Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
A Hunger For The Past
Everyone knew that after Little Boy was dropped in Hiroshima, the world would never be the same again. War had changed. Gone were the infantry and cavalry of old. Governments now scrambled to arm themselves with these weapons of mass-destruction. Everyone wanted the biggest stick in the fight, and yet none wanted to truly use it. An ever-looming threat of extinction hid behind the bravado of men in suits; snake oil salesmen with crocodile boots and smiles to match. Countries held their breath as fingers poised on doomsday devices, all locked in a sinister stalemate that would only end in misery. It was almost a bitter relief when the first button was finally pushed.
By Juliette Bissell5 years ago in Horror
Mother
The desert air scorched down her throat as she gazed upon the peace before her. In the distance, the hills of sand shimmered with heatwaves. The towering sandstone structures were a wall, separating her small strip of paradise from the broken civilization just beyond the ridge.
By Sam Blaine5 years ago in Horror
The Locket
He looks at the locket. Gold and Beautiful. He turns it to see the back and double checks the coordinates. 27.8006 N, 97.3964 W. Home. He hadnt seen it in years. Since the incident he hasnt been able to cross The Rockies or what was left of them, for 6 years now. Then he heard what happened in Texas. The Largest Hurricane in History. Hurricane Rosa. Hit the coastal bend head on. Wiping cities off the map. Still he finally made it. He gathered the appropriate gear, tools and weapons. The weapons are mostly for bears and lions. Then there's the hordes. They look like people but that part of them died a long time ago. They hunt and eat us like game. Avoiding them is easy if you know how but, one must be prepared. He crossed The Rockies and only lost one toe to frostbite. He trecked the through the pan handle and encountered a horde. They chased him through the pan handle and into the North of Texas. He was saved by people. The first people he'd seen in 5 or 6 years. They wore grey and brown outfits with respirators and goggles. The men took him to a building with lights! Electricity! There he told their leader he was heading to the coast. The man's eyes grew sad and offered a horse, jerkey, ammunition and herbs. He knew what lied ahead but, the locket against his chest drove him on. The gold locket. "All I have left of you." "You're eyes when you saw it." 4 weeks he traveled through the most civilization he'd seen in 6 years. Children. He hadn't seen children in years either. Then he hit Galveston. What was left of it. Nothing more than checkpoint and place for crooked and desperate people to flourish. He crossed the check point "illegally" they quite chasing him after 2 days. They were louder than the hordes. Slower than the lions. Dumber than animals. They were easy to evade. Still they did manage to hurt him. His side was bleeding from the bullet that grazed him. Alcohol and herbs keep infection at bay. Now he hides in the wreckage of what San Antonio turning the locket in his hand. He hears animals. He aims. He shoots. He eats well and safe. 2 days and he finally sees it. In the distance the remains of a bridge that stretched in many direction. To his surprise he saw people and boats at the foot of the bridge. The old couple and their children ferried him across what was left of the mighty port. Rusted, decaying ships lied around as if thrown by an angry child. They loomed over him like the limbs of dead giants. Casting eerie shadows upon the water. On the other side he's warned not to stray to far into the "inner" remains of the city. "Strange things happen there", he warned. Thats exactly where he was headed. The excitement and nostalgia of home have now been replaced with fear and sorrow. He remembers a spawling city scape. Two big towers. Buildings made of glass and steel, concrete and brick. Mansions that faced the water. Cathedral's, court houses, hotels, beautiful homes. All gone. Nothing but beach and water now. Sand covered everything. He makes his way west. Skeleton's of cars and buildings as far as he could see. The sun would be setting soon. He wondered if home was still there. The locket told him to hurry. The gold felt cold and heavy. He saw now why the inner city was avoided. A horde. A large one. Possibly the biggest he'd ever seen. The locket was ice now and weighed a ton. HOME! TAKE ME HOME!!, It screamed. The sky was a pale pink with a dark blue wave swallowing it as the sun set in the west. He saw it what was left of the street. Some homes stood!! HIS home, HER home, OUR home made it!! There was no lights though. No sign of life or warm welcome. Boards covered the windows. Paint was chipping off and the door barely stayed on it's hinges. He steps lightly on the porch. His hand gripping the cold, gold locket below his throat. Its so heavy his neck hurts. He pushes the door open softly, silently, like a soft breeze. Its just like remembers. The living room with the carpet he promised to change and never did. The dining room to his left. Small but just right for them. Then the hall to the rooms. Their room. He steps softly and pushes the door open. The locket is so heavy he can barely breathe. Gold and deadly. He walks nothing is in it. All that is in the room is a dirty mattress. He recognizes it. He looks at the wall and falls to his knees. Its a picture. Their picture. She's in that beautiful white dress. So perfect, so beautiful and on her neck the locket. He falls to his knees and cries as he removes the locket from his neck. The relief of the weight he can finally breathe and cry normally, if such a thing is possible. Then he hears it, barely, but he hears it. Like a soft breeze. Then he hears it. A word he hadn't heard in 6 years. Soft like whisper but raspy like some one with a sore throat. The word causes him to go stiff. The locket begins to cut into the skin of his hand his red blood covering the gold. He hears the word again and he begins to turn. When he looks up he hears the word again for the last time. She still looked beautiful. "Dionicio", she said. Then the world began to go cold and dark. The locket wasn't heavy anymore. It was home. HE was home and SHE was alive. They could finally be together.
