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Monsters and horror go hand in hand; explore horrific creatures, beasts and hairy scaries like Freddy Krueger, Frankenstein and far beyond.
The Haunting of Willow Creek Manor
Chapter 1:The Inheritance Natalie had always thought old manors held a certain allure, but when she inherited Willow Creek Manor from her estranged great-uncle, the excitement was tinged with unease. Tucked away in the mist-shrouded hills of Vermont, the sprawling estate had a reputation for being haunted—a fact Natalie dismissed as local superstition.
By ABHISHEK SWAMI2 years ago in Horror
THE CLOCK MAKER'S LABYRINTH. Content Warning.
In a quaint village nestled amongst mist-shrouded hills, there lived a person by way of the call of Alden. He changed into a professional clock maker, known for the duration of the village for his intricate timepieces that regarded to whisper secrets of the past. Yet, under his craftsmanship and steady demeanor, Alden harbored a mystery that plagued him night after night time - a ordinary nightmare that unfolded like a twisted symphony in the depths of his subconscious.
By Jakir Hossain2 years ago in Horror
The Unquiet Spirit
Start writing...Rain lashed against the grimy windows of the old Victorian mansion, a mournful counterpoint to the guttural growls emanating from within. Sergeant Riley adjusted his raincoat, the damp clinging uncomfortably to his skin. This wasn't your standard domestic disturbance; this was an exorcism gone wrong. He stepped into the foyer, the air thick with the smell of burnt sage and fear. A teenage girl, barely out of her teens, huddled in a corner, her eyes wide and vacant. Beside her, a middle-aged man, sweat dripping down his face, nervously clutched a Bible. Father O'Connell, the exorcist, lay sprawled on the floor, his face contorted in a silent scream. "What happened here?" Riley demanded, his voice cutting through the tension. The teenage girl, Emily, whimpered. "It... it attacked him. Father O'Connell was trying to help me, but it just..." She trailed off, unable to articulate the horror she'd witnessed. Her father, Mr. Carter, choked out, "We called the police because... because the priest... well, he wasn't responding." Riley knelt beside O'Connell, checking for a pulse. Thankfully, the man was alive but unconscious. Glancing around the room, Riley noticed overturned furniture, a crucifix hanging askew on the wall, and strange symbols scrawled on the antique mirror. This was more than just a troubled teenager. "Have you called an ambulance?" Riley asked, his voice a touch sharper now. Mr. Carter mumbled something about "unholy forces" and how an ambulance wouldn't help. Riley sighed. He needed answers, and the last person he expected to find helpful was a self-proclaimed demon hunter. The Investigation Takes a Turn At the police station, Riley recounted the events to his partner, Detective Singh. Singh, a pragmatist who scoffed at the supernatural, raised an eyebrow. "An exorcism? Seriously, Riley? Sounds like some kind of elaborate prank." Riley frowned. "Maybe, but something went down. That priest looked genuinely terrified." Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a young intern, Sarah, who looked pale. "There's a man here claiming to be a demonologist. Says he can help with the Carter case." Riley rolled his eyes, but before he could protest, Singh was already ushering the man in. He was tall and gaunt, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He introduced himself as Alistair Crowe, a consultant on "paranormal phenomena." Crowe listened intently to Riley's account, then nodded gravely. "Sounds like you've encountered a malevolent entity. It must've been a powerful one to overpower a trained exorcist like Father O'Connell." Riley wasn't convinced, but Crowe's certainty was oddly reassuring. Crowe suggested they visit the Carter house again, armed with equipment to detect "spiritual disturbances." Riley reluctantly agreed. Back in the Mansion The second visit to the mansion was less chaotic. Father O'Connell had been taken to the hospital, and Mr. Carter seemed calmer. Crowe, however, was a whirlwind of activity, setting up strange devices that emitted a faint hum. "These electromagnetic field detectors," Crowe explained, "can sometimes pick up traces of paranormal activity." As they moved through the house, the detectors crackled and sputtered. Crowe pointed to a reading spiking off the charts in Emily's room. "This is concentrated. The entity seems to be most active around her." Riley noticed a worn diary on Emily's desk. He flipped through it, finding unsettling entries about nightmares and shadows whispering her name. He also found a newspaper clipping about the tragic death of Emily's younger brother, a boy named Michael. Suddenly, Singh let out a gasp. He had been examining the strange symbols on the mirror. "These symbols, they match the ones from the Carter's file. The ones found at the scene of Michael's accident." A cold dread settled in Riley's stomach. The pieces were falling into place. The Revelation They confronted the Carters. Mr. Carter broke down, revealing a devastating truth. Michael hadn't died accidentally. He had committed suicide, unable to cope with bullying. Mr. Carter, desperate for a way to bring him back, had dabbled in the occult, accidentally summoning a malevolent spirit instead. The spirit, unable to possess Michael, had latched onto the vulnerable Emily. The symbols were a desperate plea for the entity to return Michael. The Solution Crowe outlined a plan. He wouldn't be performing an exorcism, but rather a "cleansing." He would use rituals and prayers, not to banish the entity, but to guide it towards a peaceful release. The next night, the mansion became a stage for a bizarre ritual.
By Dabasish Pal2 years ago in Horror
The Hulking Beast With Broad Maw
Still in stillness coming still, nothing can keep it gone. Not any pill. No tricks or tips or routine will keep the Hulking Beast With Broad Maw from coming back. Always well past the witching hour, it comes in at 3 o’clock; slipping in during the hypnopompic state so there is no way to tell what is dreamscape and what is real.
By Chaia Levi2 years ago in Horror
Sleep No More. Content Warning.
Seagulls combated for scraps on the beach in the distance and distracted me from the pounding hammers on the new bleachers below my window. A wave of depression slapped me with the reality that I would never feel the wet sand from the surf squishing between my toes again, moonlit walks, or the soothing crashing of the ocean waves. Memories of a chili-laden Coney Island foot-long made the moldy cheese sandwich on the bunk seem even more revolting. At best, I had three days to live before my final breath on this earth. Seventy-two hours before a lie from a demonic child shot me through the heart in front of a community in want of a target. The two girls who had gone missing in the last month would soon become four, five, six, or more girls after my execution. They had convicted the wrong man. Correction; they were intent on killing the wrong person. Below the jail cell window, a young girl in a faded blue dress, maybe seven or eight years old, held up an emerald necklace and mouthed "Die.. die… die!" With an evil smirk on her lips, her eyes blazed red like the embers of a spent fire. A woman took her hand and led her away as I slammed my fist against the iron bars, and blood spurted from my knuckles as the skin split open.
By J. S. Wade2 years ago in Horror
The Closet
I tossed and turned feeling the sweat dripping down my body. Refusing to open my eyes and hoping above all things that I could fall asleep. I flipped over hoping to let my bare back feel some relief from the heat. While turning over to lay on my chest my head was turned just to the right and I could see the shadows dancing on my closet door. The heat , the exhaustion and my focus on dancing shadows lured me back to a sleepy state. With a final glance at my clock I saw it was 3 am and then the darkness took me.
By Jason Dilan2 years ago in Horror
