Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
Nightmare in the Flesh
I awoke with a start from a nightmare. I couldn’t remember what it was but it had been something very terrifying. My breath caught painfully in my throat and I sat up like a bolt in the bed. My eyes hadn’t adjusted yet but I could tell something tall was standing at the door. I reached over to shake my husband, silently but firmly, all the while keeping my adjusting eyes on the figure watching us. Just as he woke and moaned a groggy “Whu? Hunh izzit?”, the thing in the doorway lumbered away with a lopsided gait.
By Nathan Carver6 years ago in Horror
The Monster in Micah's Closet
Chompy Micah, my son and the light of my life, turned 6 years old a few months ago. In keeping with his latest obsession, his birthday party was dinosaur-themed and one of his presents was a ticket to our regional Museum of Natural History. I recorded at least three hours of footage of him stomping around in the dinosaur boots I bought him. They make a roaring sound effect with every step. My husband gave me the eye when I picked them up, knowing I may very well be purchasing a bunch of sleepless nights. But I just couldn’t deny him the sheer joy of being a dinosaur.
By Nathan Carver6 years ago in Horror
The Arab Wedding
Within a mile or two of Kairouan were various small orchards and gardens, and Ali Hassan told me importantly that he was the owner of one of these, consisting of olive trees, fruit trees and vines, for which he had given 600 francs, and that with taxes and extra payments the whole had cost him no less than a thousand. I was suitably impressed. But during a drive in that direction some of his pride collapsed. He had shown me his property with its mud hut in one corner which he referred to magnificently as “ma maison.” He intended to have it moved down to the roadside end of the field, “for a highway brings much money.” There he will have a little shop and sell coffee and beans, grapes and fruit.
By Nathan Carver6 years ago in Horror
The Superstitions
Mohammedanism is the national religion of Tunisia, but it is not always realised that there are many sects, each basing its belief on the teaching of different religious leaders during the first centuries after the death of the Prophet. The divergences arose in the first instance from varying interpretations of the words of the Koran, and doubtless these divergences have crystallised since into very marked tenets. There are, I believe, more than eighty religious “orders” in the Moslem world, but the word does not bear the same signification as it does in European countries. The follower of an order belongs to an association which does not interfere with his family life or with his profession. At the head of each denomination is a “sheik” who takes up his dwelling, as a rule, near the tomb of its founder.
By Nathan Carver6 years ago in Horror
The Story of Lonzel Manor
ON A DARK AND MOON FILLED NIGHT, AN EERIE SILENCE FILLED THE AIR. IT HAD BEEN 15 YEARS TO THE DAY THAT ROSEMARY LONZELL WAS THE VICTIM OF HER OWN HAND. LEGEND HAS IT THAT ROSEMARY WAS SO HEARTBROKEN WHEN THE LOVE OF HER LIFE LEFT HER. ANYWAY, I’VE HEARD STORIES OF THE MANOR BEING HAUNTED, BUT I BRUSHED IT OFF, LAUGHED IT OFF, WHATEVER; I
By Love Writing A Latte6 years ago in Horror
Kairouan
It was cold, but a glorious morning when I left by motor for Kairouan. Soon the white houses of Tunis were left behind. The sun was rising as we flung its outskirts behind us, and the car headed for open country. Rocky hills showed themselves on the horizon, and there were abrupt peaks rising out of stretches of carefully cultivated vineyards, orchards of olive trees, and broad fields just tinged with the promise of early wheat. No walls, but occasional cactus hedges. The road climbed a saddle of hill from whence one could look back on the sea. A few houses here and there, flat-roofed and built in the Moorish style, were obviously the homes of the landowners. Not an inch of ground seemed wasted. Arabs were already at work behind their wooden ploughs, drawn either by horses, mules, bullocks, or camels. These last looked as if they were inwardly protesting against the indignity, and stalked along with their usual disdainful air. After a time the road led into wilder country, bare stretches covered only with a sort of rough heathery plant, with scattered encampments of Bedouins, their black tents surrounded by a zareba of piled thorns. At last we caught the gleam of the white domes of Kairouan against the sky.
By Nathan Carver6 years ago in Horror
The Doctor and the Serpent
Doctor Edward Kidder unfastened the buttons on his waistcoat, smiling wanly out of the carriage window, the maroon silk curtains flapping daintily in the breeze kicked up by the horses. He ran a hand over his thinning hair – a once vibrant strawberry blond now waning to a ghostly grey – smoothing back the wisps dislodged from the slight wind slipping in through the open slot.
By Dani Buckley6 years ago in Horror
