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 False Reflection
There was only one rule...don't open the door. How many times had I heard this? Just because someone is knocking does not mean you let them in. In the urban dwellings where I grew up, with my parents always working, I never opened the door. I spent my childhood looking through peepholes at hooded figures and strangers.
By Jennifer L Osborne2 years ago in Horror
Mia Cara
There was only one rule: don’t open the door. Carrie understood that rule when her mother disappeared. Now, five years later, it made no sense. Her father told Carrie they would open the room when her mother returned. Now Carrie knew it was all lies: he never intended to open the door. Her mother was never coming home, and her father was going to marry that nasty woman. She ran upstairs to the locked door when they told her.
By C Jyl Parker2 years ago in Horror
There was only one rule: Don't open the door
Author: Dream Books Sanjeevi "Too much curiosity is like a fire; the person who stokes that fire too much ends up getting burnt." “Abarth was right: perhaps it is better a locked door can keep secrets, but it also keeps the danger away.” "It is a proverb to say that when the wind blows, people should stay at home. Fools seek the storm." “Even if you seek knowledge, do not wake; a serpent concealed in the grass.” "The eyes that seek justice must be willing to live in the shadows." “It might be a general law actually that any wrong step forward can lead a man straight into the abysm.”
By Sanjeevi Kandasamy2 years ago in Horror
The Light At The End
I've never been a fan of tunnels. Going underground just seems so unnatural, like we're entering God's green earth instead of living on the surface of it (like we're supposed to!). It just creeps me out, I can't put my finger on why exactly. Perhaps it's the severe lack of sunlight, or the dingy atmosphere which comes with subway stations. The dim lights that flicker as diesel trains race past, that always unsettled me. The way the ground beneath our feet rumbles as the steam engines charge through the dark tunnels between stops, or how the ceiling above you quakes from traffic just above your head. It is simply eerie. I can never wait to get out of those hideous dungeons. What's worse, is the people that dwell in these dark undergrounds. You'll always see thugs on the subway trains or gathering around the waiting areas, as if these dark souls are attracted to such dark places. It always seems there is trouble in the most ugly of locations. Where darkness comes, trouble follows. Sometimes I've seen hooded figures under dark tunnels, perhaps walking to work or back home, I've had to travel right past these shady beings, keeping my head down to avoid any eye contact. For the longest time, I had been spared any hardship from these potential muggers, yet the threat always scared me. The sight of a shining blade of silver in the darkness is something I am sadly all too familiar with. It was on a particularly dark and stormy night, after the worst shift I ever worked, that I slumped home in the pouring, heavy rain, with thunder and lightning roaring in the background. I could've walked round the long dark tunnel ahead of me, traveled up hill on the surface of earth, where traffic passing by could see me clear as day, but I was glad to get shelter. You see, the rain was making me cold, it was agony against my skin, drenching my clothes completely in ice cold water. I had to get somewhere dry, even if it meant facing one of my most unsettling phobias. So, I entered the darkness ahead of me, it felt warmer underground than being outside, but still breezy. The walls of this tunnel were painted with grotesque graffiti, full of swear words and crude imagery! This gangster art was already making me feel anxious. I half expected to see hoodies with spray cans, aimed directly at my face, as I passed by in the dark. I convinced myself I was being ridiculous, so I continued to walk further into the dark, even though my whole body screamed for me to return back and face the rain above. I swallowed my fears instead and chose to flick the torch on my mobile phone on, to light my way forwards. There, at the very end of this long and narrow tunnel, was the exit, shining ever so dimly, far far away. I knew it was going to be a long and agonising walk, perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. Yet, I wanted to face my irrational fears, to prove to myself that I was just being paranoid and letting my silly phobia get the better of me, so I stepped forwards, further and further into the underground tunnel, until I could no longer hear the rain, thunder or lightning behind me, only the sound of my footsteps. Crunch, crunch, crunch, the