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.
A Christmas Horror Story: Four Terrifying Tales from Bailey Downs. AI-Generated.
In the quaint town of Bailey Downs, as the crisp December air carried the scent of pine and cinnamon, four chilling tales began to unfold on a Christmas Eve that would forever change the lives of those who experienced it.
By Don Stover2 years ago in Horror
The Cryptic Message That Changed Her Life
Starting a new job is very overwhelming-new faces, new responsibilities, and a whole new routine. Such was to be the exciting chapter for Emma Collins, fresh from graduate school. She had always dreamt of working in this tech company, which everyone referred to as AstraCorp-legendary in innovation and modernism at work. But just one week into her new role, something unexpected happened—a cryptic message appeared on her desk, and everything she thought she knew about her life and career was about to change.
By Usman Zafar2 years ago in Horror
Echoes of the Forgotten: The Cursed House That Whispers.
Echoes of Terror: The Cursed House That Wouldn't Let Go The house stood on the outskirts of town, silent, eerily so, and repelling passersby. The faded and cracked façade told tales of thousands of whispers and stories of shadows that seemed to move by themselves and of time seeming to stand still. It had been avoided for generations, always its sinister reputation preceding it. The locals called it "The Hollow Home," but no one could explain why those who entered rarely left unchanged.
By Dinesh Maurya2 years ago in Horror
19 Urban Legends to Creep You Out
999 phone charging myth. This legend originated in Britain. Supposedly, if your phone is low on battery, just dial 999 (or your own local emergency number) and hang up; your phone will then be charged. The British police have actually come out and said that this is very untrue, that it is strictly an urban legend. If your phone is really running low and about to die, just find a place to plug it in and wait a few minutes rather than calling the emergency line. Alexandria’s Genesis. This legend started to be passed off as “true” around 2005. It is a genetic mutation marked by purple eyes. Those who have it are apparently “perfect” humans. Beyond the eye color, those who have this mutation have extremely fair skin that doesn’t get sunburned, dark brown head hair but no other body hair, no menstrual cycle yet don’t suffer infertility, strong immune systems, don’t gain weight, always look five to ten years younger than their actual age, and a lifespan of 150 years. The very first person to allegedly have Alexandria’s Genesis was all the way back in 1329. The person was a woman from London named Alexandria Augustine. However, according to Snopes, the actual first occurrence and/or mention of this mutation was in Daria fanfiction from 1998. Buckley family. While the legend itself isn’t true, it isn’t out of the realm of possibility. As the story goes, Susan and John Buckley had planned a Halloween prank where they would chop off the head of a dummy. However, they changed their minds and decided to behead their own mother. When the deed was done, Susan and John took a picture with their decapitated mother before disappearing. The photo that is connected to the story started off as a regular family photo of two kids with their mother. Artist Edward Allen got his hands on it and turned it into an art piece titled “Midwestern Matricide.” Cropsey. This is a classic boogeyman story that is based on real life kidnapper and child killer Andre Rand. The legend circulated mainly in the 70s and 80s in Staten Island. The story says Cropsey was an escaped mental patient who would snatch kids off the street late at night. Occasionally he is described wielding an axe or a hook hand. Death Number 999-9999. The Thai legend states that if you call this number after midnight, you are able to wish for something. But this wish does come with a hefty price: your death. It is said that plenty of people have called and met their demise while others haven’t died at all. Although, many have not been able to make the call as they are too frightened to find out if they’ll really die or not. Elevator Game. This is a popular ritual legend that originated in South Korea. You have to go to a building with at least ten floors. You press the buttons in a certain order. At some point, a woman will enter the elevator with you, but you need to pay her absolutely no attention. At the end of the first journey, you will end up in an alternate universe. To get back home, you need to press the same exact buttons, just in the opposite order. Frozen Hill People. This urban legend dates back to the 1880s in Vermont. The US was facing a pretty intense storm, and Vermont wasn’t fairing well. A farming family, like many others that winter, were really struggling. In one version of the legend, the family found a way to make some of the older and infirm members of the family go into a hibernation to help with the dwindling food supply. A man by the name of Uncle William witnessed the group drug six family members - four men and two women. When the sex were unconscious, they were dragged outside so they could freeze up. Following this process, they were then buried for the next four months. When the hibernation was complete, these family members were warmed back up, seemingly unharmed by the winter. In the Air Tonight legend. Phil Collins released a song called In The Air Tonight in January 1981. Not long after, an urban legend began to build around it. People started saying that it was about a man drowning out at sea. Allegedly, Collins didn’t help because he simply couldn’t help as he wasn’t close enough to save the man. The singer denied the legend and rumors during a BBC World Service interview, stating that he was going through a divorce during the time he was writing it. Killer in the Backseat / High Beams. A woman is driving home from work, a party, a friend’s house, or just simply being out (depending on the version of the legend you read). She is being followed by a truck that keeps flashing their high beams. When she finally arrives home, the driver lets her know that there was a man in the backseat of her car and it seemed as if he was trying to kill her. Snopes claims that it may have been inspired by a similar real life case. In 1964, an escaped murderer hid in the backseat of a car and ended up being shot by the car’s owner (a police detective). Love Rollercoaster Scream. The legend revolves around the song Love Rollercoaster by the Ohio Players. There's a scream heard around the 1:24 mark on the single version and around the 2:32 mark. People have said that it's the scream of someone who was being murdered while the tape was rolling. However, the truth is more mundane than that. It is apparently the screech of Billy Beck, much like that of Mariah Carey when she goes an octave higher. Mowing Devil of Hertfordshire. A pamphlet from 1678 details the account of a farmer who seemed to have a visit from the Devil himself. The Hertfordshire farmer refused to pay the laborer for the duty of mowing the farmer's lawn. He even claimed that he'd rather have the Devil do it. That same night, it was reported that his lawn was up in flames. The next morning, the grass seemed perfectly cut. I personally couldn't find a “real” version of the story, but it wouldn’t be hard to believe that a fire did breakout somehow on a farmer’s lawn and a legend and/or rumors to start. Niles Canyon ghost. This is a variation on the vanishing hitchhiker urban legend. It is said that a young woman died in some kind of automobile accident on February 28th (year differing by story) and is seen walking around the area she died every February 28th. Whenever a driver stops to pick her up, this girl gives them an address across a bridge. Upon reaching the start of the bridge, the hitchhiker disappears. Red Room Curse. This Japanese legend revolves around a pop up on your computer. It starts with a red pop up with a question, roughly translated to, “Do you like | ?” When you close the window, it will pop up again and again until it reads (again roughly translated), “Do you like the red room?” The most common variation of the legend says that the screen will then turn completely red. The victim will feel a mysterious presence behind them before losing consciousness. Later on, they will be found dead in their room with the walls painted red with blood. Siren Head. A Canadian artist by the name of Trevor Henderson drew up a character that people eventually have claimed to see in real life. Siren Head is described as twelve feet tall, having a skeletal frame, covered in dried mummified flesh, and has skin the color of rusted metal. Its head is in the shape of a siren, of course. It can make various sounds, both natural and man-made such as sirens, radio broadcasts, white noise, and even human voices. Snuff Films. The legend of snuff films has been around since the 1970s. Supposedly, these are videos (which are meant to be profited off of) that show real murder. Victims are lured by the “filmmaker” under false pretenses before being, well, snuffed out. The “film” is then sold to buyers. There are beheading videos and other videos where you see someone die, but these are usually shown as propaganda or the murderers own gratification rather than for profit so they can’t be classified as snuff films. I couldn’t find any evidence of actual snuff movies, though that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. If they do, I do not recommend trying to find any. Mercritis. This legend originated in Mississippi. According to the legend, Mercritis is a disease that came over from Europe that ravaged the south. Men who suffered from the illness would emit an odor that, when inhaled, would cause women to go into a homicidal rage. Doveland, Wisconsin. The small town supposedly disappeared at some point in the 1990s. Although, there is not much evidence that Doveland has ever existed. That being said, there are people who claim that they have been there, even saying that they have various merchandise (shirts, mugs, etc) with ‘Doveland’ written on them. There are even some who have claimed that they had family living in the small town. Because there has been no mention of Doveland, Wisconsin before 2015 and only memories of some traveling to or through the town, it’s hard to prove that it ever actually existed. The babysitter and the man upstairs. There are many variations of this tale, but the one I’ve heard most often has been as follows: A girl, anywhere between 13 and 16, is hired to babysit two children. It is a relatively easy job as the kids are already out to bed, so the girl studies and/or watches television when the phone rings. “Have you checked the children?” the voice asked. The girl hangs up, but the phone rings again. So she calls the police and they tell her to try to keep the other person on the phone for 60 seconds so they can trace the call. As it turns out, the call was coming from inside the house. The story ends with either all three being killed or getting out safely before the person gets them. This story was turned into a movie called “When a Stranger Calls.” There was even a case where a babysitter was killed in the 1950s. Many people believe that this is where the legend began. Humans can lick too. A kid has a dog that he loves dearly, and every night the dog would sleep next to the kid’s bed and lick the boy’s hand. One night, the kid hears a dripping sound from the bathroom. He thinks it’s just the faucet but is still nervous. So he hangs his hand over the edge of his bed and feels calmer when he feels a lick. In the morning, the boy goes to the bathroom and is greeted by a horrific fright. He sees his dog hanging from the shower head with the words “Humans can lick too” written in what appears to be the dog’s own blood. The ending always varies, but the ending I grew up with was the one where the killer was never found.
