Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
Judgment Echoes
Long before the courthouse rose in the city’s center, long before the modern robes and gavels, there was a hut on the edge of the forest. It was crooked, humble, and always shrouded in fog. People called it The Judge's Hut — a place where verdicts were spoken in whispers, and justice had many faces.
By wilson wongabout a year ago in Horror
Whispers from the Void
Titan, Saturn’s largest moon, had become humanity’s new frontier. The atmosphere was thick with methane clouds, but beneath that toxic haze, vast mineral riches awaited extraction. In 2103, the Helix Mining Colony was established, housing 120 workers in rotating shifts.
By Razu Islam – Lifestyle & Futuristic Writerabout a year ago in Horror
The Third Mirror
I know this sounds like something from a movie. But this story is real. It happened to me earlier this year, and even now, I don’t feel safe talking about it. But maybe if I tell you what happened, you’ll know what to do if you ever see your reflection doing something you didn’t. Let me start from the beginning. • My New Apartment Was Perfect I had just moved into a one-bedroom apartment—top floor, quiet neighborhood, cheap rent. Too good to be true. There were only two mirrors in the whole place: – One in the bathroom above the sink. – One full-length mirror in the hallway near my bedroom. Simple. Clean. Normal. Or so I thought. • The First Time It Happened It was late. Around 1:30 a.m. I got up to get water. Walked down the hallway. Didn’t turn on the light. As I passed the full-length mirror, I glanced at my reflection like always… …but something was wrong. My reflection wasn’t moving. I had taken two steps forward. But the “me” in the mirror stayed standing still. Eyes locked on me. I stopped. It caught up a second later—snap—as if buffering. I stared at it for a long time. Told myself I was just tired. But I didn’t sleep that night. • Things Got Weirder The next night, I saw my reflection smile when I wasn’t smiling. Another night, I walked past the bathroom mirror and saw someone else reflected behind me—just for a second. I turned around. Nobody there. But when I looked in the mirror again… my reflection had something in its hand. Something long. Sharp. A piece of broken glass. My hands were empty. • The Third Mirror That weekend, I invited my friend Sam over. While I made tea, he asked, “Hey… did you hang a mirror in your room?” “No,” I said. “Why?” “Because when I passed by your door,” he said slowly, “I saw someone looking at me from inside. Looked like you. But you were in the kitchen.” I ran to my bedroom. There it was: a new mirror on the far wall, perfectly clean. I had never bought it. “I swear it wasn’t there yesterday,” I told Sam. He didn’t laugh. He just said, “I don’t think you should sleep here tonight.” • I Tried to Get Rid of It I took the mirror down. Carried it outside. Smashed it with a hammer. The glass shattered, but there was no reflection in any piece. Just blackness. Like a hole. And when I turned to go back inside, my hallway mirror had fogged up on its own. Four words were written in the condensation: “WHY DID YOU LOOK” • The Reflection Moved Out of Sync That night, I covered every mirror in the apartment with towels and duct tape. I set up my phone to record while I slept. The next morning, I watched the footage. At exactly 3:11 a.m., the towel over the hallway mirror slid off by itself. A pale hand reached out of the glass. Then the reflection of me stepped out. It stood at the foot of my bed, breathing. Then it leaned down… and whispered something into my ear. I couldn’t hear what it said on the video. But when I woke up, I was already standing—staring into the hallway mirror. • Something Was Replaced Over the next few days, people said I was acting strange. Quieter. Colder. Sam said, “You look like yourself, but… I don’t know, man. Something’s off.” I looked in the mirror and smiled. My reflection didn’t match the smile. It looked forced. It was like something was wearing me. I started finding mirror messages: “Let me stay.” “You looked too long.” “You belong on the other side now.” • The Mirror World I went back to the mirror I smashed. The pieces were gone. But in the corner of my hallway, I noticed a flickering—like light bouncing off glass. I stepped close. Closer. And then I was no longer in my apartment. I was in a room that looked like my apartment—but mirrored. Everything reversed. And darker. A copy of me was sitting on the bed, grinning. It said, in a voice just like mine: “Thanks for letting me out. You can stay here now.” I ran. But when I woke up in my own bed the next morning… There was no mirror in the hallway anymore. • The Ending? Now, sometimes, I look into shop windows and see someone behind me. But when I turn around, I’m alone. Sometimes, when I brush my teeth, I see myself blinking too late. Or smiling too long. I tried to warn others. I posted about it. Most people laughed. But a few messaged me: “This happened to me too.” “I smashed mine. It didn’t work.” “They’re still watching.” So now I’m telling you: If you ever see a mirror where one wasn’t before… If your reflection starts doing things you’re not doing… Don’t look. Don’t speak. Don’t smile. And whatever you do… Don’t turn your back on the third mirror.
