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How-tos for all things horror; tips and tricks to help you write like Stephen King, tell a scary story, keep the monsters at bay and more.
Why Did I Eat That Bug? A Night I’ll Never Forget
There are moments in life when a person makes decisions so bizarre that they themselves can’t explain it later. For me, that moment came when I stared at a giant beetle crawling across my wall, fork in hand, and thought: maybe I should eat it.
By Be The Bestabout a year ago in Horror
Why it Sucks To Be Born As a Ghost Shark
The ocean is filled with mysterious creatures, from the colorful clownfish to the intimidating great white shark. But deep below the waves, in the cold and dark depths, lives one of the strangest fish you’ll ever hear about—the ghost shark, also called a chimaera. At first, its name sounds cool, like something out of a spooky sea legend. But the truth is, life as a ghost shark is not glamorous at all.
By Be The Bestabout a year ago in Horror
Why It Sucks to Be Born as a Giant Anaconda
When most people think of giant anacondas, they imagine a terrifying apex predator, lurking in murky swamps, ready to crush anything in its path. Movies and myths have made these snakes look like invincible monsters, but the reality of their lives is far from glamorous.
By Be The Bestabout a year ago in Horror
Whispers in the Walls. AI-Generated.
The Old House Aisha had always loved abandoned places. Something about peeling wallpaper and creaking floorboards called to her curiosity. So, when her cousin dared her to spend a single night in the long-abandoned Al-Faris house at the edge of town, she accepted without hesitation.
By shakir hamidabout a year ago in Horror
The Library of the Last Move. AI-Generated.
The Library of the Last Move Hidden beneath the ruins of Blackhill Abbey was a place that shouldn’t exist—a library never cataloged by man, a sanctum of silence built entirely from forgotten knowledge. Legend whispered that it was constructed by a secretive order known only as the Silent Gambit, whose obsession wasn’t with power or wealth—but strategy, the perfect move, and the perfect end.
By shakir hamidabout a year ago in Horror
Shadows in the Attic
Shadows in the Attic Elena did not mean that people spoke about them, and she never believed in ghosts. Certainly, she had heard stories, doors, flickering lights, cold spots that people claimed were caused by spirits. But she knew well. The world was full of science, logic and reasons. Despite this, she attended something about the old house.
By shafiul siamabout a year ago in Horror
The Bug That Touched Back
It started as an ordinary Sunday morning. I had plans—simple ones. Coffee, a hot shower, maybe finally cleaning out the cabinet under the sink where I was sure a civilization of dust bunnies had established democracy. Nothing extraordinary.
By Be The Bestabout a year ago in Horror
Why It Sucks to Be Born as a Leopard
When most people think of leopards, they imagine sleek, powerful predators—beautiful spotted coats glinting under the sun, moving through forests with silent grace, embodying the raw majesty of the wild. On the surface, a leopard’s life seems enviable: fast, strong, deadly.
By Be The Bestabout a year ago in Horror
The Phone That Shouldn’t Ring
M Mehran After her grandmother’s funeral, Nida inherited the old farmhouse at the edge of town. The place was filled with relics—dusty furniture, cracked photographs, and one object that didn’t belong: a heavy, black rotary phone sitting on the hallway table. Her grandmother had lived without electricity for years. There were no lines, no service, no reason for a phone to even work. So when it rang that first night, Nida froze. --- Chapter Two: The First Call The sound was harsh, metallic, echoing through the empty house. Hands trembling, she lifted the receiver. “Hello?” Silence. Then a faint hiss. She was about to hang up when a voice whispered: You came back. Her skin prickled. “Who is this?” But the line went dead. --- Chapter Three: The Photographs The next day, Nida explored the attic. She found a box of photographs—most black-and-white portraits of her grandmother as a young woman. In each one, there was a man standing in the background. His face was blurry, his eyes always on her. When Nida flipped the last photo over, words scrawled in shaky handwriting read: Don’t answer the phone. Her blood ran cold. --- Chapter Four: The Second Call That night, the phone rang again. Against every instinct, she picked it up. “Why did you leave me?” the voice rasped. “I waited.” “I don’t know who you are,” she said, her voice shaking. The whisper grew harsher, more urgent. Look in the mirror. Before she could respond, the line went dead again. --- Chapter Five: The Mirror In the upstairs hallway hung an old mirror. She approached slowly, her flashlight shaking. At first, it was only her reflection. But then, behind her, a man appeared—thin, pale, with eyes like hollow pits. She spun around. The hallway was empty. When she turned back, the mirror was cracked down the middle. --- Chapter Six: The Journal Digging through her grandmother’s chest, Nida found a worn leather journal. Pages detailed strange events: late-night phone calls, whispers, warnings. Her grandmother wrote of a man she had once loved, who had died young under violent circumstances. He doesn’t forgive me, one entry read. He wants me with him. The phone is his voice. Nida slammed the book shut, heart racing. --- Chapter Seven: The Third Call The phone rang at 3 a.m. this time, louder than ever. She almost didn’t answer. Almost. “Hello?” The voice growled: I’m closer now. She dropped the receiver, but the whisper continued—seeping from the phone’s mouthpiece, crawling into the room itself. The mirror upstairs shattered with a deafening crack. --- Chapter Eight: The Arrival Every lightbulb in the house flickered, then burst. The air grew heavy, suffocating. From the hallway, the rotary phone began to ring and ring, faster, shriller, until it became a single unbroken scream of sound. Nida clamped her hands over her ears. The journal slid off the table, pages flipping on their own until it stopped at the final entry: If you answer the third call… he comes through. She looked up. The man from the photographs was standing in the doorway. --- Chapter Nine: The Last Call The phone fell silent. The figure’s grin stretched impossibly wide as he stepped closer. “You shouldn’t have answered,” he whispered, his voice exactly like the one from the line. The last thing Nida saw was his hand reaching for hers, ice-cold, pulling her into the darkness. --- Epilogue: The New Ring The next morning, a neighbor came to check on her. The house was quiet, the hallway table empty. No journal. No Nida. But on the porch, a black rotary phone sat waiting. And when the neighbor touched it, it rang.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a year ago in Horror
