Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Horror.

The Witches of Wizards Alton
Like most English counties, Stiltshire has had its fair share of witches, wise women, warlocks and various persons of pagan interests. Stiltshire folk over the centuries have been generally tolerant of such people, believing them to be at best purveyors of an ancient craft of healing and miracle working, and at worst harmless eccentrics. In the days of the witch hunts the county came under scrutiny and at first roused the interest of the witchfinders. In many a tavern could be found people who, on being plied with a few quarts or slipped the odd shilling, could be relied upon to recount lurid tales of child sacrifice, of flying broomsticks, or of elderly women indulging in unnatural practices with black cats or, more usually (this being Stiltshire), black pigs. However, on closer examination, the alleged perpetrators of these acts invariably proved to be strangers whom no-one could identify, victims’ names were curiously absent from parish registers and the secret glade in the middle of the forest always turned out to be one of a dozen such clearings, each with a blasted elm or a prominent ring of mushrooms. In the end the inquisitors, faced with this lack of hard evidence even by their standards, and increasingly out of pocket, turned their attention to other regions where the locals were more willing to betray their neighbours for the price of a pint or two.
By Tony Nunn6 years ago in Horror
The Clinging
Mr. Pitts didn’t know where it came from or how it came, but it was there suddenly in his what became his lonely life. It was visiting him constantly, and it always drew a dark scenario. It was like a rock holding him down making his steps heavier and heavier, prohibiting his progress, making his life into an unknown flight. A heavy cloud indeed, and it reeked of melancholy.
By Bazooka Teaches6 years ago in Horror
Open Mind: Chapter Ten
The following morning was my first day adjusting to the new Dogwood routine. Or at least, my first day of being aware of the Dogwood routine. Since I had remained so lucid throughout the previous day, I was no longer afforded the luxury of sleeping in. Mister Greg turned on the lights to my bedroom at 6am to summon me to the nurse’s office.
By ZCH6 years ago in Horror
The Long Dafferd Cat
The village of Long Dafferd, some ten miles north-west of Stilchester, is banana shaped, moulded by the lower contours of Dafferd Downs and the western edge of Oxbake Woods. The road from Epfield to Cruftmere meanders through its centre and is called Lower Street; the only other thoroughfare runs more or less parallel but around ten to twelve feet higher and is known by the equally inspired name of Upper Street. The church of St Jerome stands above Upper Street, but many of the other buildings are set on sloping plots of land between the two roads, including three of Long Dafferd’s four pubs: the Merperson, the Plough and the Giddy Goat all have two entrances, one on each level.
By Tony Nunn6 years ago in Horror
Kitchen Sink
Humbull was away most days doing what he did and nobody knew what. Old Mother dared not ask, the neighbors dared not imagine. Humbull always returned home on the brink of twilight, when it was hard to tell if the sky was black or blue. Those ungodly hours of the night echoed of Humbull’s kicks on the door, often startling Old Mother up from her sleep. No warm slumber at night but dreamless freezing was Old Mother’s routine, who never stopped eagerly waiting for her son.
By Karna6 years ago in Horror
Escape Room Survivor
Crystal, Steven, Myself and Bruce were all sitting in Bruce's car before it was time to go in. The place was an old bowling alley on a kind of old and quiet part of town. The main street behind us had almost no traffic at this time of the evening. The street light flickered overhead.
By Pet_Elly6 years ago in Horror
My neighbor planted his fingers in my yard. They're starting to sprout.
"Sorry," she huffed. "That damn dog is too fast for her own good." I laughed and scratched Pearl's ears. "Have you been a good girl, today?" I asked her. Mrs. Douglas snorted.
By Pet_Elly6 years ago in Horror
The Walking Dead: Why Aaron And Gabriel's Trip To The Water Tower Could Spell Disaster
WARNING: SPOILERS for The Walking Dead 10x19, 'One More' The third of The Walking Dead's six Season 10 bonus episodes, 'One More', focused on Aaron and Father Gabriel in the middle of an extended supply run, scouting potential food supplies with a map given to them by Maggie.
By Kristy Anderson6 years ago in Horror
Till Death
Freija woke from her slumber and a smile curled at her lips. It had been a good night. She could feel Trevor’s warm, toned body pressed up against her, his arms wrapped cozily around her waist. She fit perfectly into him. It was a good feeling. A damn good feeling, she thought to herself, waking up in a man’s arms. She missed it tremendously. It had been almost 2 and a half years since she laid like this with a man.
By Linda Hippolyte6 years ago in Horror
A Box of Night
I never left Cairo with the division. Over the following three days, fourteen soldiers died of a mysterious ailment, two of them army photographers. The men were billeted in the desert at the edge of the city in a small village of tents. Many of them were conscripts, the “odds and sods” who had been called into service because of the great need for men. Out there, in the heat and the sand, they began to die without apparent illness or injury, in gruesome fashion. A man might climb into his bunk whole and hale and never wake again. The bodies of the dead were shriveled and papery, like husks. The eyes stared, bulging from their sockets, pupils blown to wide, dark windows. The jaws hung open in silent screams. They looked like nothing so much as mummies, except for their horrifying expressions. They were men staring into an unspeakable abyss.
By Liz Zimmers6 years ago in Horror
Can't You See the Sign?
Sign, sign, everywhere a sign. That line was his favourite. He preferred the Tesla version of the song, even though the original was written by a Canadian band. Being a Canadian himself, he had a fondness for homegrown music, but there was just something about Jeff Keith’s raspy voice that made him shiver inside. It was those feelings that drove him to be a musician in the first place, that and the killer rock 'n' roll lifestyle.
By Desmond James6 years ago in Horror
A Girl's nightmare
“It’s time for bed Sarah” my mom said as she walked back into the living room. She picked up the TV controller so I leaned in to give her a kiss goodnight.
By Peggy Sue Danielle Rush6 years ago in Horror