By Silas Blackwoodabout a year ago in Horror
The Last Broadcast
The Andromeda Relay-9 was launched in 2075 — a deep-space satellite designed to explore interstellar frequencies and black hole echoes from beyond the Milky Way. Two years after its deployment, it went dark. All signals lost. It was presumed destroyed.
By Razu Islam – Lifestyle & Futuristic Writerabout a year ago in Horror
The Silence Beneath Europa
In the final months of 2099, the Nautilus-12 descended through Europa’s frozen crust, part of a historic mission to explore the ocean beneath the Jovian moon. NASA and the Global Exploration Authority had invested decades into making the mission possible. The stakes were enormous.
By Razu Islam – Lifestyle & Futuristic Writerabout a year ago in Horror
The Girl Under the Bed
Let me tell you a story that still keeps me up some nights. It’s not made up. It’s something that happened when I was 12, the year my family moved into a new house in the quiet part of town. It was a peaceful street, big trees, friendly neighbors. The kind of place where nothing bad ever happens. Except… something did. And it started the first night I slept in my new room. 1. The First Knock I was lying in bed, still getting used to the creaky old walls and the weird smell of old wood. Everything was quiet. Then—knock. knock. knock. I jumped. It wasn’t the door. It was coming from under my bed. At first, I thought maybe I imagined it. Or maybe a loose pipe? Or the house settling? But then I heard it again. Knock. Knock. Knock. I whispered, “Hello?” Silence. Then a tiny voice replied from underneath me: “Can I come out now?” 2. No One Believed Me I screamed and ran out of the room. My parents rushed in, turned on all the lights, looked under the bed. Nothing. “Probably a bad dream,” Dad said. “Maybe a mouse,” Mom added. They gave me a night light and went back to bed. But I knew what I heard. And the next night, at the same time—knock. knock. knock. “Please… I’ve been so quiet.” 3. I Asked Questions I didn’t want to talk to it. But I also didn’t want to ignore it. So one night, I whispered: “Who are you?” The voice replied, “I’m Lily. I used to live here. But they forgot about me.” “Who forgot you?” The voice didn’t answer right away. Then it said, “Everyone. Even my mom. Even God.” That made my skin crawl. I asked, “How long have you been under there?” And the voice whispered: “Since I stopped breathing.” 4. The Photos I started doing some digging. I went to the local library and asked the oldest lady at the desk if anyone named Lily ever lived in our house. She gave me a weird look. Then pointed me to the archives. After searching for an hour, I found a newspaper article from 1995. It said: "Local Girl Missing—Last Seen in Bedroom" Her name was Lily Monroe. Age: 10. She vanished without a trace from our house. Police found no signs of forced entry. Her parents moved away a year later. And the creepy part? The photo in the paper showed my bedroom in the background. 5. Things Got Worse After that, the knocks didn’t stop. They got louder. She stopped saying “please.” Now, she just repeated the same thing over and over: “Let me out. Let me out. Let me out.” Sometimes I’d wake up and see things on the floor—small handprints in dust, even though I’d just cleaned. I started putting heavy boxes under the bed so nothing could move. But they’d be pushed out by morning. 6. The Footprint One night, I left flour on the floor, just to see if anything happened. The next morning, there was a single bare footprint in the middle of the room. Not mine. Too small. Too… clawed. And under the bed? A deep scrape on the floorboards. Like something had dragged sharp nails across it. 7. I Tried to Talk to Her Again I was shaking, but I did it. I got down on my knees, stared at the darkness under the bed, and whispered, “What do you want?” She replied: “I want to be real again.” “What do you mean?” “I’m almost done becoming.” I didn’t sleep that night. 8. The Shadow A week later, I saw it. I woke up to a sound like breathing—not normal breathing. It was raspy, shallow, like someone struggling. I turned over and saw a shape standing at the foot of my bed. It was small. Like a girl. But her head tilted all the way to the side—too far, like her neck had snapped. Her arms hung long and stiff. And her eyes were gone. She whispered: “Thank you for listening. Now I can come out.” I blinked—and she was gone. But the closet door was wide open. 9. Leaving the House That was the last night I slept there. My parents finally believed me when my mom saw scratch marks on the inside of my closet door—too high up for me to reach. We moved out that month. Later, I heard the new family who moved in didn’t stay long. The kid there kept screaming about a girl under the bed who said she had new skin now. 10. If You Ever Hear a Knock… If you ever move into a new house and hear knocking at night… If the knocks come from under the bed… If the voice is sweet, or scared, or polite… Don’t answer. Because it’s not a little girl. Not anymore. The Girl Under the Bed Some things stay buried. But if you listen long enough… they’ll find their way back out.
By Silas Blackwoodabout a year ago in Horror
The Silence Beneath Europa
In the final months of 2099, the Nautilus-12 descended through Europa’s frozen crust, part of a historic mission to explore the ocean beneath the Jovian moon. NASA and the Global Exploration Authority had invested decades into making the mission possible. The stakes were enormous.
