Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
Franklin and the Little Black Book
Franklin had become quite shocked when he had opened up his book bag and had found a mysterious little black book. With a hint of hesitation, he reached into his bag and pulled it out and held it right in front him. He thought that nothing about the book came familiar to him at all, in fact it seemed quite new, yet old fashioned at the same time. From the bindings to the covers and the pages underneath seemed so mysterious and interesting that its potential origins began to bother him as anxiety began to creep throughout his body from the thought of it. He placed it down on the table in front of him and began to flip through the pages and analyze it more thoroughly, but they were all blank except for a small sentence on the first page that read, “Who Are You?”. “Who Are You?’, Franklin read out loud, and then just after that as he began to go through it one more time, he saw those same words appear on the next page, and then the next, and then the next one after that. He started flipping through them in a rush, becoming more entwined and focused on it, until the sudden bark of a dog made him jump and he came out of the trance.
By Alejandro Jesus Bottenberg6 years ago in Horror
The Void Enigma
Charlie was an introverted and curious kid. He lived in a small town in Nevada where nothing interesting ever happened. People were born, raised and lived their entire lives in this town without ever really venturing out. They worked on farms, or in factories nearby. There were no tourists, or visitors. The town wasn’t even located on some maps. It was a quiet, self-sufficient, uneventful and isolated place.
By Stephen Monsanto6 years ago in Horror
No Escape
Dark red rivulets of blood poured from the gaping wound on her arm. She clutched at it, trying to quelch the flow. It soon became apparent, however, that there would be no time to nurse the gash.They were coming upon her fast, and she had to get away before she would get injured even more, or worse, killed. The sound of thousands of ear splitting screeches in the distance was more than enough to signal her grand escape from the bloodthirsty monstrosities. She groped for the gun attached to her belt. When it was finally in her hand, safety off, she turned tail and ran for the cover of the forest. There it would be harder for the demons to find her. Her wound proved to be too great for her to retain her stamina, and as she limped forward she could hear the creatures gaining on her at an accelerating rate. She found a bush to crouch behind in an attempt to elude the ghastly creatures.
By Laurel Mayfield6 years ago in Horror
The Living Death
The city of Mahvehli always had a strangeness to it. It was situated in the state of Assam, which lay in the northeastern part of India. It also lay close to the Himalayas. The strangeness in that city stemmed from a line of temples that were made about 2500 years ago. The temples, which shall remain nameless to hinder any excursion to them, held objects of great value, both religious and monetary, to the Indian Federal Government. So for years the Government of India guarded the temples, especially the one that held the legendary book of Rathnaran, which looked like it was made in a factory of modern times. The book documented the arrival of Ma Kaali in an ancient crime and injustice ridden India. For the sake of this retelling, we shall name that temple " Maeri".
By Syed Arabi Khalique6 years ago in Horror
Inheritance
She sat at the kitchen table slowly sipping her freshly brewed coffee, her fingers flicking through the pages of the little black book once again. She had received it as part of her inheritance from her grandmother, £20,000 and this blank book. The leather cover was cracked and peeling like old skin, but there was nothing else of significance about the book apart from the fact that her grandmother had been seen with it not long before she had disappeared in mysterious circumstances. The police had no leads and years later they made the decision to close the case, assuming she must have died, and her body lost or taken.
By Jo Skinner6 years ago in Horror
Used-to-be-Arthur and the little black book.
It was quarter past three on a Thursday afternoon, and Arthur was dead at his table in his usual diner. Surprisingly, for the fact that he was (emphasis on past tense) an otherwise healthy forty-six year old, it took two hours for anyone to discover that he was no longer as healthy as he had been. And when someone did, it was not the someone Arthur might have hoped for it to be. It was not, as Arthur may have wanted, a paramedic. Or even a member of the faux-jovial staff that always pretended to remember his face.
By Sophia Shearwood6 years ago in Horror
It's All in The Eyes
The lights were glaringly bright, bouncing off the blank screens wherever she turned in the stark office. She caught sight of her reflection and spun hurriedly back to the one lit screen, preferring the horror it imparted to the wide eyed, drawn countenance she would not have believed was herself.
By Gina Harmon6 years ago in Horror
