Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
The Legend of Death
Thanas sat at his workstation in the animal cloning lab, a sympathetic frown creasing his face as he tried not to look at the ghost that hovered over his coworker’s shoulder. Patrick’s mother had passed away a few months ago. Thanas could see the weight of her dragging him down. Dark circles under his eyes, hands shaking, Thanas had already put in a complaint but his boss had simply shrugged his shoulders. They needed every available scientist they could get. Avoiding eye contact, Thanas carefully put in his ear plugs, blocking out the incessant mumblings of the spirit in order to better focus on his work.
By Kelsey Reich6 years ago in Horror
The Great Aethin Fairgrounds
The bus bounced briskly over the hill. The day was small but bright and waiting. A small gray and white Mouse with a tattered felt hat and green corduroy jacket sat on a seat towards the back, enjoying a coffee magazine on the commute to the market. He had travelled here on ship, to the city of Aethin, where roads were paved to a shine and a merchant's stall sat on every corner. Every Aethinian had something to sell, to offer, and those who didn't reside in the city of white gold travelled there from every corner of the stratosphere for those wares and services you could only find behind the border of the infamous orange gate housing the landscape, flat in landscape but scaling high in development, apartments packed towards the back like cans of fish while the pear of the oyster, the Fantastic Aethin Fairgrounds, hosted tables and covers as far as the eye could see, rows on rows marked out like a microchip the townsfolk of ones and zeros could direct through with ease. For the foreigner, as most in the marketplace were, one was provided with guides, or, as our friend prefers, you could simply wander in and let any specific shop find you. Things tended to go the latter for most guests inexplicably, but it was also undoubtedly good for business that your customers should always find you when they need, no matter the cost to get there. In Roucks, Mouses hometown, the tram rides come with quarter coffee machines at the back and red leather padded seats. The uncomfortable wood and metal of these sleek town buses were not a place where one would nap and find pleasant dreams, but missing a morning coffee can lead to any perceivable outcome, mouse realized, and the magazine slipped from his paws. He soon was in a weary slumber, unmanned ears still scanning for the final ding of the bell from the driver, signifying the arrival at the Fairground entrance.
By Octavious M!6 years ago in Horror
I'll Wait Til The Mornin
I—probably nobody, both in a sense movin backward and forward here—would have never found the body if it hadn’t been for that scream that woke me out of a dead sleep. I hadn’t lived in West Virginia long but anybody who grew up huntin or spent a great deal of time in the woods had come across that god awful screech at some point or another I’d likely reckon. It sounded like a woman bein murdered. Just hearin it evoked images of a knife being dragged through a woman’s stomach. Course I still couldn’t be sure if it was a bobcat or a barn owl. All I knew was that it kept hollerin and finally I felt a deep bubble inside me burst. A bubble that holds that dark liquid fear that spreads through your innards when your skin prickles up and your hair stands and the stomach tightens; it’s a feelin I’ve felt enough times in my life to trust. It’s a feelin that I believe indicates the presence of evil, of wickedness and danger; of a very very bad thing.
By Dylan R. Nix6 years ago in Horror
Doctor Barnowl
“Sit over there. he’ll see you soon” said the guard as he thrust her through the door. R began walking through the velvet red hallway, guards in black suits, faces covered by white masks lined on either side, looming over her. She wasn't afraid of them, she saw them as mere pawns. The hall seemed to gradually narrow as she approached the waiting room. Dishevelled raven hair covering most of her face, a gleam of aqua blue eyes, and crooked smirk in vision. She sat across from a disgruntled old man and a young innocent looking boy.
