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.
"Whispers in the Dark: The Night of Uncertainty and the Enigmatic Stranger"
As the night grew darker, the three of us were making our way back from visiting a colleague at the hospital. The trio consisted of John, Sarah, and myself. While we were great friends, we also had our fair share of differences. Whenever we sat together, heated debates were almost inevitable, particularly between John and Sarah.
The Haunting of Hollow Manor
The wind howled through the desolate landscape, carrying with it the eerie whispers of a forgotten past. Hollow Manor, a decaying mansion nestled on the outskirts of a forgotten town, stood as a grim sentinel to a time long gone. Its shadowy silhouette seemed to clutch the secrets of its dark history, secrets that no one dared to unearth.
Echoes of Fear in the Whispering Forest
In the heart of a forgotten woodland, shrouded in mist and legend, stood the Whispering Forest—an eerily enchanting place where nature's secrets whispered through the air. It was a place both beguiling and unsettling, a place that dared those who entered to confront their deepest fears.
- Finalist in 2023 Vocal Writing Awards - Horror Fiction
The Lineman
Keith drifted up the mountainside and into the wilderness. There weren’t streetlights nor traffic of any kind; only the midnight moon offered a glow.
Zack GrahamPublished 8 months ago in Horror The Haunting of Hollowbrook Manor
Once upon a chilling October night, nestled deep within the dense, fog-draped forests of Hollowbrook, a forsaken manor stood tall and ominous. Its twisted, gnarled trees loomed like ancient sentinels guarding a sinister secret. No one dared approach it, for the whispers in the town spoke of unspeakable horrors that lurked within its shadowed walls.
Emerald Eyes of Fate
In the small, secluded town of Blackwood Hollow, nestled deep within the dense, whispering woods, lived a young woman named Eliza. She was known throughout the town for her ethereal beauty and gentle nature, but what intrigued the townsfolk the most was her peculiar ability to see into the future in her dreams.
Black Juju
From the journal of Jim Valance: Friday, February 4, 2022 To be an individual or a drone in the hive? Moral traditions and social conventions come and go over generations, but an individual only lives once.
C. Rommial ButlerPublished 8 months ago in HorrorThe High Cost of Living
Most of the members of the Oldtimers Club are gone by attrition, their ashes thrown to the wind and water, freed from their aches and woes. Only three of us remain. All in our 70s, we are more afraid of death as each year passes, but who isn’t? We avoid the end of the road by not thinking about it, by just traveling it in search of some small joy, beginning with waking another day. My sister, Ida Lupino, says it would be a joy if we enlist new old members. She decides we need a man to join our club, all the men have died, and so she finds Larry Sousa at the beach one day, dragging me there on a late afternoon to meet him. Our club has rules of course, not unfair but decidedly unconventional, and loyal members can’t be squeamish.
Lacy Loar-GruenlerPublished 8 months ago in HorrorThe Good Samaritan
Mercedes flashed her toothless grin at the officer. He offered a tight smile in return. They stood on her porch, across the street from what had been a discount store years ago. Now it was an overgrown lot filled with abandoned cars and dumpsters overflowing with trash. It was the nicest property for several blocks.
Nanette M. DayPublished 8 months ago in HorrorThe Well
There is a well that sits at the end of a dirt track behind our house. For as long as I can remember, it has always filled me with dread. Just one look at it and a cold shiver would run down my spine. My parents said it was all in my imagination, that it was irrational.
Paul StewartPublished 8 months ago in HorrorVanishing Point
Emily Roberts had always been drawn to stories that lay just beyond the surface, those tales hidden in the shadowy corners of small towns and whispered about in hushed tones. As an investigative journalist, she lived for the thrill of uncovering secrets, but she had never encountered a mystery quite like the one that awaited her in Crestwood, Colorado.
Konain AnjumPublished 8 months ago in HorrorTALES BY OVII
Just like every Saturday morning it was time to clean up the house and keep it tidy. Everyone was apportioned a section of the house to clean except the basement. Oyin was very much curious as to why the basement was always left out during the Saturday clean ups. This was a repeated act year after year and Oyin wasn’t sure why.
Chibueze VivianPublished 8 months ago in Horror