Horror
Unknown Sound
The night was dark and still. The only sounds that could be heard were the distant chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. The old mansion, sitting atop a hill, was shrouded in darkness, except for the dim flickering of candles through its dusty windows. It was said that the mansion had been abandoned for years, but some locals claimed that they had seen strange lights and heard strange noises coming from the mansion late at night.
Mohammed SarfanPublished about a year ago in FictionThe two-way Mirror
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. I jumped back and let out a scream; I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. I was something I have never send before something out of my worst nightmares. It was a demon, a demon with pitch black eyes the thing was pale and slimy looking. It was smiling at me trying to show me all its teeth. Oh, the teeth, it looked razor sharp and point like needles. Why was this happening to me? I was so afraid I could not stop looking, I wanted to turn away and run but my feet where to heavy and stuck in place. As I kept staring at the demon, it kept showing me its smile and trying to find it was into my room. I took a deep breath in and a long hard swallow and tried to slowly move backwards while keeping my eyes on the mirror. I took one step back and the demon stop smiling and got very angry. It began to bang against the mirror, almost as if it was trying to break through from it side. It was taking in my smell from inside the mirror, it was so creep, it looked as if it could taste me through the glass and needed me.
Daisy RodriguezPublished about a year ago in FictionThe Accursed Mirror
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. The wrong face, the wrong hair, the wrong clothes. “Who is this?” my frightened mind screamed. As I reached out to touch the mirror, to examine it, to test its terrifying horror, it cracked. Before my trembling fingers could reach the strange face reflected, the mirror cracked and broke into an intricate puzzle of shards, struggling to hold the shape of a mirror.
Sean PatrickPublished about a year ago in FictionThe Healer and The Serpent
"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour." - 1 Peter 5:8
Brannan K.Published about a year ago in FictionThe Visitor
John R. Osborne was born in Philadelphia, PA to Lenny R. Osborne, an educator, and Kelli Osborne, a primary schoolteacher. His father passed away soon after he was born, leaving him and his mother.
Syed Arabi KhaliquePublished about a year ago in FictionBlood moon
It was the night I always dreamed of. Going to prom. I wanted to put on my blue dress with heels. I wanted to see who was going to be crowned King and Queen. I didn't make it that night. In fact, I didn't make it to step foot on the grounds of Shadow Valley High.
Cherise HopePublished about a year ago in FictionGreen eyes
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. At first, I thought it was just a trick of the light, my tired eyes and sleep-deprived paranoia setting in. I squinted and leaned in closer for a second - before stepping back suddenly. The figure staring back at me had became more distinct. It was a woman with tangled dark hair and piercing green eyes. Her faded white dress was flowing gently, even though I felt no breeze. She had a sly smile on her face.
Jon CoatesPublished about a year ago in FictionWhat Does Reading Do to the Brain? The Science of Reading and the Neuroscience Behind It
We pick up that enchanting Tolkien, turn up the first page, and slip off into a world that we had never heard of or seen before. The hobbits come to us and speak about their weird ways; the elves speak and invite us to see their magical land where death is impossible; Sauron pulls us into a dark world where we shiver about the future of Middle-Earth. Such is the beauty of reading that it doesn’t let us think if we are even reading or not.
Kavinjar kannathaasan
Kavinjar Kannathaasan Accolade. Kannadasan, otherwise called Kaviarasu Kannadasan, was an observed Tamil artist, lyricist, and essayist from Tamil Nadu, India. He was brought into the world on June 24, 1927, in a town called Sirukoodalpatti, close to Karaikudi in Tamil Nadu. Kannadasan is generally viewed as one of the best Tamil artists of the twentieth 100 years and is adored as "Kaviarasu," signifying "lord of writers."
vinoth kumarPublished about a year ago in Fiction(horror story hindi) story of experiences of friends in haunted house
horrer story hindi In the middle of the forest stood an old, abandoned house that had remained untouched for years. Local legend had it that it was haunted by the ghosts of its former residents, who were brutally murdered many years ago.
Dear StoryPublished about a year ago in FictionThe Gateway to Darkness
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. I had always thought that the antique mirror my grandmother had given me was just that: an old, dusty piece of furniture with no special qualities. But as I gazed into the glass, I could see something strange and unsettling staring back at me.
Resource ManPublished about a year ago in FictionThe Mirror’s Secret
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. What the hell? The reflection is a tiger. My heart raced as I stared at the mirror in disbelief. I stumbled back, tripping over my own feet and crashing onto the floor. My eyes never left the mirror, watching as the tiger's reflection moved, its eyes meeting mine.
Robert KegelPublished about a year ago in Fiction