Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Horror.

Uncle Rick's Book
In the busy city of New York, a dated book store is particularly slow today. The afternoon sun is blaring through the windows, giving the shop a warm energy. Gerald is about to get off of work today when his boss, North, stops him.
By Seth Nesbitt6 years ago in Horror
Lost and Found
As I got dressed, I kept trying to forget what just happened . Trying to forget why I was getting dressed in the first place.
By Cydnei Chyan6 years ago in Horror
Grimoire
Alice sat alone in her living room, shivering, gobsmacked. She stared, wide-eyed, at the small black book and the open brown leather briefcase filled with crisp, new $20 bills sitting on her coffee table, her mind racing, her thoughts a jumble.
By Richard Vannguyen6 years ago in Horror
West Coast Homecoming
Sam turned right, off the pavement and onto a dirt road. The car began to bump along with the potholes, grass grew in the road, and branches scratched the windows. Sam wondered if access would be restricted now, trying to remember that last time they were there. But, as the trees thinned, Sam knew that not everything had changed.
By Harper Wellman6 years ago in Horror
Winner.
Winner. 1.0 Coke Fucking wine more fucking wine I needed more fucking wine I could handle my drink but I couldnt believe I was sitting in a room with elites that truly felt as though they were above the average local because they wore jimmy choos instead of D.S.W. I glanced across the room and saw a young women waitress beautiful red hair fiery added color to the white cold room filled with minimalist art, if you even consider this fucking shit art. I understood that art was subjective but drawing strokes up and down a canvas and slapping paint over it while your coked out in your 5th ave rental, doesn't suddenly make you Salvador Dali it makes you Augie with daddys trust fund bored and able to do whatever the fuck he wants. Kill me now. She stood there with the yellow liquid pacing around asking guests if they wanted a cup. Ma’am i'll take three I need to get drunk, I thought to myself.
By Est German6 years ago in Horror
Dark Child
He was quite confident with the decision he made on the cabin. It was small, settled into the densest nook of the woods, had running water, electricity (most of the time), and a village near enough to sell his catch of the day when he needed cash. The brick was overrun with moss, and yes most of the doors and windows were falling apart, but he needed something to fill his days anyways. He could easily see himself spending his time by the brook for hours on end, reeling in the bountiful trout and the sounds of hammering and brush strokes narrating his days. Hm. Spending time. It is certainly a currency, and it's one he has gambled and found himself in debt with. This was a way to burn through even more of it, but at least this time he was in nature and pandering around with his own mind and earth’s fruits.
By Hadassah 6 years ago in Horror
The UNlucky Day
Charlotte narrowed her eyes at the home improvement project in front of her. Knocking down this one dining room wall would give her a much needed larger living room. She didn't really need a dining room anyway. To her, a dining room meant family holidays and gatherings. She was pretty sure it was going to be nothing but sitcoms and TV dinners for her for awhile. He told her she could keep everything. All he wanted was his freedom to marry her instead.
By Janel 6 years ago in Horror
Slinky
At night my blood leaves me to join the other in the room. It lives under my floorboards like a pearl and has done since I was born. I never really see it clearly but it enters my dreams every night. I will never hurt you but I need to lend your blood it says to me in raspy whispers as if its gurgling the mouthwash my Dad uses. I know it leaves the house but that's all I know for sure. The rest is siphoned in my head whilst I'm dead to the world so it could all be made up. I sense it leaves my window, slops across the lawn like a water bomb and scales the garden fence. Beyond lies the village where it feeds all night. Not blood. It feeds on muscles. Not enough to kill but enough to make its victims weak. In time they strengthen again. Like all cattle I guess. It liquifies their muscles and drinks them. I think its brown, the juice. Its brown in my dreams. Pouring out of their mouths into its quivering open excited cavity. It slurps and smacks and licks. Such enjoyment from something so gross. Muscle soup. Yuk! People wake up utterly tired and visit the doctor. A tonic is needed she says. To fortify you. Its a bug. There are lots of tonic bottles in homes in our village. When its full it comes back home. I sense it cooling down in the fishbowl, licking my goldfish and making it thinner. I have to chuck extra flakes in when it does. My poor fish. Hardly any muscle left. I think it came from the sea, my floorboard friend. Or the hospital waste. Sometimes I sense my dead Mum. Like I was, I suppose its sort of my undead baby. Living next to me. I've seen tentacles in my dreams, blood-filled tendrils reaching into open throats to do their slippery work. They head for the heart first, its favourite treat, so thick and strong. Then the limbs get diluted leaving just enough to move. For fun it often fingers the anxious brains of its victims but this thinking mass is of no real interest to a muscle eater. All those stringy neurons. All that baggage. That's how I know it drinks muscle. In my dreams. We're sort of connected mentally I guess. Sometimes it leaves a trail of fluid like snot across bedroom floors and straight out the windows, but by morning it's crystallised into nothing. Maybe its my strange placenta or a sick moat mollusc. Who knows. It could be ancient. Or my age too! Its hard to say. Anyway, I call it Slinky because it moves like one. You know, sort of flippy floppy. Sometimes, if my head is turned straight, I see it back-flipping up my bedclothes towards my mouth. When I get my blood back in the morning and re-inflate I feel great. Really great. I hope my parents never move house. I'll have to take Slinky with me. In the fishbowl I imagine. For now we're doing well. I'd better get up. It's time for school and as usual I skip breakfast. I take an apple or two to keep my Mum happy and then I run. I run past houses where I know its been. Like circuitry the faded trails all lead to me, a battery of blood muscles ready to pop. I lean back in class and smile at the girl sitting next to me. She looks tired. Really really tired. A thin line of brown stuff dribbles down her chin.
