Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
The Little Secret
Rhea stared at her bank's balance on her phone for the fifth time in an hour. Thinking that maybe it was a glitch in the system. That the numbers on it weren't the actual numbers in her account. And that she'd just been pranked by a total stranger. The numbers would change back to their normal amount as soon as she refreshed the page. But, it didn't. There were twenty thousand dollars in her checking account as plain as day. Enough to pay her rent, her bills, and anything else that she needed. Whatever she desired. So long as she did as the man who had gifted her the money told her to. Such as writing everything that she had that day into the black book he'd mailed her two weeks prior to the deposit.
By Raphael Fontenelle6 years ago in Horror
Serial Killer or Savior?
I watched him throw our puppies at the walls when they urinated inside the house because he never allowed them to go outside. He put them in a closet or the bathroom and would never let them come out. I was so young, I really don't know if he even fed them. I assume he did though because the bathroom was always covered in dog feces and urine. I remember one of our puppy's heads getting stuck in a hole in the closet and he left him like that for days. It could've been weeks, I really don't know. I remember our dogs had puppies. They were so small. I remember looking outside and seeing them in a crate outside the door while it was pouring down rain. The crate had holes in it, but the puppies were so small they were fighting to not drown, I imagine for all night long. I remember another one of our dogs getting put on a chain in the back yard. When we would go out to play, he would get so excited to see us, but he was so wrapped up around the tree that he couldn't even move. I couldn't tell you if that dog ever got fed either. We had all those dogs and puppies at one time. I remember waking up one morning and not seeing any of them. I asked where they were and he said someone stole them all. I imagine he killed them. As you can imagine, his house was disgusting. There were mice everywhere as well. He also tortured them. I remember seeing a mouse on a sticky trap for so long. It was alive and slowly deteriorated. I was so sad. He walked by it everyday to just watch it die. I remember him throwing a mouse in the sink full of water and just watched it fight for its life until it lost its battle. People wonder why I can't kill a fly. I let bees land on me. I save the wasps flying up near the ceilings at work so that no one will kill him. We have a mouse getting into the bread at work, but my boss knows he can't put out traps without me having a melt down. I let the spiders in the corners of my house live their life. I save the kittens I find and bring them home. I found what I thought was an injured owl in the middle of the road and almost put him in my car until thankfully he started to fly away. People think I am crazy, I am sure, but I am trying to make up for all of the bad he did when I felt so helpless I couldn't save them. He hurt so many animals in the first 14 years of my life. No telling how many he tortured before I was born. I guess I should be thankful that I didn't become a serial killer or something. It could've easily went that way, but instead I gained empathy. So much empathy sometimes it hurts. But I think that might just be my super power.
By Rebecca Cooper6 years ago in Horror
Poor Kid
I watched it all from the backseat of my father’s VW. The truck was flying towards us, filled with Taliban soldiers. “MUM! DAD! STOP THE CAR!” I scream. But it’s too late, and I know it. There’s the agonizing crunch as the truck hits the front of the car. I scream as the back of the car spins towards the truck, but the truck gets out of the way just in time. I’m still screaming as the back of the car comes to a halt.
By Emma-lee Howarth6 years ago in Horror
Foretold
"Ma' sha, the cards say to me that soon, you will be gifted blessings, and there will be a man." "A man?!" The young woman across the table shifted excitedly in her wicker seat, nearly upsetting the bundle of smudging sage that whispered a fragrant trail along the tops of her perched elbows. A dark hand shot forth, showing off a brilliant green bracelet of glass beads and a four leaf clover preserved in resin tied in place with a simple black cord, and he quickly stabalized the stone bowl it was nestled in before returning to trail the tip of a finger along the boldened edges of the upright Marassa card before him.
By Victoria Hill6 years ago in Horror
The Dead of Night
“Has anyone ever really thought about what career they wanted as a kid? I did. I wanted to be a veterinarian, a doctor of some kind. Sadly though, bad things happened in my life... I got into some trouble and dropped out of school. Eventually, I was diagnosed with PTSD and anxiety that stemmed all the way back to my childhood. My parents never believed me when I told them I tried my best to deal with my issues, so I quickly became the black sheep of the family. Everything went south for a while, making me think nothing good would come of anything I did. Until I met him. He made me believe. He made me realize I can do anything I wanted to if I put my mind to it. He saved me. We would do everything together, go everywhere together. We were inseparable. He believed in me when nobody else did, not even myself. No matter what it was, he was always there for me every step of the way. Do you have someone in your life like that?”
By Melissa Miskie6 years ago in Horror
I'll Protect You. Top Story - January 2021.
I heard the crunch of the browned and crusty snow beneath my feet. It was impure, disgusting, and hardened like this damned world. All the people are the nasty little pieces of salt and dirt that clump together, tainting the virgin snow. Every person is poisoned by every other person. Their imperfections, their ugliness. It's revolting. I didn't think anyone was pure to the insanities this world has created. The grey clouds mocked me, keeping the beauty of the blue sky and the sun hidden from me, as I trudged through the slush, watching the chaos of the hideous people skating on the pond, I could smell the exhaust drifting through the one part of the city that was supposed to be celibate from the touch of man's destruction and pollution. People looked away as they passed me, they wished not to see my judgments of them. A small boy ran down the path knocking his arm into my side. My stack of books fell into the slush. I felt my blood boil and a vile taste formed in my mouth as I crouched down to retrieve my goods. That was when you came up behind me and reached your precious hands into the cold mush on the ground, retrieving my lost treasures. Your long dainty fingers wrapped around the broken spines of my favorite novels, your silky skin, the delectable color of milk freshly squeezed from the udder, intertwined with the cream of the old book pages. I turned my head to look at you. Your long flowing mane blocked your face from me, a curtain of golden sunbeams to hide the masterpiece I was awaiting. You turned your face to me wiping away your hair, a youthful glow of happiness and innocence overwhelmed me. Your eyes were two opalescent sapphires to which not even the Hope Diamond could compare. You smiled, crinkling your lightly freckled Grecian nose. Sweet girl, those are not just freckles though, they are angel kisses, or kisses from one angel to another. "Here." Your voice was a melody playing upon my heart strings. Your hand reached towards me holding the books and I nearly fell back into the nasty snow.
