Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
The Perilous Guide
I sat in my car watching the clock as it turned to 10:55 am. I took a deep breath and approached the old olive-green Victorian home that was recently restored into a bookstore. This was my first job after isolating myself for a few years. I lost all hope for my future and purpose, so I basically became a hermit to try and find myself again. I am different than most people. I struggle with social anxiety, know what others are thinking and feeling before ever speaking, and I like being alone. I pushed my long dark hair out of my face and headed up the stairs. I was nervous to say the least and could feel my heart pounding with every step. The familiar smell of books and coffee helped relax my nerves. I could hear my new boss, Emily, approaching as her heels clicked along the vintage hardwood floors. “Good morning, Raven!” She excitedly called out as she was making her way to me. “Good morning, Emily.” I repeated back to her. Her stunning silver dyed hair and green eyes would make her stand out in any crowd she was in. She showed me around the store and familiarized me with my day-to-day tasks. Make coffees for customers, dust the bookshelves, put books back in order, ring customers up, water the plants, and anything else I felt needed attention.
By Shadna Devine6 years ago in Horror
Papered Flames
Beads of sweat line my upper lip as I struggle to hang on to the cardboard box filled with plenty of well read novels I'd harbored over the years. I study my moms curvy handwriting along the top as I brace my arm against the old wooden door frame in an attempt to balance it on my knee. I could hear her voice now.
By Bailey Bush6 years ago in Horror
Elimination Game
“It’s finally over.” I think. My hands shaking involuntarily as the bloody knife falls from my grasp, the tip digging into the linoleum before clattering to the floor. I collapse to my knees, a mixture of relief and disgust washing over me. The shaking spreads out from my hands, engulfing my entire body. A laugh, sharp and crazed, rips its way from my chest. I run my hand through my hair, the blood matting my it to my scalp.
By Kevin Barkman6 years ago in Horror
Llegando
She’s gonna be late. She knew it. Even though she got up and out of the apartment thirty minutes earlier than normal, she still wasn't going to make it into the lecture hall before Dr. Watson finished his post-chapter review. She's been warned already this semester that tardiness would not be tolerated in this course. Yet here she was, getting ready to rack up her third such tardy in as many weeks. If only she had a few bucks, she'd stop and pick Dr. Watson up a doughnut. She was already late, so what harm could it have done? Oh well, she thought. The joys of being a poor college student.
By Maria Morales6 years ago in Horror
Sheila
Mother Nature was in a giving mood today. Sunny. Mid-seventies. Just breezy enough to mess up your hair. If you weren’t outside on a day like today, then you were stuck at work, stuck in jail, or dead. I sat on the cabin stoop, pondering nothing, when Butch came prancing across the dooryard to show off his prize. It was a small, black journal or diary. I took hold of it and yanked back and forth, side to side, his head followed suit and a whiny growl suggested that he had only wanted to show me his find, not give up possession of it.
By Michael Wheat6 years ago in Horror
The Gift of Woe
It was a good sized chunk of money, there was no denying that. Not exactly massive inheritance sort of money, but certainly pay-off-my-student-loans money, extravagant European vacation money, perhaps even homeowner money, but buying a home seemed so far-off and boring when she hadn’t yet finished college or had an extravagant European vacation. The most exciting thing about the money was the name Mira Cardwell printed neatly in small, professional letters just after “Pay to the order of”. She handled the check carefully as if it might turn to sand with a single breath, allowing herself at last a small, tentative smile once it became clear that this was unlikely to happen. Seeing one’s own name written down by foreign hands on such a life-changing little piece of paper had an odd turn to it; a funny little twist in the stomach that tightened the heart and its moorings and drew everything together in a little ball of pleasant anxiety.
By Jacob Zuko6 years ago in Horror
Departures
It was a bad day already, and it was barely midday. Coming to a stop on the sidewalk, Jack stared down at his sandwich with resignation. Stronger emotions, such as disgust and disappointment, had departed long ago. Jack William O'hare dreamed of being disgusted.
By R.V.Barrett6 years ago in Horror
