Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
Words Like Wildfire
It wasn't until she had run several miles in the opposite direction of her front door that Serenity finally felt the release of one of the threads of tension strung across her chest; the only problem was, it felt like there were a thousand more still holding strong. God, she wanted to scream. But she knew this town and its inhabitants all too well. The judgment and gossip that would follow would be insufferable.
By Kori Tarkon6 years ago in Horror
Timothy Crips Little Black Book
Timmy explores a small room in his closet. He opens the chest and finds a little black book with white pages. Putting it aside he continues scrummaging around the chest and finds a box with a surprise. He crawls back into his room and goes running to find his mom. Stopping when he sees her in the kitchen.
By Lore S. Crown 6 years ago in Horror
Unfinished business
Darkness started to surround me with the coldest of wind on this winter night. Sometimes I wonder why I get myself in these situations. I just love to explore, and plus, this forest is rumored to be haunted. I knew the only place I could take shelter for the night would be that creepy old cabin. I’d rather be scared to my wits than freeze to death right? My hands were shaking as I entered threw the broken wooden door. “Hello, is there anyone in here? “ upon asking I heard a loud thump of what seemed to be a box that fell right by my feet! Startled, I just had to investigate. “A notebook? “ how random is that right? Not only was the notebook Ridiculously heavy, but their was also an envelope with the words, “do not open, until list in black book is complete!”. And to my surprise, I heard another thump! I was starting to believe that I wasn’t alone. I searched the entire cabin, and still found no one, but felt the presence of something..... something other worldly. I wasn’t the type to believe in ghosts, but I was starting to get creeped out for sure! I decided to light candles that I stumbled upon on the counter. Now that I had more light to see, I noticed pictures of a beautiful woman. It was a memorial of her. “Mildred Mcdillon, 1990-2020.” I thought to myself, “ok Mildred, what crazy adventure do you have in store for me tonight!” I chuckled to myself, and in that moment I heard a woman’s voice right behind me. “Ooopen”! Screeched the creepy voice. I felt my sole turn around faster than my body did, at that moment I knew it was Mildred. I collected my courage and opened the black book. To my surprise, only one page was written on. “Bring the red box under the seventh wooden tile, vertical from the fireplace to, 1709 sw cardinal street.” It seemed so easy, but why would their be just one simple thing on that list? I asked myself. I walked slowly towards the fireplace and counted the tiles, finally getting to the seventh one. It was very loose, and very dusty, but I was able to get the tile off without a struggle. I couldn’t believe my eyes! The red box was there! My heart was beating so fast, on the top of the box was bumps, almost like braille writing. I was so tired but I knew I had to get that box to that address as soon as possible. I grabbed the box and ran threw the darkness towards the main road until I finally made it to the town. I almost felt like Mildred was with me the whole time, I didn’t feel cold, and I was able to see threw the darkness. Every time I stoped, the wind would blow even harder, almost like her spirit was guiding me to get there in a fast pace. Taking a deep breath, I finally made it to the address in the book. The wind started to blow fiercely towards the door, almost like Mildred was knocking on the door for me. I heard footsteps behind the door getting closer with the sound of a consistent clicking noise. As the door started to open I tinderly introduced myself. “Hi, um im Ashley, and I have a red box from Mildred for you.” The tall boy excitedly reached his arms out and started to cry. “Mildred is my mother, she passed away, I’ve been looking for that red box for months! But I am blind!” I walked up to the boy, and put the box in his hands. He moved his fingers across the top, with so many emotions in his face. He put his hand out to me and I gave him my hand. With an exited voice, he told me to open the envelope. I reached into my jacket pocket and grabbed the envelope, and started to gently open it. My eye widened, “I don’t think this was for me!” Inside the envelope was a blank check for 20 thousand dollars. The boy smirked, “ yes Ashley, Mildred wants you to have it, no gratitude can compare to how happy this makes our family. Sign your name, and enjoy.” He turned with the red box and went inside his house. I stood there in shock and confused. 20thousand dollars! I jumped up and down and ran home with the biggest smile, and felt that Mildred would be a part of my life forever. Even though I was so scared, I still helped her finish her unfinished business from beyond the grave. It brings light to how mothers will be there for their children even after death! I looked up to the sky and yelled out with relief. “Thank you Mildred!”. I still don’t know what was in that red box, but I have that black book. In fact, I am writing this story in that black book as you read this. Maybe someone will find this black book again, and share the story of Mildred. Until then, I will leave it here in the cabin, with my address and a small list with a surprise envelope.