By Micah James2 years ago in Horror
The Crooked Man. Content Warning.
In practice with routine, I lay still for some time in bed staring at the grey ceiling resting above me. Consistent as the demands of my hunger and thirst, my ceiling never changed. I often felt like I would never escape it, like I would look up each morning and my ceiling would be there, staring back at me. As it went these days, each time my eyes slipped open, I was greeted by the same cold light landing harshly in that ever-constant space above my head. In every sense, I felt like the ceiling trapped me, held me hostage in an uncomfortable box. I was caged somewhere I did not want to be. It was such an ugly ceiling too. My room was ugly. The faded mattress canvased much of the floor and in what little space remained sat a small black plastic chair and matching desk that jutted sharply into my empty closet. Apart from one small window, the cracking walls were bare. No photos or posters or letters decorated the space. Dark and lonely, my cage shaped the start to each of my days. Following standard procedure, I do my best to ignore my crude surroundings and the dull, constant ache that bother me each day, and manage to slip out of bed, allowing myself to quietly ebb back into the real world. The real world that somehow, I exist in. The real world that held the real people I brushed shoulders with each day. The real world that carried on each day, just like I carried on each day, a piece of the real world. Today was Tuesday, which meant very little to me beyond yesterday was Monday and tomorrow was Wednesday. Still, I made myself a cup of coffee and stomached a piece of toast and left my small apartment buried deep in the mess of the gothic downtown I had moved to so many years ago. Work would not need me for another hour so I began to walk. The city I lived in was large. The buildings populated by the masses of faceless men and women sat in a dark shadow, encased in industry. The edges of town held factories and smokestacks that towered over the lives of all of us. Rarely was one afforded a glimpse of something natural in this place and what little beauty did exist was often only found somewhere in the ugly. Perhaps I would find some today, a patch of flowers growing through the cracks of an abandoned shops broken floorboards, or maybe a child would smile at me despite being sat on the street next to her family, begging for food. Humanity and its rotten core had long ago shifted this space into something soulless, a past vision of the future. Presented as a utopia, our city had lasted all of the revolution, now finding itself full of all walks of life. A home for the wealthy and the poor, the healthy and the sick, the moral and the immoral, though I often felt like I only came to know the latter of each category. As I walked in form with the traffic of the others around me I thought of how I had always hated the morning, the constant of it, the things I could not change. The monotony granting others some sense of peace seemed to suffocate me and yet there was not a thing for me to do to escape it. The fear of losing touch with reality in the eye of the public kept me in check, from stepping out of line, from making any real change. And so, I continued on in the hours filled with light like everyone else, moving with them, breathing their air and tasting their food, all while feeling further from them and more disconnected than they could imagine.
By Read Zimmerman2 years ago in Horror
Ten Haunting Ghost Ship Mysteries That Defy Explanation
Who doesn’t love a spine-chilling mystery from the high seas? Ghost ships—vessels discovered adrift, crew missing, their fate unknown—stir our imagination like nothing else. These enigmatic tales invite us to wonder what might have transpired in the moments before doom struck, leaving behind only empty decks and unanswered questions.
By David Andrews2 years ago in Horror
My Devil. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
Demons Grant Wishes: The 10-Year Pact That Changes Lives Picture a young man standing at a crossroads. On one side, the thrill of gang life. On the other, a dark deal with a demon. Ten years later, he reflects on this choice, realizing how it shaped his existence. This story isn't just about a crime boss; it's about the supernatural bargain that transformed everything.
By Quyết Nguyễn2 years ago in Horror
Twisted Needs
Twisted Needs: When Pleasure Swallows You I remember the day she moved in. She looked like nothing special—a thin, mousy woman with a bob haircut and a drab blue-gray dress that cloaked her figure, if she had one at all. To my surprise, she stopped at the door of the vacant apartment right next to mine. I flashed a quick, polite smile, then slid inside my little sanctuary, hoping to avoid any involvement with a new neighbor. For the first few days, all was quiet next door, except for the occasional thud as she rearranged furniture. Soon, I’d practically forgotten she was there.
By Danny Bright Online2 years ago in Horror
Chudail Meera
After the events of the Demonic Traveler, Charan found himself haunted by recurring nightmares of his girlfriend's tragic death. The dreams were vivid and unrelenting, pulling him deeper into guilt and despair. Meanwhile, Bharath came across a peculiar case in the town of Tonida. A man named Sukumar had died under mysterious circumstances, his eyes practically melted. Curious and concerned, Bharath decided to investigate, dragging a reluctant Charan along.
