Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
Who’s There
“You dick!”I exclaimed as I shoved my boss between his desk and the wall. He had threatened to throw me onto the streets. He had threatened to make sure I never worked again in this town. All for reporting my pen stolen. Not just any pen, no no this pen was signed by famous entrepreneur Lance Sark. Not just some pen that could be replaced from a store. It was worth Millions!He needed to be taught a lesson. Deny me my rightful retribution? We’ll see! I grab his ugly pen and jam it repeatedly into his chest. “Is this the right pen?! Is this the right pen?!” I repeat his own words back to him in a mocking tone. Suddenly I hear a noise in the night. “Wooo!”an owl says. I look to the window and there sits an owl sitting there looking at me. “WHO!” it exclaims again. I look down at my boss and look back up to see the owl pointing his wing behind me. “WHOOOOOO!” The owl suddenly turns its head upside down ,dragging out the sound so that it’s point is made. Out of nowhere , I feel a presence behind me. There’s someone in the closet. I walk over to open the door when suddenly the owl starts freaking out. “WHO WHO WHO WHO!” It repeats rapidly as I turn the doorknob. I discovered some unholy sight that still keeps me up at night. It was the body of my boss hanging in the closet with pieces of his body missing. I throw up and fall to the floor. How was he in the closet when I just killed him? And if this is actually my boss, who did I kill? The owl suddenly stops making noise and points at me. “What are you looking at!” I scream at the owl. Suddenly the owl speaks “he’s not therre.” I quickly notice that my fake boss’s body is no longer on the floor. I freak out and go to run towards the door when it slams shut in my face. Suddenly the owl begins to screech as high as it can. Almost as if it’s a homing beacon. I back up slowly and I start to hear footsteps. I rush to the closet and close the door. It smells like crap here. It isn’t a very big closet so I’m very close to my real boss’s body. All of a sudden, the door to the room bursts open and I hear a sound outside. It can only be described as an eery groaning with the gracefulness of the wind whipping. I try to hold my breath as i hear someone walking around right outside the closet. I hear a dripping and before you know it, the figure is in front of the closet. I think if I can stay quiet, maybe they’ll leave me alone but of course a piece of my boss’s skin falls off and down my back onto the floor. I want to scream , it was disgusting. I think to myself they couldn’t have heard it. It turns out I was right. I suddenly hear the owl again. “WHO WHO WHO!” It screams as I pray for the owl to shut up. “WHO WHO WHO!” It continues as I hear the sound of dripping getting closer and closer. “WHO WHO WHO!” The owl screams as the figure stands directly at the closet door. Finally the owl exclaims “GET OUT NOW!” I suddenly shock awake and push the door open knocking the figure off balance. I run all the way to the nearby gas station and I tell the people what happened. They sit with me until the police come and they soon shut down my job for reasons unspecified.
Dave CasadatPublished 3 years ago in HorrorUrsula Dabrowsky Rising
Independent film festivals open doors for filmmakers hoping to get into the business of making movies, and we can see that through the journey of Australian horror filmmaker Ursula Dabrowsky.
W.S. KlassPublished 3 years ago in HorrorSurprisingly Feminist Horror Films
There's nothing on the Big Screen that I love more than a good horror film unless, it's a horror film where the girl doesn't die a victim.
Dulcy WarfieldPublished 3 years ago in HorrorVoid
It is hard for the mind to grasp the concept of nothingness. A person thinks they understand, but soon realize that by thinking, there is still something. Pure nothingness is devoid of any singular thing, thought, sound or sensation. That was my first memory. “I am nothing.” That was when the paradox began. First, there were words. I didn’t even know what words were until they bombarded my brain discordantly. I had a brain. I had… a name. “I am Abignal.” I stated with finality. “What does that mean? What am I? Why do I exist? Father… Is that you?”
