Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
The Scare Shop
Maria and her friends had heard about a shop where the owners scare their customers. They were at a bar one night not too far from their college. A middle-aged man came over to their table and pulled up a chair to sit down. A younger man who Maria recognized from school was with him. She had just seen the young man here and there, but she did not know him. He pulled up a chair next to the other man.
By Shelly Bartley6 years ago in Horror
Milk
“Mary Ellen, Lillian, ya’ll take the milk up the hill to the Emmitts. Be back before dark.” The young girls, eight and seven, always loved this time of day. The elderly couple loved their visits as well. In the height of the Great Depression, it was a blessing to have a cow that gave more than enough milk for a small family and it was a blessing to the old couple on the hill to have a neighbor that owned such a cow.
By Grant Whitehurst6 years ago in Horror
Switch
Over the way, in the giant concrete block of flats that make up Bailey Court, there is a little light that comes on at 1.15am, every single morning. It looks like a little candle, standing in the window, and the flame burns brightly in the darkness of the night. I see it as I get myself a drink of whiskey with ice, the same as every night.
By Karen Cave6 years ago in Horror
Deep Red Eyes
Kent stood in the foyer. Across from him was a large painting hanging on the wall sandwiched between two curving staircases leading up to the landing of the second floor. He stood there gazing at the picture. First he surveyed the frame, it was a single solid piece of walnut with Celtic designs etched in gold and dark green running around the edges he did not understand the design nor the meaning behind it, yet he had to admit that it was appealing to his sight. The painting itself seemed to be a single sheet of velvet stretched taught. He looked towards the center of the picture to see that it depicted a woman sitting in a rocking chair. She was beautiful, youngish he guessed around mid-thirties, and it was hard to tell but using the rocker as a scale he put her at, probably, around five-foot-nine and one-hundred twenty pounds. Next he took in her attire, she was dressed in an ankle-length black dress with a dark red, crimson maybe, lace trim. Her long pure white hair flowed over her shoulders but did not obscure her face, he found it oddly attractive paired with her young features. Her expression was one of sorrow, artfully exemplified by the arch of her brow and the tilt of her perfect thin lips. But there was something deeper there. Kent continued to study the painting hoping to understand what else it was he was seeing. Was it something in those dark red eyes? Perhaps, but alas he would not solve the mystery today.
By Morgan Cartwright6 years ago in Horror
Footprints in the Snow
It was a cold winter afternoon early in the last century. A mother huddled in her cabin on the west fork of the Little Pigeon River in Tennessee. She held two of her children in a tight embrace … but one was missing. Her two-year-old son had wandered away from the cabin earlier that day. Since then, the temperature had been falling steadily, along with a heavy snow.
By Sylvia Shults6 years ago in Horror
Coming home
Thirteen year old Jessie didn’t look back as they drove away from her house of seven years. Living with her abusive stepfather, it had never felt like a home, and now that she was leaving all she felt was relief. This time he’d gone too far. Her mother was in a coma in the local hospital and it wasn’t known if she would wake up. She didn’t care what happened to him but her heart squeezed when she thought of her mother and a single tear rolled down her face; but hadn’t she allowed that man into their lives? She was supposed to protect her child and she allowed everything to happen. The bitterness and blame was too strong and she couldn’t forgive her mother for exposing her to that evil man and everything she had endured in the last seven years.
By EthelBella6 years ago in Horror
Daymare
What is that infernal beeping? If it’s your alarm clock again, Simon, I swear I’m going to smash it with a hammer. All I wanted was to sleep in without noise. These thoughts ran through my head as I lay in my cozy bed. Sleeping in on a Saturday morning, something I rarely get to do; it would have been nice had I not been jarred awake by such an atrocious racket.
By Heather Little6 years ago in Horror
Meeting the Parents
Lila could see the house looming in the distance from the end of the winding drive. Her girlfriend Mari pulled the car over to assure her, before driving the last stretch. Old houses gave her the heeby-jeebies, but it wasn’t the house she was afraid of. It was meeting the parents. “Lila, daahhlin’. Please trust me. They are goin’ to love you. I prawmise.” Mari said. Words spilled out of her lovely girlfriend’s mouth like warm honey. She was everything sunshine, with waves of golden locks, creamy skin and big pleading hazel eyes. According to Mari the house was scarier than the parents. “My mama wouldn’t let us down one hallway when we were little. Aunty Pearls ghost stories still give me creeps.”
By Angelique Sanchez6 years ago in Horror
Retribution
This useless vessel which was once my body, contains some semblance of what I used to be yet it hangs ineffective below my head, numb and lifeless, immobile perhaps due to cold or lack of movement; conceivably both. There's a change in the air, an icy nip not there a few short days ago. I know this because I can sense the goosebumps on my uncovered extremities, the change in the air that surrounds my motionless form. Days have gone by, days which travel into nights so very slowly; on dark wings of sooty cruelty. Nights with darkness so deep and inky black it smothers me, sitting on my face like a wet cloth, snug and clingy. Suffocating.
By Heather Little6 years ago in Horror
The House on Juniper Lane
The House on Juniper Lane stood apart from the others, alone on the edge of town. Trapped somewhere between civilisation and the wilderness, the old and unloved house had been home to a Miss Montfort at one point, but no-one had seen or heard from the old lady in years. It loomed over the single-track lane that ran between high hedges and over-grown trees on its way up to the moors. People went to the moors to disappear, and it was said that some of them really did - following the false-lights and corpse-candles until they were welcomed into the cold, earthen embrace of the moors.
By Daniel Lyddon6 years ago in Horror
Immortal || Chapter 24
Natalie’s POV I might've squealed a little with excitement. It was a go on that end of the plan. Now to talk mom into going without Johnathan using compulsion. I had no idea he had such ability. I guess if he wanted me to know to begin with, he would've told me. My mind went one hundred miles an hour as I thought of how he might've used it on me. But I never felt any different... except my feelings for him had changed. I farrowed my brow and crossed my arms. Is that why I have such strong feelings for him now? He used compulsion on me? The more I thought about it the more annoyed I felt. But I couldn't think of me right now.
By Sabal Cloonan6 years ago in Horror
