Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
Dark
She turned her head to the left and peered behind. It was dark. She couldn't see him but she knew he was there. Her face forward, she began to walk a bit quicker. Her steps light on the cobblestones. She wanted to run. Maybe even scream. She knew there was no way she could outrun him, and to scream seemed pathetic at best, seeing as she was far from town and not a house to be seen. Oh why had she taken this path home? There were other safer routes, well-lit ways home, but she was sometimes at the worse of times foolish.
By Edwina A. Lewis7 years ago in Horror
Rant Edition One
Ghosts. Every year, as All Hallows Eve approaches, it's the same story. "Once in a Haunted Castle..." or "At summer camp, there was a...". Why can't people be more inventive than that? What about the ghost in the middle of the street, getting run over again and again. Or the ghost that lived in the attic but the most you know of it is that every so often, there's crying?
By Faith Young7 years ago in Horror
Message in a Bottle
L’Ollonais was born a whisper that thundered up to a roar. At first a name, a rumour, a blemish in the gutters of Port Royal. Tales told by those returning from isles as near as Tortuga and further afield. Men who recalled witnessing crews of Spaniards jumping from their sloops to certain death to escape his merciless clasp. “The Flail of the Spaniards” was the whisper as that privateer gained a legacy.
By Liam Wisker7 years ago in Horror
Who Is Peter England? (Pt. 2)
The day I met him felt no different than any other. My parents had already left for their business trip, so I made myself breakfast, got myself ready and left for school. I walked my normal route, all 17 minutes of it, lined up for class, it was all routine. Yet still, this was my most fateful day to come. The day I met my maker. He was this little blond kid, with blue eyes and perfectly groomed, straight hair. With his slight build, very non-threatening, he had this gentle look about him, dangerously disarming. He had a way with words, always so polite and so very charming. You could say he was that kid that adults loved. Teachers adored him, as did the students. He always smelled.... what was it again? Like maple oatmeal. Not to say that that's why people liked him, but it added to his image.
By Storm Harper7 years ago in Horror
Gerald's Game Film Review
I don't consider myself a King expert, at least in the realm of his actual books. I've read The Green Mile (which was years ago) as well as one of his early works published under his Bachman pseudonym, Rage, which would have made a really effective "bottle film" and has themes that are more relevant today than ever.
By Parker Stanfield7 years ago in Horror
Final Girl
Kayla Simmons, 45, was laughing at herself as she stumbled out of the cornfield. She’d been planning and saving for this trip for a year-and-a-half, and there wasn’t much of it left: It would be hilarious, in her mind, if she’d wasted her remaining time stumbling among the tall stalks.
By JRD Skinner7 years ago in Horror