fiction
Horror fiction that delivers on its promise to scare, startle, frighten and unsettle. These stories are fake, but the shivers down your spine won't be.
The Last Letter from Kandahar
The desert does not forget. The sand of Kandahar has soaked in centuries of blood, sweat, and silence. Each grain holds stories — of warriors, victims, and men who stood their ground when it mattered most. Among them lies the memory of Sergeant Faraz Malik, whose final act of bravery became more than just a tale — it became a legacy.
By Wings of Time about a year ago in Horror
The House That Remembers
It was Nora’s brother’s idea to visit the old Whitmore house. They were both city-born, but their late grandmother had grown up in the rural valleys where the Whitmore estate sat—left to rot after its last owner supposedly vanished in the 1970s. Nora didn’t believe in ghosts, and Ben had a YouTube channel focused on “haunted expeditions.” He wanted the clickbait. She just wanted to get away from the noise of her life for a while.
By Atif khurshaidabout a year ago in Horror
Whispers in the Floorboards
It was supposed to be a restoration project. Eli and Marla Winslow had bought the derelict house on the edge of Briar Hollow for next to nothing. Newly married and full of ambition, they saw potential in the century-old Victorian with its ornate woodwork and wide, echoing halls. It was their dream home, a fixer-upper with history and character. The townspeople, however, gave them strange looks when they mentioned the address.
By Atif khurshaidabout a year ago in Horror
The River Waits for the Quiet Ones
The One Who Never Spoke Much Luqman wasn’t the kind of kid anyone worried about. He was quiet — the kind of quiet that made adults say, “He’s such a good boy.” He didn’t run wild, didn’t break things, didn’t shout over others. He walked instead of ran, whispered instead of laughed, and watched the world like it might disappear if he blinked too fast.
By Echoes of Lifeabout a year ago in Horror
Ghost Dog in the Attic
When we first stepped into the weathered old farmhouse in Ravenwood Hollow, it smelled of age and secrets. Peeling wallpaper, uneven floorboards, and cobwebs in the corners told us stories long before the locals ever did. But rent was cheap, and Jenna fell in love with the place instantly. I was skeptical—but she said it had "character." I thought it had something else.
By Muhammad Saeedabout a year ago in Horror
Whispers in the Grain
The village of Blackreed was surrounded by endless farmland, its golden fields stretching to the horizon. It had been a good harvest year—too good. The wheat grew twice as tall, heavy and thick, but it came with a strange price: birds stopped flying over the village, dogs refused to enter the fields, and a low humming sound could be heard at night, like wind whispering secrets through the stalks.
By Muhammad Bilalabout a year ago in Horror
The Last Dead Body
The village of Greyhollow had been silent for months. Once brimming with the warm laughter of farmers and the clang of blacksmiths, it now lay buried under a thick quilt of ash and dust. The disease had come suddenly—Black Whisper, they called it. A shadow that slipped into lungs and hearts, leaving only stiff bodies and shattered homes. The world outside had forgotten Greyhollow, or perhaps chosen to forget. Roads were barricaded. No one came. No one left.
By Muhammad Bilalabout a year ago in Horror
