art
Art that’s as dark as it is evocative; discover horror-inspired artwork, from twisted mutations of classic paintings, chilling sculptures, spooky photography and more.
The Real Story of Grandpa’s the Spirit, Parts 1 and 2
Mateja Klaric posted an invitation for participants in a writers’ group on LinkedIn to share anecdotes about the oddest things that have occurred to them. Well, I’ve seen a great deal of unusual things, but this has to be the only one that delves into the area of the paranormal. At the time it occurred, I accepted what I saw as a ghost; today, as a somewhat more skeptical adult, I maintain that I have no explanation for what I witnessed. In any case, it remains a really unique memory. Here’s the story:
By QuirkTales2 years ago in Horror
Shadows of the Family: A Secret That Will Never Die
My parents, as you might imagine, were not mere ordinary figures in this world. They were among those who walked in the shadows, wielding power and wealth with an unrelenting grip. Their canopies stretched like colossal trees, roots digging deep into the earth, branches blotting out the sun. And in their world, marriage was not a union of hearts but an alliance of interests, a transaction calculated with precision. This, my friend, would later prove to be of great significance.
By Pedro Wilson2 years ago in Horror
Beyond the Trees: The Unforgettable Whispers of the Forest
Do not venture into those woods after dark. It was one of those admonitions you grew up hearing, whispered by everyone in this town, as though it were a sacred truth passed down through generations. A warning etched into the very fabric of our childhoods, like the old tales of monsters under the bed or the dangers of swimming too soon after eating. Stories you eventually outgrew, realizing they were little more than tools to keep you safe, to keep you in line when you were too young to understand the world’s true dangers.
By Pedro Wilson2 years ago in Horror
The Nightly Reaping: When Shadows Come for Our Souls
I was but fifteen years old when my father and I sought refuge in that ancient trailer nestled deep within the valley. It was a wretched place, barely functional, where the bathroom doubled as the kitchen, and there was no shower to speak of. In the winter, the pipes would freeze, and the tiny room we shared was scarcely warmed by a feeble space heater.
By Pedro Wilson2 years ago in Horror
The Shadow of Adeline: A Journey Between Love, Death, and Memories That Never Die
The girl in the graveyard is your dearest companion, and thus, you bear her homeward. The night lies between you like a bruise, a stain of crimson in the window of the passenger seat—a hue akin to fruit left to fester and decay. Her fingers, cold and lifeless, fumble with the seatbelt—one, then two.
By Pedro Wilson2 years ago in Horror
The Claw Machine. Top Story - January 2025.
She was passed out with a little black book beside her, when little Joseph decided to run away from home that day and go to the carnival. He tugged and tugged on mom's arms but nothing would wake her. Nothing at all. Feeling the anger in him well up he stomped and growled and said mother from a low aching voice that ached within his belly. Mother had been tired for days and she promised him they would go today because it was the last day and if they didn't go today the carnival wouldn't come back for a whole nother year! "MOM!" Why wouldn't she just get up? He kicked the beige sofa with his bare foot immediately feeling his foot radiating with an aching pain. "Darnit Martha!" Little Joseph mimicked his father, who had now been gone for thirteen days. The water had been off for one week and the lights had been off for two not that anybody was counting little Joseph would overhear his mom tell his aunt Lucinda. It was July and the big room was hot. Joseph shook his head. He wished something, anything was back to the way it was. He wanted his dad back. His mom didn't seem like she was there either. He wanted to eat something besides noodles. Nothing seemed fair right now. He spied some crumpled up dollar bills under the sofa where his mom was still sleeping, a few quarters too. Joseph wasn't really mad at his mom; he just wanted to get out of the house. He knew the way. He could go come back and she probably wouldn't even wake up by then.
By L.K. Rolan2 years ago in Horror
Who Was It?
It's very late at this point. A scary quietness. Outside, the nonstop cry of cicadas repeats sadly. The climate feels weighty and severe. All of a sudden, a tempest or downpour could begin. Prior to hitting the sack, Asad has made a propensity for perusing for some time. Very much like some other day, he was perusing *Bankim's Kopal Kundola* (quite possibly of the earliest heartfelt novel in Bengali writing) when his eyes had unconsciously shut. Unexpectedly, a startling sound woke up him from his daze. His look moved to the typhoon light. The wick had become very dark, and the light was glimmering though no one can easily explain why. Outside, the breeze was yelling uproariously. Asad couldn't sort out the reason for the flashing, yet the breeze's power had definitely expanded, alongside a periodic lightning and thunder. The weather conditions felt like the beginning of the storm — warm, with the mists building, however the precipitation was light. The indications of an adjustment of the weather conditions were clear.
By S.M. Shamim Ahmed2 years ago in Horror
The Daredevil of Hollywood: How Tom Cruise Pulled Off the Burj Khalifa Stunt
When it comes to redefining action cinema, Tom Cruise has carved a niche so daring that it borders on legendary. From clinging to planes mid-takeoff to racing motorcycles through explosions, Cruise’s appetite for adrenaline seems insatiable. Yet, among all his jaw-dropping feats, one stands tall—literally—his iconic Burj Khalifa stunt in Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol.
By mureed hussain2 years ago in Horror
Shadows in the Mist
The fog hung thick over the small coastal town, a veil of mystery that turned the mundane into the otherworldly. It wasn’t unusual for fog to descend in the early mornings or late evenings, but this was different. It came uninvited, lingering longer than it should, wrapping itself around buildings and creeping into every corner of the town. People whispered about it in hushed tones, their words swallowed by the mist as if it, too, were listening.
By Kamran Sunan2 years ago in Horror