By sai Charan2 years ago in Horror
Courage the Cowardly Dog: Timeless classic of animated horror-comedy
"Courage the Cowardly Dog" is this animated treasure hiding within television entertainment borders; it contains horror, comedy, and poignant stories. Created by John R. Dilworth, it initially aired in 1999 on Cartoon Network and quickly obtained cult status for its stylish presentation, as well as the creativity displayed in its storyline. However, although ending officially after a final episode in 2002, this series has become an icon of popular culture to this day, never losing importance to all ages involved.
By soman Goswami2 years ago in Horror
The Last Room
Clara had always been a practical person, rational to a fault. That’s why she had resisted for so long when her husband, Tom, had suggested moving to the old house in the countryside. It was too remote, too rundown. But after the sudden death of his father, Tom insisted they take the opportunity to "start fresh," away from the city and the weight of their grief. The house, a sprawling Victorian mansion, sat at the edge of a forest, its windows dark and seemingly lifeless. Clara hated it the moment they arrived. There was something off about the place, something oppressive that weighed on her chest every time she stepped inside. Still, she tried to make the best of it. Tom had grown up in this house, and now it was theirs. Slowly, she unpacked, arranging things just so. But every time she ventured upstairs, she was drawn to a room at the very end of the hallway—a room Tom had warned her never to enter. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Clara,” Tom had said, his voice distant, as though lost in thought. “But there are things in there. Things that... should stay where they are.” Clara was used to Tom’s oddities. He had always been secretive, particularly when it came to his family’s past. Still, she respected his wishes—at least for a while. But curiosity gnawed at her. It was inevitable. She had always wondered what was so special about the last room at the end of the hall, the one that remained locked. One rainy evening, while Tom was out of town on business, Clara found herself standing before that door. She hadn’t planned to go inside. Not really. But when her hand brushed against the cold brass handle, something in her mind shifted. The door was always locked, but this time, it opened with ease. She stepped inside. The room was small, barely furnished, but its atmosphere was thick with an unsettling presence. The air felt heavier in here, colder. A small, antique rocking chair sat in the corner, facing the wall. The wallpaper was peeling, faded to the color of ash. But what drew Clara’s attention was the old-fashioned crib in the center of the room, its white paint chipped and worn. Suddenly, Clara’s breath caught in her throat. There was something in the crib. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but now, her eyes locked on the shape—something dark and curled, as though lying in wait. She couldn’t make out any details, just the vague impression of something small, twisted, and unnatural. Against her better judgment, Clara walked closer. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She reached out a trembling hand and lifted the edge of the worn blanket. What she saw made her recoil in horror. The baby wasn’t a baby at all. It was a doll, a grotesque thing, its face contorted in a permanent scream. The eyes—black and glassy—seemed to follow her every move. Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind her with a deafening bang. Clara spun around, her pulse racing. She grabbed for the doorknob, but it was stuck, refusing to turn. Panic set in. “Tom?” she called, her voice trembling. There was no answer. The room began to feel smaller, the walls pressing in on her. The air was thick with something she couldn’t name—something ancient. Clara’s mind raced. The doll—the crib—something was wrong, horribly wrong, about all of it. Then she heard it. A soft, guttural whisper, coming from the shadows. It was too quiet to make out at first, but as the seconds ticked by, it became clearer, more distinct. “Stay with me…” Her body went rigid. She knew that voice. It was Tom’s. The door finally creaked open. Clara stumbled out of the room, gasping for air. She turned to look back, but the hallway was empty. The door to the room was gone. In its place, just a blank wall. Tom had come home just moments later. He was pale, his expression blank. He didn’t ask what she’d seen. He didn’t need to. “You shouldn’t have gone in there,” he whispered. “Now you’ll never leave.” As the days passed, Clara began to notice the changes. Her reflection in the mirror grew more and more distant, like she was slowly fading from existence. Every night, she’d hear whispers from the hallway—faint, indistinguishable murmurs that seemed to come from the last room. Then, one night, as Clara passed by the door that no longer existed, she felt the unmistakable pressure of a hand on her shoulder. “Stay with me…” the voice murmured again, this time from right behind her. She turned, but there was no one there. That was when Clara knew the truth. The house was alive, feeding on her fear, trapping her in its walls. It had claimed Tom, and now it wanted her. The last room was a prison, a place where souls went to disappear. And Clara never left.
By Jay Kavaya2 years ago in Horror