autumn leaves beneath my feet said. That was all I could hear, that and the echoes which bounced off my footsteps. The silence was deadly, I could feel my heartbeat race so strongly, it was like I could hear it. Beat, beat! I breathed heavily, condensation from my breath steamed upwards like smoke into the dark air. The longer I walked the more used to this isolation I became, it eventually became oddly cosy in a weird way, like I was entirely on my own in the darkness, where nobody could see or hurt me. I could strip naked and no one on earth would know (not that I'd want to in that cold weather), I started to sing, it made me feel less unsettled. My echoes sounded like a collective choir, singing right back at me. So I decided to amuse myself, yelling funny words and talking to my own responses. It was all fun and games until I heard the word; "help..." Echo right back at me, quietly under the much louder sounds of my own voice. I stopped suddenly, zipping my mouth shut. It couldn't have been another voice, I convinced myself it wasn't. That somewhere in my jumbled speeches, I said something that sounded like the word 'help' but it was just my own echoes remixing into a new alien sound. All I could hear was my own breathing. I looked behind me and the light from where I had come in from was just as dim as the one ahead of me, I was roughly halfway through this tunnel, with both exits being equally as far away. I felt trapped, stuck in the middle of this dark abyss. So I slowly crept forwards, my footsteps much quieter than ever before; I dared to venture further forwards into this darkness. I thought it would never end. Then, as I stepped closer forwards, towards the exit ahead that still stood at least eight minutes ahead of me, I saw a shining glint of silver, as if reflected from my mobile phone's light. I feared the worst; a knife in the dark, but I didn't want to believe it, I told myself it was just a glass bottle, smashed to pieces on the ground somewhere ahead of me. However the truth was something far worse. I turned off my torch light, as I could see the exit ahead of me clearly enough to travel forwards without the extra light. Suddenly the tunnel felt even longer than it did before, the darkness all consuming, the light at the end; seemed to shrink as the light on my phone died. I crept forwards even slower than ever before.
By Joseph Roy Wright2 years ago in Horror
This Weeks Rule
There was only one rule: don’t open the door. At least that was this week’s rule. Last week the rule was: only eat the red berries and the rule the week before was only walk on the even numbered side of the corridor. Every week our masters devised a new rule for us to follow and a new punishment to be administered if the latest rule was broken. Just to keep life as confusing as possible various old rules were randomly discarded only to be reinstated at a future time. There was only one rule that the master’s would never cancel. Under penalty of excruciating torture and death would anyone be allowed to open the door at the far end of the galley way.
By Mark Gagnon2 years ago in Horror
Exploring Agnostic Belief Systems in Horror: Echoes of Faith and Fear
Horror as a genre has long been a space where belief systems are tested against the unknown. In many tales, characters are confronted with supernatural forces, pushing them to rely on their cultural, religious, or personal beliefs to survive. But what happens when no single belief system triumphs over the darkness? Instead, every faith and legend seem to mirror one another, offering both no answer and all answers at once. This agnostic perspective on religion in horror provides a fascinating lens to explore the theme of uncertainty, where truth becomes a kaleidoscope of traditions and rituals.
By Samantha Almeida2 years ago in Horror
The Sound of Laughter. Top Story - October 2024.
There was only one rule: Don’t open the door. Randy was never one for following rules. From the time he was a child, he did things his way. He never thought about consequences or the personal wellbeing or property of others; he just laughed it off. Every time he got suspended; he laughed. When he got in trouble at home, he laughed. His parents were only too happy to kiss him goodbye when he moved out on his 18th birthday.
By Cathy holmes2 years ago in Horror
Life's Door
There was only one rule: don’t open the door. He remembered everything as he stood at the threshold of the cabin, remembered Alex’s face. His pleas for his lover to help him, to not leave him behind, haunted him. He'd hesitated approaching the door of the cabin they’d bought just after their wedding, and as the flames danced against the night sky — the beastly howl, Alex’s screams…
By Lizzy Rose2 years ago in Horror
