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.

Horror Fiction Movies
Horror fiction movies have always fascinated people. Whether it's the spine-chilling stories of haunted houses, ghosts, or monsters, these films are designed to scare us. But have you ever wondered if these fictional movies impact our real lives? Do the terrifying scenes stay with us after the movie ends, affecting how we think, feel, and behave?
By Mamoona Bushra2 years ago in Horror
Beyond the frost
The Arctic winds howled as the small group of sailors huddled around the flickering lantern on their ship, The Frostbite. The port town of Eldhaven seemed a world away, swallowed by the relentless expanse of ice that surrounded them. Their voyage to the North had begun as a quest for fortune—a hope of discovering uncharted land and untold riches buried beneath the frost. But now, as they drifted deeper into the white abyss, a prevailing fear gnawed at the edges of their camaraderie.
By Testimony 2 years ago in Horror
The Other
Somewhere beyond the little yellowed faces peering out from the wallpaper, are screaming souls. How do I know this? I put them there.
By Tom Baker2 years ago in Horror
The Sleepwalker
Megan had always been a sleepwalker. Her parents had grown used to finding her wandering around the house at night, eyes open but unseeing, doing strange things. One night, however, things took a darker turn.
By Moharif Yulianto2 years ago in Horror
The Changing Theme. AI-Generated.
Ryan had always been fascinated with technology. As a teenager living in a small town, he was known for being the go-to guy whenever someone had an issue with their gadgets. His room was cluttered with the latest devices, all in various stages of disassembly and repair. But none of those gadgets compared to the new smartphone he had just received—a prototype so advanced that it wasn’t even on the market yet.
By Kabildev2 years ago in Horror
Shadows of the Zambezi. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
The sun dipped low over the Zambezi River, casting long shadows that danced upon the water's surface. A warm breeze whispered through the tall grasses, carrying with it the rich scents of the African wilderness. Amara stood at the edge of the riverbank, her eyes tracing the horizon where the golden hues of sunset met the deep greens of the riverbanks. She was a zoologist from Lusaka, drawn back to her homeland by a project that promised adventure and the chance to make a difference: crocodile ranching in the heart of Zambia.
By Niski2 years ago in Horror
Lucy West
The undead stay damned. I want to make that clear before continuing. The undead stay damned. There is no redemption for us. I could live the life of a saint, but I still drink blood. There are no two ways about it. I am damned, and with that comes an eternally damned life.
By Amy Black2 years ago in Horror
All Alone. AI-Generated.
Emily had always been a quiet soul, preferring the company of books and her thoughts over the noise of the world. So when she inherited her grandmother’s old house in the countryside, she saw it as the perfect escape. The house, nestled deep within a dense forest, was a relic from a time long past, with creaky wooden floors and dusty, forgotten rooms. It was exactly what she needed—a place to be alone.
By Mahreen Farooq2 years ago in Horror
**"The Last Broadcast"**
In the small, quiet town of Waverly, nestled between dense woods and fog-covered hills, there was a radio station known as WVRL. For decades, it had been a local fixture, offering a mix of classic tunes, weather reports, and the occasional heartwarming story. But on one particularly cold October night, it would become the epicenter of something far more sinister.
By MD shezan Hossan2 years ago in Horror
Eldric Thornecroft
In a town forsaken by the sun’s embrace, Where shadows fell like a silken lace, There lived a girl with raven hair, Whose eyes reflected depths of despair. Her name was a murmur in the breath of night, A tale concealed from morning’s light. She wandered through streets that knew no dawn, Her presence felt but seldom seen, withdrawn. The house she called her place of rest, Stood lonely and cold, a spectral nest. Its windows, misted with eternal tears, Guarded secrets of forgotten years. Each night, she lit a solitary flame, To battle darkness in its cruel game. The flame flickered, casting dancing ghosts, On walls that whispered of lost, aching hosts. Her dreams were haunted by spectral forms, By faces pale as winter storms. Their voices sang a mournful cry, A melody that pierced the sky. One fateful eve, the wind began to howl, A lament that made the shadows scowl. She followed the mournful, eerie sound, To a place where no solace could be found. A graveyard lay beneath the sable sky, Where forgotten souls in silence lie. A figure stood amidst the ancient stones, A spectral man, with hollowed bones. "Come closer, child," he beckoned near, His voice a whisper of deep-seated fear. She took his hand, so cold, so frail, And ventured with him through the darkened vale. They wandered past the tombs of old, Where stories of the damned were told. The stars above began to wane, As they journeyed deeper through the pain. The moon, a witness to their stride, Guided them where shadows hide. They stopped before a weathered stone, Inscribed with names of lives unknown. Here lies the girl with raven hair, Her eyes shadows of despair. She knelt beside the mournful grave, A shroud of sadness she could not stave. For in this place of endless night, Her soul had long since taken flight. The man then spoke, his voice a chill, "Now you see the final thrill. This world was never meant to hold, The stories of the broken and the bold. Return to dust, embrace the gloom, And find your peace beyond the tomb." She closed her eyes, her heart so still, A final breath, a soul to fill. The wind grew still, the moon grew pale, As in the grave, her spirit frail. The town below, with whispers filled, Of the girl who in darkness, was stilled. Her tale became a haunting lore, Of the girl who lived and felt no more. Her name, a whisper in the breeze, A shadow dancing with the trees. In the echo of the moonlit grave, Her story lingers, dark and grave. For in the silence of the night, The girl with raven hair takes flight. Her soul adrift in shadows deep, Where dreams and darkness softly creep. Her name, a whisper, never clear, A tale of sorrow, forever near. And in the heart of that forsaken town, Where night’s embrace has settled down, The story of the girl with darkened hue, Forever lives in whispers, old yet new. Each moonlit night, her spirit roams, Through the spectral mist, she finds her home. In whispers soft and shadows cast, Her legend lives, and shadows last. For in the quiet, where darkness reigns, Her spirit wanders, free from chains.
By Sudarsan2 years ago in Horror
TRUDY. Content Warning.
"Trudy?" Trudy slightly opened her bedroom door. "Yes, mom?" "Breakfast is ready, sweetheart" "Okay mom, I'll be right there"
By Awfully Twisted2 years ago in Horror
The Game of Invisible Bonds
The "Bhooth Bungla" was a historic manor home in Shantipur, an ancient town where the past seemed to linger in every corner. The house was the focus of many local stories because of its tall spires and walls covered with ivy. The story of "Adrishyo Bondhoner Khela"—The Game of Invisible Bonds—was the most enigmatic, nevertheless.
By MD. RAFIQUL ISLAM MURAD 2 years ago in Horror