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Most recently published stories in Horror.
Chapter 1: A Crimson Rewrite. Content Warning.
January 2, 2598 | 5:00 a.m. Tuesday morning For centuries I have watched humans kill each other in the name of religious and politic power. I have watched humans cling to the possibility of surviving those who take their freedom away, just to have that hope dashed upon the rocks of history. Once upon a time I founded a research center to help stop such things from happening. It was named World Death Intervention Research Center, or WDIRC for short. The point of the facility was to help prevent horrible, hopeless situations of every caliber. From dictators, to alien invasions. Nothing was off the table. I did not realize that there were some scientists who got greedy for knowledge had ceased power within WDIRC. Not until it was all too late. It all happened so fast. One moment I am going about business per usual, until I wasn't. Four armed guards had taken me deep into the bowels of the facility. I was sedated heavily then restrained in a hospital bed. Next thing I knew centuries began to pass by while I began to slowly starve. They didn't want me to intervene in there conquest to make weapons in the form of abilities they did not understand. I doubt they understand them presently either. My imprisonment ended when a couple of powerful subjects broke out of their confinement. From what little was left of WDIRC, they happened to destroy all the facility's fail safes in the process. Good for me at least. Reader, I promise there is a reason I am explaining all of this. It is best for you to know who is documenting everything. I find that it is easier to understand a point of view if you know a little context first. The context being that this world I have found myself in wasn't the one I had left when I was first imprisoned. After my captivity ended I found myself in a world I was unprepared for. This world is broken and rather bleak, if I am being honest. All I want presently is to find out what exactly transpired, provide assistance where I can, and restore hope for a better tomorrow. I, Somniare Omnia, refuse to let a less than desirable situation break me. Perhaps I have have lost my understanding humanity, however, I have not lost my desire to assist humans live in peace.
By Somniare Omniaabout a year ago in Horror
SEASON 3 : The Black Lung Communion: How a Surgeon’s Journal Sparked a Demonic Outbreak
CHAPTER 5: THE BONE TASBEEH They didn't stop running until the heavy iron door of the old wing was far behind them, its darkness swallowed by the marginally lighter gloom of the main corridor. Liam slammed his body against the wall, chest heaving, sweat cooling on his skin. Althea leaned over, hands on her knees, vomiting onto the clean linoleum.
By Tales That Breathe at Nightabout a year ago in Horror
The Nineteenth of September
Every nineteenth of September, Samuel wakes right before dawn. The slight discomfort in his chest wakes him, the kind that makes him shift, toss, and turn in bed, searching for relief. He sometimes wonders, as he stares at the fading moonlight, if it’s because of the extra medicine Aunt May gives him the evening before. It is always bitter, chalky, and hard to swallow, but she says it’s to help him sleep soundly. He never does.
By Carla Marquezabout a year ago in Horror
