Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Horror.

The Owl. Top Story - January 2021.
New York City. A city fueled by a world of opportunities and the millions of dreamers, driven by ambition and passion, who dared to take a step into the competitive race, yearning for a chance to be a part of the reason for the city’s famous reputation.
By Marian Tibrey6 years ago in Horror
A Harrowing Howl
Darkness. There is nothing but darkness. I am lying in the dead of night, surrounded by the eternal blackness. I wake up. Gasping for air. I have never felt so afraid. I suddenly jolt as a loud and unrelenting hoot of an owl is heard just outside my window. I turn my head. The owls piercing eyes staring me down. I have never felt so afraid. Thud! A noise from downstairs sent my heart rate through the roof. I have never felt so afraid. ‘I live alone,’ I thought. Who could it be? What could it be? I am engulfed in the fear of the unknown. A voice told me to check it out. Slowly I rise from my bed and gingerly make my way towards the door. The floorboards creaking with my every step. I place my hand on the cold, steel door handle. Another hoot from the owl outside threw me straight back under the covers. I have never felt so afraid. Why is this happening? What had led me to this point in life? Overcome with fear and paranoia. What event had occurred in my past, forcing me to live like this? I want to be brave. Fear cannot rule my life anymore. I throw back the covers and make my way out of the door. I begin my descent down the spiralled staircase. After what seemed like hours. I reach the bottom. The hallway had never seemed so long. I walk. Carefully making my way towards the kitchen. Turning my head constantly to make sure nothing was waiting in the dark… waiting to pounce. The end of my journey was nigh. It was now or never. Closing my eyes, I muster up all my courage and burst through the door to the kitchen. I expect the worst… but there is nothing. Nothing. My kitchen is as boring and as normal as any other day. A sigh of relief flowed out of my body. A smile crept across my worried face. ‘Back to bed then,’ I thought. It was late, and I have work in the morning. I leave the kitchen and head back up the stairs to get back into my bed. I reach the end of my summit. Ding. The doorbell. Who could it possibly be at this time of night? Just like that, the smile was wiped from my face. I creep slowly back down the stairs. “Who is it?” I call.
By Jacob Ash6 years ago in Horror
Pool
The lull of the stops and starts of traffic had pushed me to the near breaking point. I was on minute 45 and I knew if I could make it just 20 more, I wouldn’t end up screaming at my windshield with uncontrollable rage.
By William Smart6 years ago in Horror
Abigayle's Pram
“Are you coming?” Nicole turned her dark eyes over her shoulder and down the creaking steps. Terry’ face reddened. He felt trapped. Had she caught him staring at her ass?
By Christopher Thompson6 years ago in Horror
Who Is Afraid of the Dark
Do you ever get the feeling that you are being watched? You look around and don't really see anyone, or hear anyone but still feel like something is there. Is it a ghost? Is it a weird feeling that builds up inside of you. You think your imagination is playing tricks on you.
By Misha Trubs6 years ago in Horror
A Series of Eerie - Part Three
"Don't be afraid," I remember my mother saying to me, "it all melts eventually." I wish things could be that simple. When I was younger I was afraid of the icicles that would gather outside our front door. I would hesitate to walk outside until my mother explained to me as long as I was careful, I'd always be safe. That became how I handled everything in life, with great caution. I never jumped into anything.
By Olivia J Edens6 years ago in Horror
La Lechuza- The Barn Owl Who Takes Your Soul
I knew going out that night wasn’t a good idea. In hindsight, I felt like the universe had given me all the warnings. The strap of my new pink heals broke, my car took a whole 25 minutes to start in the freezing weather and Tom never returned any of my calls.
By Annabella6 years ago in Horror
The Mouths of Hungry Babies
Was that the sound of dogs in the distance? Arnold couldn’t be sure. He didn’t want to believe they had tracked him so quickly. As he stumbled through the woods with his bum leg slowing him down and the light of day fading, Arnold decided that it might be better if he just hid out for a few hours before continuing on. It would give him some time to figure out what to do next.
By Nancy Gwillym6 years ago in Horror
Breakfast
Breakfast I began my breakfast as I did any other day. I cracked two eggs into the cast iron pan. They hit the oil with a sizzle, and the whites began to puff up and fry, forming tiny lace-like holes. The smell of the smoking olive oil hit my nose, and Rosie lifted her black and white head from my feet and licked her chops. Her breakfast would be in the barn today.
By Isabelle Lewis6 years ago in Horror
Shapeshifting Night Owl
Eeringly hooting, silently gazing, & territorially possessing, Malor is waiting in bone penetrating darkness for his prey. His focus and will are without flexibility in this moment. His readiness of action is still and immaculate. Malor has been waiting to devour his prey with joyable ruthlessness. How could Malor feel any mercy for a man that abused his mother, privately molested him, and cowardly got rid of his dog that his mother and father bought him for his fifth birthday?
By I AM6 years ago in Horror
Night Owl
I’d always like to think of myself as night owl; a I stay up later, I don’t need as much sleep as a regular couch potater, type of fellow. You’ll get strange looks though, when you start to share your late night experiences with others, even if they are for the best part unequivocally mundane. A light midnight jog for example, with that rain that keeps you switched on and alert, ready for that fourth slippery step as you glide down on to the footpath that takes you under the bridge.
By George Dallimore6 years ago in Horror
WILD
The wind was brutal and so cold it cut like a knife sharpened by the devil himself. Would you expect anything less from Chicago during winter? I march through the thick bed of snow, and I’m too busy gasping for air like a maniac to pay attention to the violent wind, spitting flurries of snow into my face. The steam I’m still blowing over the entire accident is helping numb my body from the cold, like a furnace of fury within me.
By Inez Anette6 years ago in Horror