The Demon Wolf: Chapter 1 - Julius of Romania
The most profound solace lies in understanding, this ancient, unseen stream, a shudder before the beautiful. In the cold hours of the midnight moon, the king of Apocrypha arose from his throne. His appearance was unlike anything the world has ever seen; his face was dark, pale, and far too demented to be called pure. During this time, he began to remember how it all started and how he became what he is now: a king of darkness, a knight of the dark embrace, and a demon wolf. He walks from his mighty throne and opens the doors leading to the rampart where he can see everything from his kingdom to the world's outer reaches.
Micah/Dark Fantasy WriterPublished 3 years ago in HorrorMother, Mother
There's something worse about a child's coffin. Part of it's the size, of course – barely suitcases, most of them. just wide enough for a hysterical mother to reach her arms around. Solid enough that it's not liable to move (or, heaven forbid, tip over) while she curses God and kicks over the flower arrangements.
Laura PresleyPublished 3 years ago in HorrorStranded Deep
Day 1 Waves. Sound is the first sense to come back to me, lying on my back in some ungodly shape. As my eyes adjust to the blinding light I begin to feel the sensation of warmth across my skin, the suns warmth in particular. The sun has a very specific warmth, and this time I was tricked into believing I was somewhere pleasant for a moment. It was just then that it dawned on me, wasn’t I just on a fucking plane to Costa Rica? Where the fuck am I now? Why the fuck am I in a yellow raft in the middle of the fucking ocean? This is a dream right, surely this is a dream.
Robert WebbPublished 3 years ago in HorrorOpen Mind: Chapter Three
You already know everything there is to know about the accident. Everything that I remember of it, in any case. There was that rainy day in the library when it was just the two of us, silent other than the persistent buzzing of the overhead lights and the pitter-patter of raindrops on the foggy windows. I started to cry -- I don’t remember what triggered it, but you asked what was wrong. I told you all about the accident, every bit of it that I could still remember at that point, and I know I was not as nice about it as I should have been. You just wanted to know how to help, and I wanted so desperately to just push you away. But deep down, I wanted you to know. There was a bitter-sweet catharsis in sharing that with you -- but that time has passed. My old man is as dead now as he was then, and I would rather leave my memories of him untainted by sharing again now what I remember of his death.
My Haunted House
On September 8 2008, my old house burned down. It was a very old house, with the original one room cabin section dating over 125 years old. A couple of additions had been added on over the years but none of the house was newer than 50 years old. The house was part of a historical site in our area, part of the headquarters for one of the first CCC camps but well before that one of the resting grounds for Indian tribes crossing the area. The people I bought the house from had run a speed shop in the huge stand alone four car garage and my sons had spent hours of their childhoods digging rusty pieces of metal and car parts out of the dirt around the garage and exploring the "ditch" behind the house, where a small feeder stream runs into the lake two houses down from my house. The area is rich in history and artifacts and my sons dug up old railroad and barn spikes from the ditch as well as arrowheads and other artifacts. Some they kept as mementos, some we donated to our local small historical museum.
Jennifer SharpPublished 3 years ago in HorrorThe First Time I Saw a Ghost
Twenty-seven acres of mountain land surrounded the pre-Civil War farmhouse that sat majestically on a hill. Twelve large rooms, three chimneys, two outbuildings, an old barn, and a gravestone belonging to a little girl who had been killed by a carriage in front of the house – this was my new home.
The Writer ChickPublished 3 years ago in Horror08 Horror Movies Based On True Stories.
This is a list of 11 horrifying and scary movies, based on real stories. The Amityville Horror (2005) Trailer >> https://youtu.be/4xHJOG03eDE
My Top Three Ghost Hunting Bucket List Locations
Here we are again! For this final installation of my ghost hunting bucket list, I chose three of the locations that may not have the most terrifying and undeniable haunts, but instead have the most intriguing and challenging. I’m inclined to believe that not everywhere needs a tragic backstory to be haunted by its past, even though tragedy has a way of seeping into the walls more than positivity. These locations open my eyes to the many facets of haunted locations, reminding me that not everything is quite as it seems
Alesia BrooksPublished 3 years ago in Horror