Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
Chinese Urban Legends
Chinese Urban Legends and ghost stories to tell your friends? In China, there is a tradition called "Ghost Month," which is seventh lunar month, when Chinese people can believe in ghost and think that they are released from hell to wonder the world for a whole month. Traditionally, during the Ghost Month, Chinese people would tell stories. Here are some of the stories.
By Ms. Thomas5 years ago in Horror
Ships on the Dead Sea
In a town by the sea, ships are a daily sight. They are our lifeblood, constantly coming and going with the riches far off lands offer. This was true once for our little village on the sea, before the world changed and left everything in pieces. Now, the sea is empty. Empty of life and empty of ships. At least that is what I tell the townsfolk.
By Cody Dunnington5 years ago in Horror
To Reason With Death
Characters: Vincent: A man in his mid-thirties, dressed casually; medium build, with very high ambitions. Death: A woman of unknowable age and wisdom, wears a simple dress and little jewelry. Willing to aid those able to pay the right price.
By Lillianna Nightveil5 years ago in Horror
The Herefter Ch. 2
His eyes opened with a start. Above, he saw gray clouds in the sky above. The leafless tree tops swayed in the wind. He was cold. Damn he was cold. Slowly, he got to his feet. Was he in an accident? He didn't feel hurt. Steve – that was his name, wasn't it? - gingerly patted himself down waiting to feel something out of place. All he could remember was another car's headlights. What the fuck?
By Tom Strachan 5 years ago in Horror
THE GHOST OF PIRATES PAST
CHAPTER ONE--THE PIRATE CURSE Lana Reyes pushed through the crowd on Fifty-Seventh and First Street in the bustling town-square as she passed under faded green arches. The vining trails of jasmine and honeysuckle clung to the cracked stucco as she took in the scents of her seaside garden wanting to remember every second of peace before full chaos ensued. She was only a few hundred feet away from the docks as she ran quickly down the stone encased steps making her way over to the dry wooden structure that jutted out along the coastline.
By K.H. Obergfoll5 years ago in Horror
The Anima Project
I open my eyes in a womb of darkness, all encompassing, except for a thin shaft of light that pierces the curtain of black around me. The light is reflected through a rounded patch of glass above my head, and fear erupts within me as I realize I must be within a confined space. I am lying on my back, and I notice that my limbs find a peculiar resistance when I try to move them- as if I were under water. I can breathe, but it doesn’t feel natural, and as I force my stiff right arm through the substance surrounding me, I touch my mouth. A large tube protrudes from my throat, I nearly jerk it free out of pure instinct until the rational part of my brain reminds me that I am still submerged. Instead, I reach above me toward the light. I feel the roof of my containment and push, it takes effort, but it gives, and I slowly lift it aside. Once freedom is within sight, I rip the tubing from my mouth and lift myself up. As my head breaks the surface, I take my first gasp of true air, and crawl out of my cage. Rubbing it between my fingers, I can tell now that what I have been sleeping in is not liquid at all, it feels like some kind of gel. As my eyes fully adjust, I can see the faintest of dust particles fluttering around the section of floor where I sit. The ground is hard, something like cracked linoleum, and I see what looks to be mounds of rock piled around the room. Rising to my knees, a pain like pins and needles shoots through my extremities as life creeps into them. My mind feels empty, my thoughts covered in cobwebs, so many questions plague me, not the least of which is why my limbs feel this way at all. I look at the rough, calloused hands in front of me, turning a reddish pink as blood starts coursing through them again. I squeeze my right fingers into a fist and flex them open again, raise my left hand, and touch my face. Hesitantly, I press it to each of my features- nose, mouth, hair, ears- everything is there… But it all feels wrong. I can’t remember anything, how I came to be in this place, where I had been before- even my own name eludes me.
By Joshua Morelli5 years ago in Horror
The Apothecary
The Apothecary By Kami Bryant The Apothecary drove two hours from the city to the small fishing town on the Oregon Coast. She drove a ten-year-old white, non-descript American made car. The car didn’t have a single bumper sticker or fancy tires or rims and was so ordinary that it wouldn’t draw a second glance. She drove exactly the speed limit and stayed in the right lane.
By Kami Bryant5 years ago in Horror
The overture
Prologue The air was thick with the bittersweet tang of blood. Crows and wolves were already gathering for the feast. A sound could be heard every now and again amongst the dead and the dying; sometimes a cry for help, mostly an injunction for blessed release. Soldiers moved around the dead bodies, helping those that could be saved out of the battlefield and helping those that could not, out of their misery. Other figures moved too, helping themselves to whatever valuables could be found on men who needed them no more. Washing his hands of the blood and the grime, Balaen Stramar watched the proceedings dispassionately, having watched this macabre scene more times than he wanted to. His weary eyes spotted riders, silhouetted against the setting sun, heading towards him and raising a small cloud of dust in their wake.
By Yogesh Sawant5 years ago in Horror
