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.
Pilgrimage of the Wasteland
A man awoke in a dizzying haze on a hard, chalky, bleached white, ground and saw everything in a bright blur before his vision came back. He felt the hot sun beating down on him which was the only thing he could see that was wholly familiar. Everywhere else he looked was nothing but a vast rolling landscape of white that reflected the brightly burning light of the sun into his eyes.
Elijah TroubaPublished 6 years ago in HorrorGhosts of Christmas Present: 5 Chilling Tales to Keep You Up This Christmas. Pt 1
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house chilling stories I've gathered for you to be rattled but if you rather be startled and scattered with fright, stay tuned and read the next 5 stories Clause are surely ready to give you a frightened delight.
Rain- Screaming for HorrorPublished 6 years ago in HorrorInception
I couldn't take it anymore! The sounds and cries of my sister being tortured in the next room made me die over and over inside.
Sleep
I was woken up by light. I couldn’t see anything. All I could see was this white light around me. I was barely able to keep my eyes open. The light was so bright, it hurt my eyes. I had to keep them shielded.
Go Vegan
As a child I was always given meat. I had no control of what I would eat. My father would always have his steak on a Saturday, Mother would cook it in the frying pan for him and fill up the house with the smell. Years went by meat, meat, meat. Now in my second year of college, I met a girl. She was a Vegan; she hadn’t ever eaten meat or anything that had come from an animal. She loved all creatures, even bugs. What surprised me most was she was a fan of wasps. No one is a fan of wasps. This should have been the first sign that she was odd. She would tell me as we studied how meat was murder and how the smell of cooked meat made her sick to the stomach. Meat had never bothered me. I loved the smell of cooked bacon. The joys of getting a kebab from the take away after a night out from college was the best way to end the night.
Lawrence WaltersPublished 6 years ago in HorrorDreamer Chapter 4
The soldiers normally separate into two smaller teams, Josh, Eve, Max on one team and Nicole, Chris, and Joe on the other. However, this time they stayed as one group and headed onward. They would check out the city itself tomorrow but they wanted to secure and set up the base first.
Rebecca LarecePublished 6 years ago in HorrorBlink...Blink...Blink
Blink...Blink...Blink. It was a warm but almost pitch black night when Oscar saw it; a series of flashes, seeming to come from a single source across from his apartment window. At first he ignored it and just tried to enjoy the silence, but after a long while, the blinking had not ceased. He tried yelling at whoever was flashing him, but got the same blinks of light in response. After another minute or so of inspecting the blinks, he noticed they were appearing in a pattern. After a long series of spaced out flashes of light, there would be a two second pause and the series would repeat. After trying to decipher the code of blinks for about five minutes, he realized what it was. It was morse code! The only problem is that he didn’t speak, or in this context, read morse code. However, his phone did! Pulling the device out of his pocket, he read the time: 3:25 AM. After a quick search, he found a picture of the alphabet in morse. After the blinking once again began to repeat, he started translating. He had to frequently shift his view up and back down, as he hadn’t yet memorized the alphabet or the flashes. The first group of blinks: h, the second group of blinks: e, the third group of blinks: l, the fourth group of blinks: p, the fifth group: m. Before he could translate any further, the blinking stopped. He then heard a scream come from the source of the previously present flashing. Daggers, ripping through the blanket of silence which was previously resting over the street.
Patricia CooperPublished 6 years ago in HorrorKapurnikis
Kapurnikis was a humble and very well-known blacksmith, princes and men from all over Atreia came to buy his magnificent work that he has done day by day. He was the best metal worker in the land of Atreia; everyone wanted his amazing swords, his intricate armors, and his very useful daggers. Not only was he a well-known blacksmith, he was a fantastic hunter. The pelts he made were glorious, the cuts from the animals, always perfect and extremely tender. Kapurnikis was a very brave man, he rarely ever caved to anyone or anything, he was also very humble about his work, never let any ones thoughts mess with him or the work he knew was flawless, but on this day, it took one night of hunting to completely change his way of thinking, in a way, you could say it changed his life completely.
rhianna schumackerPublished 6 years ago in HorrorOblivious Olivia
Peering in through the window, I watched her. In all honesty, her life was rather boring. She was almost always alone when she wasn’t at work. In the two weeks that I had been following her, I’d only seen her actually go out to see people once. She didn’t even stay long. She was painfully pretty, though, I’ll give her that. I hoped she would put up a fight when I finally decided to kill her. I’ll find out soon.
Macabre
I hate this room. It’s drafty with dirty eggshell wallpaper and dark gray granite flooring. The lone rectangular window sits high on the outside wall, allowing only a tiny beam of sunlight. Sometimes I can see people walking. Thick white spider webs float in the corner by the door, some resisted underneath my desk. My rough cotton knitted blanket and brick-like pillow are the only things on my bed. I hear heels clicking down the hall before the echoes of my door unlock. The aroma of cleaning supplies quickly fills my 10x10 room as my door swings open. She walks into my room and immediately sits at my desk.
Ciara BazilePublished 6 years ago in HorrorRed Stains
The stains. On her sweater, her jeans. In her hair, on her hands, across her face. The deep redness smeared all over. Not all the stains came out today. I don’t know if they ever will.
Samantha De YarmanPublished 6 years ago in Horror- Top Story - December 2017
The Return of the Tell-Tale Heart...
I planned so carefully… so how can I be mad? How can you say that I’m mad when I am in perfect health with a steady hold on reality? Would a madman wait for seven nights, carefully planning? I think not. So when I say the old man’s heart was beating, haunting me, it must be so. Yet, here I am, sitting in a home for mad-men with shackles around my wrists. What was I to do though, let the beating of the old man’s dead heart slowly drive me mad? I cared for the old man but his eye… his vulture eye still haunts me to this very day. The psychiatrists try to compel me to admit I am mad, and that the beating was my own heart out of fear, but no! I do not believe such lies! The eye was a villain and the beating was its idea of revenge. But how I strategically cut the body up and hid it beneath the floor boards is something a madman would not do. Yet, I still sit here. I have daily meetings with psychiatrists who continuously just tell me I am mad. As I sit here and recall the events of my most recent appointment, I can hear the beating, like I do most days, faintly in the back of my head. As I walked into the office the chill hit me, and it reminded me of the tiring ways I waited outside the door of the old man’s room. The appointment went on calmly and I talked cheerfully, much like I did with the police the night I killed the man. Then it happened, he was there. I never thought it to be possible, but there was the old man with his vulture eye, and it was staring directly at me. At this point some might think I am off my rocker, but no! Would a madman kill so strategically?
Zoe VinaccoPublished 6 years ago in Horror