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.
Insanus
Chapter 1: The Mass-Graven Reaper It was colder than usual on the day when Malcolm decided to get back into his career. He had just gotten off from a personal vacation, one taken his wife and children in tow, and was getting back into the swing of things, what with the untimely nature of his job.
By Jacob DeTovar4 years ago in Horror
Pipes
"Eliot to base, can you hear me?" After a few seconds the walkie talkie sounded off and a woman's voice spoke. "Roger Eli, we're getting you loud and clear. How are your visuals?" I reached up and turned on my head lamp. It illuminated the small room around me. It was the service tunnel entrance to the sewer piping. Ahead of me was a huge pipe, just big enough for me to crouch through. Several pipes hung on the wall leading from the entrance down into the large pipe. Water dripped down from the roof of the pipe into a knee high river, and the tunnel continued as far as I could see. "It's manageable, I have a flashlight I can use to increase visibility if needed." "Roger, report back what you find." This time it was a man's voice, my boss's. I hooked my radio to my belt and approached the barely human sized pipe. It would be a tight squeeze but I could make it through. I lowered my legs into the liquid and tried not to think about what was in it. As my feet hit the squishy bottom I tried to think about why I was doing this. "I really hope my boots keep my feet dry..."
By SilverSkys4 years ago in Horror
Childhood Insanity
The dark shielded her from whatever made the wet squelching sound. Down in the basement of her childhood home, the smell of mildew and rotting wood was potent. Her scraped knees were curled into her torso and she kept a hand pressed against her quivering lips. Her pale green eyes blinked back tears as she attempted to hide herself deeper behind some shelving near the basement stairs.
By Juniper Woodstone4 years ago in Horror
Tin Can Sam
I was a child of the late 80s, in a time when kids played on the streets till the street lights came on, and riding your bike through town was as normal as going to the corner store to buy your mom smokes. In fact, the woods seemed to be the only place my dad specifically said was off-limits. The woods seemed to be a boundary for many families, and I never knew anyone who went there willingly.
By Joshua Campbell4 years ago in Horror
The Cowfield
Timothy Montgomery Born September 2, 2043 Died October 13, 2054 “Muuhhhhhhhhh!” I always screamed so pathetically in my last days. I spent the last few years of my life that way – mooing and shrieking like some sort of domesticated, bovine ape. I knew the cow fields bordering Abry were dangerous – my mother had always made me well aware of that – but I couldn’t help running around out there, in those open spaces. I had to get away from the smog – the muggy, toxic goop of that unnaturally shifting city. The relatively big sky allowed me to breathe; my chest contracted and retracted with pleasure when I was there, as if at least relieved.
By Robert Pettus4 years ago in Horror
MR.Violence: Dracula The FINALE
DRACULA GETS UP FROM HIS SEAT AND SAYS IF YOU KNEW THIS WAS A TRAP WHY DID YOU COME ANYWAY. RAPHAEL SAYS I AM VERY CURIOUS ABOUT YOU AND I WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH ARE YOU A VAMPIRE OR ARE YOU JUST A MAN WHO JUST LOVES KILLING WOMEN AND CHILDREN EITHER WAY BROTHER YOU ARE GOING DOWN. DRACULA SAYS ME AND VIKTOR THE MAN THAT WAS HIRED TO COME HERE TO DO THE SAME THING HOW DOES THAT MAKE YOU FEEL THAT YOU WORKING FOR THE SAME MAN WHO THE DOES THE SAME AS ME? RAPHAEL SAYS AFTER I DEAL WITH YOU HE IS NEXT! DRACULA SAYS YOU AREN’T LEAVING THIS ROOM. I AM THE FEAR THAT IS ACCUSTOMED TO AND I AM THE REASON THAT YOU LOCK YOUR DOORS AND WINDOWS.
By Victor Robinson II4 years ago in Horror
A Sunday Stroll
Hatham thought he must be the only man in town to notice the streets grew emptier each day. As he walked along, his grandson’s hand in his, he did not wonder why. He already knew. It was the way of things: kids grew up and left the nest, running off to the city to live in luxury. His own daughter had married local; he’d always regretted that for her. She should have moved off somewhere. Kingsport, or Roanoke. Or even Wytheville would have been enough. This town had no future, and Hatham would know.
By Hunter Wilson4 years ago in Horror
