Mystery
The Halloween Table
What do you suppose a Halloween table to look like? To me a Halloween table is one that kind of gives off a Gothic motif that is a dark Mahogany table maybe with a few tall candlesticks in the middle. Now picture cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and chandelier in the center of the room. There is a sense that one is not alone at this table for its set for two for pewter dishes. Who is expecting whom? Is it for a special trick or treater? At this time of year, one may not know for sure. Happy dining!?
By Mark Grahamabout a year ago in Fiction
Parental Fear
The Knock She sat restlessly on the couch staring blankly at the TV. Her daughter, at the mall with her friends, was 10 minutes late, and her son, at his friend’s house, was going on 5 minutes late already. She shifted between angry and scared with each second of the clock.
By Timothy A Rowlandabout a year ago in Fiction
The Whispering Room
It was supposed to be just another urban exploration trip a weekend escape from the noise of the city. For years, people in the nearby town of Millcreek had whispered about the Holloway Farmhouse, a place abandoned since the 1970s. Locals claimed that at night, if you got close enough, you could hear your own name being called from inside.
By kashif khanabout a year ago in Fiction
A Night in the Devil’s Arms
A Night in the Devil’s Arms The manor’s silence pressed around Eleanor like a living thing, heavy and expectant. Each footfall on the polished stone seemed amplified, as though the walls themselves were listening, judging, savoring. The man who had met her at the door, whose presence radiated a wickedness so precise it might have been carved from the night itself, he watched her with quiet amusement.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Fiction
Chilling Cacophony
Inky night blankets the motionless room. Flimsy curtains hang limply, concealing gaping windows, futilely gasping for a single breath of fresh air. The aging ceiling fan, monotonously rotates, moaning softly over it’s losing battle.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶about a year ago in Fiction
RED LIGHTNING. Content Warning.
In my kitchen, I’m preparing to cook my favorite comfort food: spaghetti with garlic knots and a fresh salad with Thousand Island dressing. Lately, I’ve been indulging in comfort foods—sometimes it’s a bowl of Corn Pops topped with orange sherbet ice cream or Girl Scout Thin Mint Pop-Tarts with a cold glass of milk. The good news is the crying has finally passed. I was listening to Napster, playing my Morgan Wallen playlist, because seeing the world through "Whiskey Glasses" is exactly what I am doing right now. There’s nothing quite like country music for making the broken-hearted feel worse. Singing “Whiskey Glasses” at the top of my lungs, off-key, while I set up my solo dinner, I can feel the hollow ache of solitude. It’s hard being alone after so many years in a relationship—even a toxic one. I hear the next song, and Post Malone is serenading me, telling me this one’s for the losers. I will drink to that.
By T.D.Carterabout a year ago in Fiction
The Unexpected Arrival
Man, the silence hit Ashley first. She'd totally expected noise—Mom’s old records playing, maybe Dad clanging around in the kitchen, or heck, even a big "Surprise!" But nope. As soon as she got the door open with her key, the house just ate all the sound from the hallway. Just this deep, empty quiet.
By Alexandria Hypatiaabout a year ago in Fiction
Knock Knock
Jessica said, "Knock, knock," and I, of course, said - Who's there to which she replied, "Mother", and I replied - Mother, who, to which she said, "Mother me with kindness!" Okay, it is goofy, I know, but I laughed for about an hour altogether!
By Denise E Lindquistabout a year ago in Fiction