By Juliette St. Clair6 years ago in Horror
A Bloody Song
A Bloody Song A Short Film By JD Glasscock All Rights Reserved INT -- WAREHOUSE -- NIGHT A close up on the dial of a boom box, changing radio station from heavy rock, to pop, to heavy metal for a second to a blues/jazzy lounge song. Camera comes out to a guy starting to do a slow rhytm dance as he saunters over the table which has numerous tools upon, a wrench, screwdriver etc and leaning next to it, a chain saw. The man picks up various tools, weighing them, etc though doesnt touch chainsaw.
By JD Glasscock6 years ago in Horror
Little Treasures
The grounds of the house became unmanageable this time of year. I took to the habit of hiring local labor since Donald’s passing, but finding someone able and trustworthy wasn’t always the easiest task. He was a well adjusted boy, it seemed. Well-kempt, dressed appropriately with his shirt neatly pressed, cleaned, combed, with all things tucked in their proper place. Not yet the age for shaving, but I got the sense that he’d keep that in order once the time came. All to say, he didn’t look like the other boys in the neighborhood, or speak like them either. His speech was calm, polite, and almost eloquent for his age. It was void of the garish drawl accustomed to these parts and rightly paired with earnest eye contact. The result of good parenting, I suppose.
By Matthew DiMare6 years ago in Horror
The Converse Carnivore
Major Abraham ‘Bram’ Miller let out a deep and audible sigh. He had waited weeks for this moment, but now it had arrived, the look of confusion and disappointment on Ethan’s face was more than he could bear. The boy was shaking, and the old soldier knew that at any moment the tears would start to flow. Damn it, your first rifle and you act like it’s a turd he thought. As if on cue, Ethan turned to face him, tears streaming down his cheeks.
By Luke Phillips6 years ago in Horror
Dybbuk Taffy
Dennis brushed his wavy blonde hair off of his brow as he placed his hand there in an effort to hold up his head as it was meandering downward out of drowsy boredom. He had been making phone calls and punching numbers into the stupid glowing screen for hours and he still had 3 hours left. Somehow these last three hours were crawling by slower than the first 8. He’d rather scrape the gray matter off his brain with a cheese grater then make another sales call, but he knew this mindless grid was what it took to get to the upper floors. Where they have big open offices and make obscene amounts of money. A place where you're in charge and your opinion is law. He had started very young and spent the last 7 years working his way up each floor. Every floor became more competitive and cutthroat than the last. He was now on the 24th floor out of 50, he was almost halfway there. The 50th floor, that's what he wanted more than anything in the world. Well more than almost anything. Leah Northrum, the company's sales executive. She was his number one. She was beautiful, powerful and had an office on the 50th floor. She was the package deal and Dennis spent most of his waking hours fantasizing about her. “Kyle has been in there a while.” Dennis thought peering over his cubicle at his boss Edward Morris’s office. Though 12 years his senior, Kyle Rambunk was Dennis’s best friend and like Denis, did rather average work for the 24th floor, but for some reason Edward made him the office whipping boy. He called him out on any little mistakes he made and would shout at him for sometimes hours depending on his mood. Dennis had heard that Edward’s wife asked for a divorce so he figured he’d be yelling at Kyle for a while, but 4 hours was a bit much. Finally the muffled shouts became clear as the door burst open. “The company can’t afford to deal with your incompetence any longer and neither can I. You're Fired!” Edward screamed. Kyle backed out of the door slowly holding his binder close to his chest with both arms. Edward noticed the whole office looking at him. His face was red and he was breathing heavy. “Pick up your shit and get out of here.” he said, trying to calm down. Then he slammed his office door. The sound caused Kyle to flinch. “Fired?” Dennis whispered in disbelief. Kyle’s company was the only thing that made Dennis’s mundane work bearable. Kyle went to his cubicle and started gathering things up. The secretary brought a box for him. Dennis went over to help. The two quietly packaged up his things. Then Dennis put his hand on Kyle's shoulder. “Easy street in 3 hours. Do you think you can make it until then?” Dennis asked. Kyle sadly nodded and left with the box in hand. Easy street was the name of a bar on the edge of town where the two often met after hard days.
By Stede Lindgren6 years ago in Horror
Look at Me Now
As soon as he hit the wall, his body went limp, it slid down the wall, his skin and clothes the only things attempting to hold him up. The tearing and scraping sounds harmonized together, a staccato slither, could be heard across the darkened playground. His body finally came to rest on its knees. His cheek was caught on the spackled and dimpled brick, canting his head at a queer angle, his face at the end of the wide bloody trail down the wall in a close-eyed sneer.
By Vulture Writer6 years ago in Horror
