Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
The games we play!
Stumbling forward from a sorrow drowning bing just moments earlier, Allen walks dejected down a dark and Smokey alley. Allen falls over a duffel bag. He slowly looks around and an empty alley stares back. He quickly opens the bag and is instantly frozen. Allen face is flushed as he checks for onlookers. Allen wipes his face in amazement, in the bag was bundled up cash. Allen quickly stands himself up and dust himself off. In disbelief, Allen slaps his own face to somehow sober himself up. Knowing that he has to make a quick decision, Allen grabs the bag and walks briskly forward to the opening in the alley that leads to the street. As Allen reaching the street a phone rings. The ringing startled him. Allen cautiously looks around. The streets were unusually barren. The only thing the stood out on the street in this gloomy night was a single pay phone that seem to be under the only working street light, Serving as a beacon. Allen looks away, but the phone continuously rings. Ignoring the phone, Allen try's to understand what's happening and where everyone is. The ringing continues and gets louder and louder, distracting Allen from his thoughts. Allen storms over to the pay phone, picks it up, and slam it down. He breathes a sigh of relief, for now he is able to focus on this fork in the road he is saddled with. An eerie quietness covers the streets and Allen is shaken by the sudden ringing of the phone. This time Allen answers the phone. "Hello" says Allen. A brief silence comes over Allen and then a response from a gravelly deep voices answers back. "Allen don't be alarmed." Says the voice on the phone. Allen replied "who is this? How do you know me"?
By Karlzell Johnson6 years ago in Horror
Gathering
The fluorescent lights create a pulsing beat of nothingness. A nothingness so bright that I gotta squint to see it. I like when the lights are off. When my mind is left to create the world around me. When my senses are untethered to the false realities of what others want me to see. Taking me back to our little cabin in them trees, few steps up from the creek.
By Georgi Eloise6 years ago in Horror
It's Not What You Think
I don’t care what anyone says everything is better when you have a lot of money. My friends and I are sitting around a table in Los Angeles’ most expensive restaurant. I look down at the menu that is in front of me and my face fell. Everything on here cost more than I have. Part of me is screaming on the inside. How am I married to America’s richest man and I can’t afford to eat out like I am. I told him weeks ago, that I need to start getting an allowance or access to his bank account, but nooooo he hasn’t made it happen.
By Nina Smith6 years ago in Horror
The Secret
This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just a thought, one based on fear and fear alone. That’s the catch though. A thought can be harmless. It’s the action that coincides with the thought that allows people into your psyche to judge whether or not you are explicitly evil. Does one action, though detrimental to life as you know it, make someone a saint or a monster? In my case, my fate and judgement is placed in the hands of the jury.
By McKenzie Bollinger6 years ago in Horror
Little Black Book
Little Black Book Dec.16, 2016 had started out like any other day for Henry. He'd worked late that night and when finally arriving at home had been surprised to see the house standing dark and quiet. He'd unlocked and opened the front door, stepped into the boot room. "Paula?" Henry had called out. Silence. He'd headed into the kitchen and that's where the note had been waiting. It had sat resting on the marble countertop and Henry had walked over and picked it up, unsuspecting, never guessing that his life was about to change.
By Jantina Welygan6 years ago in Horror
House of Monsters
*** disclaimer: This story depicts sexual and verbal abuse Scrcchhh srchhh srcchh. Three scratches always three, never more, never less, and always in sets of threes that never failed to send a familiar trail of goosebumps creeping down my spine every time I walked by the basement door. But not this time. I welcomed those three scratches, finding an odd comfort in the way that they sounded like nails scraping hard against wood.
By Brittany Taylor 6 years ago in Horror
No Good Deed
When I met him he smelled of peppermint and honey. What an odd scent for a man to have I remember thinking to myself at the time. It was overpowering but gentle like thick poison lulling me to sleep. I wish I could blame my downfall on that. That would be easy. Simple.
By Brittany Taylor 6 years ago in Horror
Two Wishes
"How are you holding up, kiddo?" Katherine rested her hand on the young man's shoulder. His quivering subsided for a moment. The desperate gasps of the recently orphaned boy echoed through the apartment as she glanced at her brother, an imposing man who stood in the doorway with his arms folded.
By A.T. Baines6 years ago in Horror
