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Most recently published stories in Horror.
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The candles flickered in the soft breeze coming from the open window, carried in with the din of traffic below. Night had descended some time ago, exchanging the harsh rays of the sun for the even more abrasive glow of neon signs advertising weekend drink specials, hotel vacancy, and nighttime store hours. Blair had always preferred the twilight hours more than the extremes of day and night. Twice a day the sky would dissolve into calming purples and oranges, whispering the shift change as tired commuters wandered home, allowing for the streets to be at their quietest, if only for a moment. Daytime only offered the alert, and all of their annoyingly persistent energy. Nighttime offers an energy of a drunker, rowdier variety. This evening had an especially grating quality to almost every minuscule detail: karaoke singers wailing too off key, car horns honking too loudly, neighbors fighting too aggressively. Though, Blair supposed, everything had been this way recently. Too exhausting, too overwhelming, it was all just becoming too much.
By possessed_by_lxght6 years ago in Horror
The Game
Sweat beads pouring down my face, the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, my sweet daughter’s warm-brown eyes pleading with me across the room; I only wanted what was best for her, none of this should ever have happened. Hands trembling, I take the scissors and the black book and run to her. A stampede of combat boots hitting the cold concrete ground -- I hear them coming. The time is now. I need to cut the wire.
By Avery Ross6 years ago in Horror
The Last Percocet Pepsi
Margaret is chasing her dog in clumsy circles on my front lawn. She’s 75. How do they not catch you? I lower myself to the carpet and crawl to the window. Rising to peer over the sill, I freeze. Her dirty face breathes, open mouthed, just a few feet from my own. Her slow, bleached gaze finds me, and she bares rusty teeth.
By Julie Anderson Slattery6 years ago in Horror
What did we sell?
"Just a glass of water, no ice," the old man said in a raspy voice to the waitress as she took our orders. Juan called him the benefactor, a sickly old man dressed in a refined black coat, baggy suit, black mask, and what looked to be an old-style of Ray-Ban sunglasses. We sat at a booth at the Frontier restaurant across from the University of New Mexico, a sort of hub for some of our commissions and client meetings.
By Erin Smith6 years ago in Horror
Buck's Birthday Weekend
I was on my way to visit my hometown for my friend Buck's birthday when I pulled off the interstate deciding to take the scenic route and hopefully find a sub shop that looked good in one of the small towns I'd pass through. I was in no hurry to get there so it seemed like the perfect chance to do something like this. After all, I had several hours before meeting Buck and his wife, Sam.
By Gregory Dilcox6 years ago in Horror