By Razu Islam – Lifestyle & Futuristic Writerabout a year ago in Horror
Don’t Answer When They Knock
Let me tell you something that happened to me this year—May 2025, to be exact. It’s one of those stories people might not believe, but I swear on everything: If you hear a knock late at night, and no one is supposed to be there—do not answer. Especially if they knock three times. 1. Moving Into the Wrong House I moved into a new place earlier this year. It was a small rental house, just outside town. Cheap, quiet, and old, but cozy. I was excited to have a space of my own. The landlord seemed nice but a little nervous when he gave me the keys. He said, “You’ll like it here—just ignore anything weird. Houses make sounds.” I thought it was a joke. It wasn’t. 2. The First Knock The first time it happened, I had just finished unpacking. It was around 12:30 a.m., and I was watching Netflix on the couch when I heard a knock at the front door. Just three knocks. Knock. Knock. Knock. I paused the TV. Opened the curtain. No one. I figured it was some prank—maybe a kid playing ding-dong ditch. But then it happened again the next night. Same time. Same number of knocks. Knock. Knock. Knock. I opened the door immediately. No one. But this time, I felt… watched. The air felt cold, like something was just there, outside the edge of the porch light. 3. My Friend Didn’t Believe Me I told my best friend Mia about it. She laughed and said maybe I was just jumpy. “Old houses creak,” she said. “You’re just getting used to the sounds.” So, we stayed up together one night on FaceTime. Right around 12:30 a.m., it happened again. Knock. Knock. Knock. I looked at my screen. Mia was frozen, staring wide-eyed. “You heard that too, right?” I whispered. She nodded slowly. “Don’t open it.” I didn’t. That night, I pushed a chair under the doorknob and tried to sleep. 4. They Started Saying My Name On the third night, the knocking didn’t stop at three. It happened at 12:30, again. Knock. Knock. Knock. But then came a voice. A low, raspy whisper from the other side of the door. “Let me in… please…” I couldn’t move. My entire body froze. Then it said my name. “Trevor… let me in.” I didn’t tell anyone that part. It sounded too crazy. But I know what I heard. 5. The Voice in the Window The house has this tiny window next to the door—just a narrow strip of glass. I covered it with cardboard the next day. But that night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay in bed, staring at the hallway. Then I heard the knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. And the voice again. “Let me in, Trevor…” I stayed frozen. Then the whisper came from inside the house. “Please.” I jumped out of bed and turned on every light. Nothing was there. The door was still locked. The cardboard was still on the window. But the voice didn’t come from the door that time. It came from my bedroom vent. 6. The Landlord’s Warning I finally called the landlord the next morning. When I told him everything, there was a long pause. Then he said, “I thought… maybe it was over. You heard the knocks?” I said yes. He sighed. “They come in threes. Always threes. You didn’t open the door, did you?” “No.” “Good. Never open it. Never talk back. Never answer.” I asked what it was. He just said, “No one knows. It started with the first family who lived there. Only one survived.” I wanted to move out. He told me I’d be safe as long as I followed the rules. 7. I Broke the Rule I was doing okay. For about a week, there were no knocks. I thought maybe it was gone. Then one night, I heard it again. Knock. Knock. Knock. But this time, the voice sounded… sad. “I’m cold. I’m lost. Please…” And like an idiot, I said, “Go away.” That was enough. 8. Something Got In I didn’t open the door. I didn’t unlock it. But the next night, the knocking came from inside the house. First the front door. Then the bedroom closet. Then under the kitchen sink. Each time—three knocks. Knock. Knock. Knock. And the whisper grew clearer. “You talked to me. That’s enough.” 9. The Mirror The final night, I saw it. I was brushing my teeth, trying not to look in the mirror. But I did. Behind me, just over my shoulder, was a figure—tall, thin, all shadow. No face. Just a mouth full of teeth that didn’t move when it spoke. “Now I’m in.” I dropped everything and ran. 10. I Don’t Live There Anymore I don’t know how I escaped, but I left that house within the hour. The landlord didn’t even ask for the keys back. I live in a new place now. Nothing strange has happened since. But every now and then, around 12:30 a.m., I get chills. And sometimes… I swear I hear three knocks in the distance. Don’t Answer When They Knock If something knocks at your door past midnight, don’t answer. Don’t speak. Don’t even listen. Because once you do—there’s no going back.
By Silas Blackwoodabout a year ago in Horror
The Reflection
This pier was not one I recognized. It jutted out into a black sea I had no memory of, yet I stood there as if summoned. The boards beneath my boots groaned with age. The air, slick with cold mist that never settled, clung to everything. Wetness shimmered on everything – the air, the railing, even the sky. The salt stuck in my lungs like regret.
By ND Harshbargerabout a year ago in Horror
