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 Destiny
I waited in the graveyard by the light of the full moon for him to rise. I hid my stake up my sleeve and armed my pockets with holy water. When he rose, he didn't see the cross around my neck as he sniffed me, desperate for the smell of fresh blood. I gave him a little time to savour the smell and feel the silky smoothness of my skin.
By Carol Ann Townend4 years ago in Horror
The Vampire
As Jane woke up, she realized that she was on a train - but she had no idea how she'd gotten there. The train was showing no signs of slowing down. She looked around, trying to get her bearings, but everything was a blur. The only thing she could make out was a dark figure in the corner of the car, watching her intently.
By Mashal Haroon4 years ago in Horror
The Lost Exam
Abby Morris was sobbing uncontrollably at her kitchen table. She was swiping pictures on her iPhone 11 with a feeling of helplessness and grief. There were old images of herself posing with another woman. She looked away from her phone as she tried to control her emotions.
By Leona Valentine4 years ago in Horror
Same Old Tracks
The jostling of a train can rouse the deepest sleeper and lull to sleep the most anxious window-watcher. Eyelids fluttering open and closed, feet tapping anxiously, pacing, kicking, waiting to be let off at the next stop. When in motion, the brain is sure to keep up with the body, so whether asleep or not, the mind will wander and flail. If a train must keep to its tracks, so must the mind keep to its body, or else the owner of both may be stripped of sanity, a spirit without a home.
By King O'Neill4 years ago in Horror
A Love Story Gone Wrong
"AAAAAGGGGHHHH!", she screamed extremely loud, when she saw the love of her life fucking the shit out of her sister in their bed. The bed they made their son in. The bed they laid up in and planned for the future. The bed they made together each morning and made love in every so often often.
By Ahnesia Johnson4 years ago in Horror
The Bottle Tree
It's been a rough couple of days at Grandpa's House. As summer creeps across the land, the rains have been heavier than usual this season. It seems like the grass needs cutting every weekend, and this weekend it looked more like hay than grass. It was my own fault. Grandpa and I have been busy with the Flea Market stall lately, and the house looks pretty shabby because of it. One Sunday morning, I took it upon myself to get the house and the yard in order.
By Joshua Campbell4 years ago in Horror