By Daniel Salazar Jr. 5 years ago in Horror
Matryoshka
Zuzu woke up. The circle over her head glowed a healthy, full orange. She stretched, enjoying just being in bed, turned over to go back to sleep. GET UP. “No,” muttered Zuzu. GET UP. She snuggled back under the covers. GET UP. Zuzu sighed, got up. The orange circle followed her as she wearily rose.
By Kathleen Youmans5 years ago in Horror
Doomsday Locket
Doomsday Locket Written by Robin Edwards Chapter One The Sister I hated that locket, yet I wore it around my neck every day as a reminder. A reminder of what I did. I could feel it laying lightly against my chest. I knew the curve of its shape, the feel of its roughness against my skin without even thinking about it. Sometimes I wondered if I could actually feel it anymore, or if it was just my imagination. It had laid against my chest now for seven years. Seven long years of guilt, seven long years of sadness, and fear.
By Robin Edwards5 years ago in Horror
Death was only the beginning.
By Michael V Gorena He was always the last one picked for everything and he had accepted it his whole life. Not many friends till after high school. His parents called him a late bloomer and others a loser. That didn’t matter to him anymore. Life for the last year and a half ago hadn’t changed much. He lived alone, walked alone and the only place he could escape was in his mind. He had survived but he always wondered at what cost? With no body around except them walking around aimlessly till they found something to feed on. He liked to sit for hours and just watch them from his roof. Clumsy and stupid until one day he saw her. He now fumbled with the the necklace in his pocket as he thought and stared at her.
By Michael Gorena5 years ago in Horror
Doomsday Diary
It was on a Spring Day when John decided to work on his 1956 Ford Mustang that his grandfather gave him on his 16th birthday. Once John turned 18, he joined the United States Marine Corp. After serving oversees for four years, John wanted to retire in Colorado. There, he works as an EMT driver for a hospital. From there, he met the love of his life, Linda. They have been together for about two years. John lives in the woods near the local town so he can be alone. During his lifetime, he has always kept a diary with him. While he was fixing his car, he was listening to the radio. As he was listening, an alarm from the radio station. As mentioned before, he began to write in his diary.
By OmWhitney Rampersad5 years ago in Horror
The People
He sat there in his bed, the pure white cover pulled up to his nose. He peeked over the edge into the darkness. The dream had become so regular that it almost didn’t bother him anymore. Something was different about tonight though, when she was done she didn’t leave.
By Jake Ashworth5 years ago in Horror
The Little Blue Ribbon
A long time ago, a young couple built a house with just four rooms. It was a simple house wood slats, with smaller slats to cover the openings and two by fours to hold up the walls. The roof was equally tiny, with no room to store anything, just tin rafters, insulation, and sheetrock. The couple was deeply in love, laughing, talking, and struggling to keep their hands off each other.
By Jeff Johnson5 years ago in Horror
The End
He looked around briefly accessing his surroundings, trying to figure out how he got here. He could almost hear the gears in his head grinding. As his gaze panned across the decrepit old room, first landing on the rotting wall paper in the corner, then the overflowing trash bin containing god only knows what kind of disgusting bile. There was no flooring, just bare concrete. A drain in the middle of the room was noticeably full and close to backing up. He could here the dripping sound as fresh liquid dropped through the grate into the dark depths. A foul odor crept out of the drain that was nearly impossible to describe. The half walls surrounding the urinal he was relieving himself into where rusted and puckered out. He put one hand to his forehead, the other aiming his piss into the urinal, he sighed deeply.
By Jake Ashworth5 years ago in Horror
