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.

Abduction
I was sitting in my room, or cell, if you really want my opinion, writing in my journal. It was hard to write with the rubber ink pens the ward provided. Equally as hard, was writing anything involving any length. They are, after all, only four-inch pens so handwriting the Dead Sea Scrolls or telling my memoirs was an impossible goal to achieve. I could, however, I could write to myself or in the journal the ward provided all of the patients. This was my morning routine. Well, it would be my routine, after I do it for a while. I started working on this plan to fill my days while I suffered through the boredom of the weekend, anxiously awaiting my Monday session.
By Jason Morton6 years ago in Horror
Without Honour
It was a dim and peaceful night at the Adams household. Mrs and Mr Adams were indulging in their hobbies of handcrafting. Their sixteen-year-old son, Ace, was in his room reading an audiobook about a detective skeleton and magic. His brother, older by seven years, Link was working on a project for his next single and their ten-year-old sister was playing with the family cats, Rika and Cheetah. The children’s rooms were upstairs, the brothers having the rooms right in front of the stairs next to each other, and Freya’s on the right side of Ace’s room; with the bathroom left on the left side of Link’s room. Downstairs was the Living Room which connected to the dining room and the kitchen. The kitchen was narrow and spacious at the same time. The door, however, was a sliding one that took quite some effort to open. Once opened, the front door can be seen facing the kitchen. The house has a driveway, and the light detects motion in front of it and turns on, so it was odd to have it happen at 11 pm on a Saturday. The family was not expecting any visitors, so they thought it might’ve been a fox. Recently Mrs Adams put out a unique vase of the most beautiful and most magnificent golden flowers. Ace and Link had sarcastic comments about them at first but Freya spoke out everyone’s thoughts when she expressed her awe in them.
By XANJIN6 years ago in Horror
The Wilds
To read chapter 1 click here! With Layla and himself piled into the truck, Jasper drove them to the kill site. His half-eaten sandwich and fries were sitting on the center console of the truck, the mug of coffee jammed into a cupholder and surrounded by old coffee stains. He offered her some before grabbing a french fry, “It isn’t wolves. Maybe a grizzly bear…”
By Kelsey Reich6 years ago in Horror
The Phantom of Ulm Water
Ulm Water is the largest inland body of water in Stiltshire: a roughly kidney-shaped lake about three miles long by one and a half wide, surrounded by flat, uninhabited countryside for several miles in any direction. There are two substantial islands and several tiny islets, but in other parts the water is deep and impenetrable. It can be a disquieting place even by day to a solitary walker or angler and positively eerie at night when the moon lies low and casts long shadows from the gnarled willows at the water’s edge. But an atmosphere of utter foreboding hangs over the larger island.
By Tony Nunn6 years ago in Horror
Sisters
Boredom. It eats away at the brain like a fly on a carcass, alone in the desert. Devouring and salivating at the next morsel of energy it can find. Well, that’s at least how Eliza and Meghan saw boredom when waiting for their parents to get ready for an outing. Downstairs they sat in their old, creaky house of heritage which had been passed on as many times as a deadly pandemic. Quiet and lonely sat the house, with not a friend in the world, leaving it bitter and cold on the tip of a hill. Like an old spinster, the house now held secrets and stories unwilling to share with anyone, except the impressionable.
By Emily-Jo Davidson6 years ago in Horror
Savannah By Moonlight
Chapter one The case of the murdered debutante Just after sunrise on a sweltering Tuesday morning, Will Caskey was walking his dog down a dirt path not far from his home just off of Highway 17 outside of Savannah, Georgia. Will’s dog, Pepper, began to act strangely. The normally playful dog was cowering behind Will. Will scanned the area and felt his own sense of dread as he heard a buzzing that could only be the sound of thousands of flies just yards away in the thick brush. That is when the smell hit him. It was the gag-inducing scent of death.
By Christopher Soucy6 years ago in Horror
Black Ink
BLACK INK How much is one life worth? I used to question this until the day I discovered that no two lives are worth the same. The day the little black book appeared on my front step and I opened to the first page to read the instructions, the very instructions that would cost me my humility, I found just how valuable some lives could be. The book promised me that for every life I took that appeared on it’s pages I would be rewarded generously. To this day that promise has been kept.
By Daniel Barlow6 years ago in Horror
Jack's Windfall 6
Jack drove to the next cemetery, his thoughts contemplating the woman who had been tailing him. Not only did she discover him, but his true name as well. As the Shaman of the City, he should have been protected by a spell of anonymity. He went by Jack for many reasons, least of all the frustration of teaching people how to pronounce “Javier.” But in magic, names have value. A spirit could have influence on him, and if it was powerful enough could even bind him. Going over his conversation with her, he was relieved that she didn’t press with his full name. He stared at the scars on his wrist. He could never trust another spirit with his name again.
By Pedro Rivera6 years ago in Horror
Wifey
Saturday night. The most lucrative night of the week and the easiest time for me to get what I needed while mostly staying under the radar. I would have to leave after tonight though. It was a small town and people were beginning to talk.
By Sara Wilson6 years ago in Horror
Ride the Lightning- Second Interview
The dinner was packed. Mr. Crome was waiting in a back booth when I arrived and waved me over as I came in. I had spent the last few weeks researching the prison, the same thing I had been doing for the previous year, but now it was with more of an eye towards strange occurrences. Stragview had its share of unnatural deaths and odd disappearances, but the prison seemed to be good at covering them up. I had been excited to talk with Cromes again, and his story had made me reach out to some others I had been hesitant to talk to. There was a real story here. I just had to put it together. I had wanted to speak to Cromes again that same week, but it had been almost two weeks since I had managed to get in touch with him. He sounded nervous when he spoke to me, unsure about our next meeting but sure that it had to happen.
By Joshua Campbell6 years ago in Horror
A Box of Night
London, 1992 “Wilding had a cottage on the highland moors. He was Scottish, you know, by pedigree, although he grew up mostly near London.” Sir Peregrine waved his cigar to indicate the city outside his comfortable West London club. “That’s where I last saw him, that cottage he called Mousefoot Farm. Wasn’t a farm, mind you. Just a patch of rather tangled garden snatched up against a stone house with a massive red deer rack over the door, and that wild, rugged land all about. Bit isolated and rough for a man with a dicky leg, I always thought. Never understood how the man’s wife could bear it out there, and I suppose she’d had enough of it, at that. When our gang were last assembled there, she’d come down to London to live in civilized style. Wilding, though, he was another story. He’d seen enough of the world of men.”
By Liz Zimmers6 years ago in Horror
I Spy
I needed the money. Desperately. College costs were mounting, and my parents couldn’t help me. A brother with cerebral palsy and one fighting in Vietnam kept them occupied elsewhere. When Mrs. Garrison called, stuck without a sitter, I jumped at the chance. Two small boys, Michael, five and Adam, two, were easy. A bath, ten minutes of “The Brady Bunch” and they would be out cold.
By Michael J Massey6 years ago in Horror