonde hair was matted and stained by her own body fluids. Her petite, naked body was cloaked in innumerable bruises and gashes. Each mark in a different stage of healing as Miss Margaret Fisher, had been a guest for five days now. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't sick of looking at her. She was beautiful when I grabbed her. Long blonde curly hair, with emerald green eyes. A petite figure with hourglass hips and round perky breasts. She was everything I wanted now she's all busted and broken, and used up. She disgusts me. Still, I had to know what her insides felt like, I couldn't help myself. Wicked as it may be, I cannot control myself.
By Theresa M Hochstine18 days ago in Horror
Monster
Darkness swept across the sky like a heavy lead blanket. I hear the screeching of the owls fill night sky, a sound that sends a cold shiver down my spine and my body trembles, and I feel as if I'm being watched. In a panic I scan the area surrounding me yet, I see nothing and no one. Not a single soul lurking about. The campfire cackles and roars, and I get lost staring into the blaze. The warmth from the fire kisses my cheeks and with a slow blink, a single tear trickles down my face. I am alone. As far as I am aware. Crack! A sudden snapping of a twig catches my attention and i jerk my head around to peak behind me. Again, I see nothing. Yet, I feel eyes on me. I can hear the thunderous beating of my heart and sweat begins to drip from my neck and forehead. I'm on the alert and nervous. I begin fidgeting with my hands and I feel the paranoia begin to sink into my thoughts. "He's coming for me." I thought to myself. "He's watching me and he's going to come for me." I started to regret my choice to go on this camping trip.
By Theresa M Hochstine22 days ago in Horror
The People of Oakhaven Forest
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. A foul smell and thick black smoke erupted from the tattered brick chimney and an echoing of crows squawking filled the lavender sky as the sun slipped slowly beneath the Earth. We had been visiting this cabin annually for the past five years and never had it been occupied by another.
By Theresa M Hochstine2 years ago in Horror
The Ship Of Dreams
I was a boy when I first laid eyes on the Titanic. A glorious ship, the size of a floating building. I couldn’t help but agree with the whispers calling it the ship of dreams. The black and while hull and three huge funnels stretching towards the clouds. I was only nine when I boarded the ship on April 10th. My family and I got on in Southampton, England. We were off to New York City where my father had planned on opening his own bookshop. I was accompanied by father John Willits and my older brother Thomas. My mother Eliza and my sister Jane and Olivia were waiting for us in a townhouse my father had purchased a few months earlier. I could taste the salt of the sea water as we waved goodbye to my Uncle George from the deck of the ship. The sky was blue and clear, and all seemed right in the world. We were excited to start our new journey in a new land. We stayed on the deck until land was far from sight. I remember hearing the call of seagulls and watching the water be thrashed to and fro as the ship pressed on. A new life was waiting for me.
By Theresa M Hochstine2 years ago in Fiction