By Wyoming Peters6 years ago in Horror
The Ghost Nina
I remember her fingers the most. Their bony spider dance webbing threads into needles at the window where I first saw her. Dancing, dancing, dancing their spiderly dance. Transparent and terrifying in their pursuit. I would often see her at that window and I would often try to follow her in my mind into the dark dampness of her concrete cage. Did her spider fingers crawl into crevasses and lips at night? Did she sleep soundly? What kind of nightmares and torments and hopes and fears did she harbor? Where did her mind travel to when I was not around to witness it?
By Victoria Chwalek6 years ago in Horror
The Shaper
“This is wrong and I’m gonna destroy it.” That was what I should have said when Stella and I found The Shaper’s notebook. It was no bigger than a card you would receive on Christmas. The leather was so soft I thought it was velvet when I swiped it. It could get lost in any bookshelf.
By Acey Santos6 years ago in Horror
Owl's Glint
Another day and another way from the Pretty Patties find some stupid prank to pull on me. Almost every day they seem to come up with different ways to torture me just for “the laughs” as they say. It’s been exactly three years since I moved here and close to two years when they started all this pranking business on me but today on the other hand was mute for them. Just to steal my umbrella in gym class seems a bit mediocre compared to dumping a whole box of raw egg whites in my hair a few days ago. Oddly enough everything they do is overshadowed by just the mere sight of Darwin standing at my front door today. Walking in the soaping rain to see him at the door sent shudders in my heart and who would have guessed with such a sweet delicate face he has can change so quickly to a full bouquet of roses just by seeing me wet from the rain.
By Nicholas B. Jolley6 years ago in Horror
Three Paces
There was little to be said about the slab of stone that stood at her feet. A green tinge had coated the outside of the stone, reaching up from the ground in thick tentacles of vines and moss, algae and other plant matter. These vivid green tendrils slowly faded as the stone stretched aware from the ground, fading into a deep grey. It was an unmarked stone. Or at least, she wishes it was. The earth was so clearly trying to reclaim this stone that stood before her, the plant life a sign that of the shame mother nature felt towards what she had created, what she had allowed to step foot upon her soil. But that is the point, is it not? To remember. The pain that we feel, the anguish that we toil in, to see that things within this world can not only be bad. They can be worse. They can dig into the tired outstretched threads of our soul trying to hold together all that we care for, all those we hold dear. And it pulls. It tears. It stretches you so thinly that you can’t hide your pain, and in the same breath you cannot reveal it to the world. If you try to fight against it, the pain will resist. Sometimes it resists a little less and for a brief moment you can feel a bit more whole. Other times the pain resists harder than you can ever hope to pull and new tears open up. And now the core of your soul is bared to the world, not out of desperation or choice, but out of the sheer rupture of your humanity as all your failed hopes and dreams and all your losses are laid bare and then immediately washed away by the scorn of those who cannot be asked to understand what you lost, nor can you ask them to.
By Quinn Johnsson6 years ago in Horror
The Sacrifice
Shawn sat in silence looking at the pictures on his phone. Taken last summer. It was the last time they had a chance to take a trip, the last time they laughed like that. A night out in a new city. She was stunning in her blue dress, and he just smirked at all the jealous guys seeing her with him. He loved that.
By Jen Greenebaum6 years ago in Horror
The McGuire Place Tradition
I had never had the poor fortune of spending the night in the old McGuire place. I arrived in Carrolton the summer of my seventh-grade year, dragged to this new house by my father’s promotion and the rising cost of living in the town we left behind. After hearing the tales from the gang on May Street though, I have often felt gratitude that I arrived one year too late to take part in that childhood ritual.
By Emily Gray6 years ago in Horror
Red Velvet
“Jessie, you are not coming into this house with those muddy shoes,” mother stated. I looked down at my tennis shoes and realized they were filthy. I couldn’t even see the color of my shoes anymore. I immediately removed them and placed them on the back porch of my house. I rushed into the bathroom to clean myself off from the mess I was just in. I was glad my mother did not push too much about why I was so filthy. I sat on the edge of the bathtub waiting for my heart to stop pounding. My mind was racing, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I thought to myself, “was I safe now that I was home, or was I still in danger from what just happened?” “What do we do with what we found?” My twelve-year-old mind needed to stop racing and calm down.
By Lolly Cruz6 years ago in Horror