By R Woods6 years ago in Horror
"Oh, my burning feet of fire."
Be aware of the possibility of a large flesh-eating giant when venturing into the woods of the Mid-West and North East. This terrifying figure is a member of Native American folklore, specifically Algonquin-speaking tribes. There are many different descriptions associated with this gruesome monster, but most agree that is a large (15ft tall) malevolent organism that feeds on human flesh.
By Jude Vain6 years ago in Horror
Fortune
She blinked. She had been born Samantha Elisabeth McTaggart but her friends just called her Sapphire. She was a smart, enthusiastic and clever little girl, or at least that’s what the adults always said when her friends came over to play. So that was why it came as no surprise to Samantha, that she now held the most valuable book in the world in her hands. It didn’t look like much but she knew better, it was often the least inconspicuous objects that held the most worth.
By Michael Gulyas6 years ago in Horror
Yours alone to enjoy
Johnny Whitmore had the priest dead to rights, framed up nicely in the iron sights of his model 1873 Winchester rifle. The ache in Whitmore’s body from lying prone for two hours in wait was almost unbearable. He was getting old - A few years ago he wouldn’t have even thought twice about setting up an ambush like this.
By Dave Tilgner6 years ago in Horror
Reflect for a Lifetime
It was only a couple months before that Jenny had laughed in that supposed psychic’s face. Although now in retrospect, she probably shouldn’t have. But come on! He had really told her that her life was going to take a turn for the worst. She had laughed and told him he was two years too late for that prediction! She had after all overcome all the hurdles - her parents trying to convince her that she wouldn’t be successful working for a publishing company or William telling her he couldn’t be with a feminist woman! Despite her massive breakup, her move across state borders to New York City, she had managed to not only survive, but to be successful! She had already gotten a promotion in the 6 months that she had been working for Blaustenhouse Publishing Company. Jenny had also managed to secure a condo in Manhattan! The Upper West side! Her agent had told her it was a steal…rightfully so. Who sells a condo here for only 200K? Plus it was absolutely beautiful, with sunlight streaming through the glass to ceiling windows, the marble countertop, the bedroom that could easily fit a king sized bed…that psychic had to be faking! Everything was finally looking up. She had moved in within a month. Her plants were placed strategically throughout the corners to let in some nature and she had splurged a bit on her soft velvet white couch. Deciding to get rid of her old things, she had decided to furnish her new condo with expensive and tasteful things. Her kitchen drawers held expensive silver flatware, her bedroom housed a fluffy white rug and an ottoman she just had to buy. It had taken her a few weeks to get it just right and quite a bit of money! One thing she was really surprised by was that the condo came with this absolutely gorgeous mirror. It was right in the center of the fireplace and when she had asked her agent if the previous owner was going to be taking it with them, her agent shrugged and said they had left it. Jenny assumed the owner had loved how the mirror fit into this apartment. It was like it was made for it with the minimalist gold detailing and a shine that hadn’t disappeared despite the dust that had collected. Jenny was more than happy to accommodate her TV in her bedroom instead. Who doesn’t like to lie down while watching reruns? This place was absolutely perfect, a dream come true.
By Shweta Gupta6 years ago in Horror