Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
For Your Mind, Body, and Soul
Was she smart like Father? Was she sweet like Mother? Or was she funny like Grandmother? What dreams filled her head before the alien Foreigner War between humans and neuralites? Finding her starving, dehydrated, and unconscious, I never had the pleasure of exploring the wonders of her personality before ending her misery. Now I wear her tattered, grungy white dress and her heart-shaped locket around my neck. She was younger than me, but her size and gender suited my needs. The tarnished outside of the golden heart trinket displays an engraved name. Inside bares a portrait of the girl, aged approximately four or five, a few years junior from the age in which I found her. She looks happy in the photo as she’s embraced by a loved one, presumably her mother.
By NICHOLAS E BROWN5 years ago in Horror
Doomsday Diary
The house stood dark and cold, as it always was. There was a candle in the middle of the room, but a strange candle. It glowed with sliver fire, the undertone of power and love. There were no windows or doors open, as it always was. There wasn’t a sound in the house, as it always was. But the one thing out of place was there were people in it. They didn’t make a sound. They didn’t breathe. Their hearts didn’t beat. Because these people weren’t alive. Then again, they weren’t dead either. Not really. The door banged open with a sudden jolt, enough to scare away even the nonexistent rats and termites. Even such animals were wise enough to stay away from that house. Humans, however, are not so wise. Standing in the doorway were three people. A young girl with a long face and red hair, an even younger boy who’s face was so unimportant it would be a waste of time to try and describe, and a hook-nosed man with very white teeth. The hook-nosed man looked inside the house with an air of disappointment and irritation at his own disgust. The hook-nosed man had perfected the art of looking down his hook nose at small people, which he did now at the young things. He wanted to say something, but there was an oppression of aggravation that imposed upon him to stay silent. The children wanted him to venture first into the house, and he wished the same of the children. Yet after several moments of cold silence, the hook-nosed man placed his foot among the icy boards. They did not creak, nor make an effort to sound and fill the silence of the dim residence. He put another foot upon the primordial wood, and the children followed in nervous suit. As they neared the center of the house, where the little grey light the open doors had shed grew thin, the hook-nosed man stopped, unable to bear the frozen silence. He did the worst thing he possibly could have done in a house such as that. He opened his mouth. Before the first notes of sound had erupted from it, the doors shut as if they had never been opened. A dusty blue light lit a circle on the floor around the hook-nosed man. The children were nowhere to be seen. He whirled around and around, unable to find his way out of the circle, or escape the horror unfolding. He turned a last time, and came to face a young girl. He leapt backwards, unable to scream. It was then he saw it was the little girl with the long face, and near her was the unimportant boy. They looked strangely grey in the cyan light, their skin almost alabaster. He grew closer to them when they did not move, and reached out and touched them. Stone. Cold, hard stone. Statues of the children he had once knew, as if the house had known they were coming. Or…perhaps…the children themselves… the realization came too late, and the dark ended it.
By And I am Nightmare5 years ago in Horror
Friendly Outreach to Alternate Realities
“Can you understand me?” The man with the white hair said. The man with the white hair is called “Rabbi” in my head. “Yes, I seem to speak English.” My voice cracks and is too small. He nods in understanding but I’m not sure he could hear me. Other people are stopped in front of the fireplace. Stretching their shadows across the floor.
By Whitney Davis 5 years ago in Horror
3028
The year was now 3028, and the inevitable had finally occurred. It was the one thing every existing human being beforehand had feared and speculated would ultimately happen. Only now those feared speculations have become reality. Doomsday had finally interrupted the world.
By Heather Perry 5 years ago in Horror
The Crawlers
The screaming started. Jensen awoke with a start as it pierced through his subconscious, shattering the beautiful dream that had been his to indulge in as the moon shone brightly through his window. The screaming emanated from outside, and Jensen looked down. It was hard to see where it was coming from, shadows looming large in the central courtyard as an owl hooted nearby.
By William Bundy5 years ago in Horror
I Slept on Jennifer's Body
On top of my love for trash and my love for rom coms, I adore horror. A specific kind of horror but I adore it. Supernatural and paranormal stuff is my jam. This movie is right up my alley but I avoided it like the plague. Why? Well, the 2000s were a lot. There was a major boom in sex comedies, and the culture at the time was awash with teen boy fantasies. I can remember several shows that aired geared specifically toward the dude bro demographic, The Man Show, Manswers, Keys to the VIP, all schlocky bro fests designed to make guys think they needed to be awash in a sea of bimbos who were all too eager to be with them if only they'd use the right line on them or make enough money. In a word, it was a gross and confusing time to be a girl. You were told that you had to be hot to be anything but also if you were hot, you were a clueless slut who deserved what was coming to her. It sucked and it also lead to a lot of internalized misogyny of my own that I had to work hard to unlearn for my own health and sanity.
By Melodie Mulder5 years ago in Horror
Curtain Call: Part II
I did not wear the right shoes for this. Sloan ran, barely recognizing the pain of her poorly supported feet hitting the uneven cobblestone. She could not feel the faintly burning wind chill on the sides of her arms. She could not feel the pinching near her armpit as her leather bag dug into her skin through her shirt. She could not even feel the stabbing in her chest as cold, dry air was sucked into her lungs and forced out before it was ready.
By Marisa Ayers5 years ago in Horror
Leviathan
He set down the Medegan insulated pitcher in the passenger seat, the kind you get in the hospital that’s usually filled with crushed ice and a smidge of water because it was a few inches too big for the cup holder, the crazy accordion-style straw sticking out like an austere antenna. His ex-wife had stolen the pitcher for him from a hospital, despite saying it was weird he wanted it when he’d had his gallbladder removed. He sighed, taking in a long, calming pull of polluted and fart-tainted Toyota car seat air, and pushed the button to start the car. The sound of loose metal rattled as the car sprang to life and he was off.
By Richard Foltz5 years ago in Horror
Bloodlines - Part 2
This was far from the first time that I had gone back to the town that I was born in. I'd been there every year, with one set of grandparents or the other, sometimes both, for twenty-one years. This was, however, the first time that I had gone back by myself. We had been here for my birthday; a tradition that my grandmother on my father's side had thought up. They had never hidden from me that my parents had died before I was old enough to remember them. We came here on my birthday so that I could, in some strange way, spend time with them.
By Bastian Falkenrath5 years ago in Horror
The Curse of the Heart Shaped Locket
Once upon a time, there was a Woman named Valery, and a Man named Denzel. Valery was 26, and a worker at the National Clinc for retired Workers, while Denzel being 28 and worked at the cleaners. They both lived in an abandoned old town in Michigan, Wyoming with not many people around to talk to or see. There was never any sun in the area to have fun and the city would be so quiet that you could hear a fly buzzing in the street , and even sitting down inside your house.
By Jerome Lamar McQuarter Jr5 years ago in Horror