By Lauren Jane R6 years ago in Horror
'Ghostflock'
As I skip down the valley of the shadow of the light, mountains so bright, superfluous, and effortlessly still, kill any lingering leeches in the air. Is a bloodsucker not most active at night, when the sky is saturated with liquid darkness, Mother of Light? She automatically replies in the language of universal electricity, that she’s grateful if I’m grateful. She’s love if I’m love… she’s light if I’m light, and instead of being blinded by it, I was seen and initiated by it. This valley and I go way back, and our history is anything but linear. My feet step in the same cyclical caterpillar-like motion, allowing every segment of themselves to make contact until they become butterflies. They recognize the grounds here, and also it’s the other way around because both flavors favor each other. This earth is the audience that never stops clapping, and my feet are the sole instruments played here. Complementing the raucous silence, with every step I take I can hear them amplified to a point of orchestral cacophony. It is bone-chilling, and the chill itself continues cloud-hopping until it’s inside each one of my organs.
By Kristian Proud6 years ago in Horror
The Woods
People talk about how nature is such a peaceful and tranquil place. What a damn lie. Sure, it's not the blasting roars of the technological chrome age, but the woods have always sung their own discordant hymn. Cicadas shriek in feverish debates until the swelter of the relentless sun retreats, and countless nocturnal creatures awaken next to oak trees yawning with age; every sound seems to tumble and drone into one another—a chaotic but rhythmic landscape. I would know. These woods have been watching me since before I could run. Growing up, my grandfather would tell me stories of the predators these woods hid: beasts waiting to snatch up children. It wasn't until I was much older that I realized how serious he was. The summer after I finished college, I returned for Grandfather’s funeral and, at the mortuary, overheard news that four children had gone missing in the woods. That July, I frequently woke up to the harsh rays of Maglites breaking in through my window as search parties combed the woods. The children were never found. Every night since then, I’d sleep with the lights on—a sort of beacon for the lost.
By Neumi Richardson6 years ago in Horror
What she deserved
Momma died on a snowy and bitter Tuesday in January. An awfully normal day to die, Tuesday. When I found her body in the yard, I suppose I should have been sad but I thought good riddance instead. She looked like a statue, skin as cold as marble and snow coloring her eyelashes and dark hair white. That would have made her mad. She spent almost an entire Saturday every month aggressively searching her hair for evidence of her age and when found, slathering it in a dark paste until it accepted defeat. Even gray hairs couldn’t stand up to Momma. Blood trickled out of her mouth, a splash of red in a colorless scene. Her eyes weren’t closed and it looked like she was staring off into the distance, which gave me the heebie jeebies, so I kicked snow over her face until I couldn’t see them anymore. I didn’t believe in respecting the dead, especially when the dead in question had beat the shit out of me most days of the week and twice on Sundays.
By Margaret Stanwood6 years ago in Horror
Ibis no Hypnos
My recollections of any past events prior to the the last seven days are entirely nonexistent... 1:1 Yumei The Matahari was just beginning to creep over the horizon whilst I stepped onto the ever winding path that’d lead me from the village, into what my people call the grazing meadows. It was a large expanse of foliage that tended the needs of the some many, of natures brood. With one of the most profound views in all of the forest, this meadow sat quaintly in the middle with two enormous mountain ranges on either side to the north and south. It also harbored a sparkling river that ran through it’s heart of the meadows’ flowers, and grasses. To the east if one were to walk towards the forest’s edge, one would make it to a barren, and dry landscape which my people rarely ventured too unless in dire emergency for certain herbals that are required for very special ailments, these lands boasted the name Torridead. While the west laid the great waters of Sanna as they were known. Within this vast world, my people laid their heads in the heart of the forest of Torinitī, where it is to have said to begin so too it is said to end.
By Cody Belcher6 years ago in Horror
The Spirit of Vengeance
It has been twenty days since humanity ceased to exist. I expected equanimity but all I have in my heart is fear. I must keep moving. The fate of humanity was brutal but cannot be compared to that which I will experience if at any point I am found. Every second of every day, he draws closer. Often, I hear his cries; infantile screams impassioned with the greatest level of pain. The noise from this creature echoes the screams encompassing Earth on that good day in which the scourge was cleansed at my hand. That day, I felt nothing for those melting before my eyes. I knew it was a necessary sacrifice for the creation of a calmer existence. However, humanity was not the only curse afflicted on this reality. This I know now, and I wish I had known it earlier.
By Aimee Wilson6 years ago in Horror
