monster
Monsters and horror go hand in hand; explore horrific creatures, beasts and hairy scaries like Freddy Krueger, Frankenstein and far beyond.
Eating my experiences (27)
TOME 34 Mel lavished me in comforts I had long let go of, a proper bed in a warm room and fresh food. I nearly got lost in her charm before I went to visit Alex, who was kept in a windowless room away from all others. He had his hands bound and slept on a concrete floor. I rushed to his side, my new dress trailing behind me across the floor. Alex was under a thin cotton cloth shivering in the cold.
L.D. MalachitePublished 3 years ago in HorrorSubmerged
Mina’s daily routine on the research ship Leviathan didn’t differ much on a daily basis. After waking up at first light, she would eat a meager breakfast of gruel and sausages, spend most of the day doing routine maintenance and cleaning, and occasionally assist Dr. Bhatt in his research.
Elysian Orb
And there it was. That card of death. A skeleton standing proudly on the sun with a single arrow and a crow on its shoulder. All the hopes I had have for this fortune telling were gone.
Stephanie Nicole KeatingPublished 3 years ago in HorrorSubject 16
Doctor Samara Quinlan sat up in an instant and rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust to the angry red glow of emergency lighting. The echoes of the crash were already fading. Thunder? An explosion? Close, whatever it was. Distant klaxons began wailing an alarm, and seconds later, combat boots scrambled down the hallway outside her quarters. Predictable. Soon would come the rhythms of gunfire and the screams of dying men. The dream was always the same, though it rarely started with such a literal bang.
Robert JackPublished 3 years ago in HorrorThe Little Black Book
Evan Evan Brockham sat in Math’s class one day staring at the classroom wall. The deeper he stared, the more he lost connection with reality into his own world; up until he was nudged slightly in the shoulder causing him to lose balance of his head leaning on his hand. “Hey Evan, where did you go?” looking to the left of himself, Evan finds one of his closest friends; Jessica or “Jess” for short. “Huh?” Evan replies, “You know…. What planet did you gaze off to while staring at the wall?” Jess says while giving him a slight smile. “Oh right. No-where, just zoning out of reality I guess.” Evan looks back down into his book and suddenly loses interest with the excessive algebra notes he had written throughout the lesson. “How mystical of you”, someone to the right of Evan says with a snicker, Blake, the only other close friend that Evan was able to make. It’s not that he can’t make any friends, there just aren’t enough people that value trust over popularity. The bell rings and Evan packs all his books into his bag to get ready to walk home with his friends. As he steps out of the building he pulls out a school cap from his bag and places it on his head, it’s not too sunny but it’s nice for a Friday afternoon.
Jessica LachlanPublished 3 years ago in HorrorJosah and the Mothman
Josah and the Mothman Josah sat in a small wooden home on a farm carved out of a dark and dangerous forest. He sat drinking to ease his grief knowing It would be of little use. Josah lived in one of the few quiet corners of a country that no longer exists, in a history before history. Josah and his wife knew that there was conflict just two mountains and a valley away. They like most people of their time got their news from travelers, or if they happened to catch a bar playing at the pub, but the closest pub was a half days ride from their house. Months back a traveler had told them about several tents, wagons, and three large, frightful necroidal menagerie pens brought in on the backs of giant undead mammoths known as Marwmammut. The traveler who was heading back to the nearby coastal city of Havagno said the growing army had battled an enemy battalion and appeared to be setting up more permanent buildings. In the months to come Josah would slay two necroidals that had become trapped in the underbrush on the outskirts of their farm. Both were once human, both presumably killed in the recent battle they carried large baskets containing decaying human heads. After he killed the terrible things, he burned them in a deep pit and buried it over. He knew they were considered royal property and destroying them was punishable by a slow death, or worse.
Watson BrownPublished 3 years ago in HorrorThese Walls
Mud tore through the gravel path leading to the once beautifully carved wooden door. Faces of angels, sitting on either side of the path, had faded to sad stone monsters watching helplessly from their cemented prison. Ivy clawed and climbed its way to the door, pushed it slightly ajar. A shiny new silver padlock hung off the cracked oak handles.
Amara NelighPublished 3 years ago in HorrorFine Dining
I have seen little else other than the plainly decorated walls of our apartment for several months. The walls themselves are fine, Lisa did what she could with what we could afford when we moved in last year. She surely would have preferred a balance between classic and contemporary styles. Something she could have been proud to show off to her friends and family. Domestic dreams could wait back then, and we were satisfied with what Ikea could provide based on our budget. There used to be time for planning and saving. People lived their lives as though they had something they could build. As though there were a future. I suppose there were also those who ‘lived in the moment’, trying to make the most of the time they had. Carpe diem. I can’t imagine what that could even mean now.
Mac PowersPublished 3 years ago in Horror“God’s Work”
Now she was certain she was going to hell. Naomi Parker was in the game and couldn’t get out of it. It started on the cliffs and with a prayer sent to the heavens that was answered. An angel appeared and gave her a deal, simply stating that Naomi only had to do God's work. All she needed was a little money to get her back on her feet. Whatever she did that black book seemed to follow her. With every haunting turn, the pages would take their toll. She didn’t want to play anymore. 20,000 dollars seemed like so much at the time and she was told that she was doing God’s work. Little did she know, accepting equaled her life changing forever.
Katelynn BaldwinPublished 3 years ago in HorrorSolomon's Three
The words before me appeared blurry as my eyes strained to make out the sentences. I had been at this for what seemed like hours.
Lara AddamsPublished 3 years ago in HorrorMatthew
Dr. Claudia Ann was a world renowned brain surgeon, respected by her peers, her community and most of all her patients. On February 14, valentines day she discovered she was pregnant. Not with one baby but two babies. She was so excited for the news, especially since her husband and she had been trying for the past 4 years.
Sophia HochgesangPublished 3 years ago in HorrorSlinky
At night my blood leaves me to join the other in the room. It lives under my floorboards like a pearl and has done since I was born. I never really see it clearly but it enters my dreams every night. I will never hurt you but I need to lend your blood it says to me in raspy whispers as if its gurgling the mouthwash my Dad uses. I know it leaves the house but that's all I know for sure. The rest is siphoned in my head whilst I'm dead to the world so it could all be made up. I sense it leaves my window, slops across the lawn like a water bomb and scales the garden fence. Beyond lies the village where it feeds all night. Not blood. It feeds on muscles. Not enough to kill but enough to make its victims weak. In time they strengthen again. Like all cattle I guess. It liquifies their muscles and drinks them. I think its brown, the juice. Its brown in my dreams. Pouring out of their mouths into its quivering open excited cavity. It slurps and smacks and licks. Such enjoyment from something so gross. Muscle soup. Yuk! People wake up utterly tired and visit the doctor. A tonic is needed she says. To fortify you. Its a bug. There are lots of tonic bottles in homes in our village. When its full it comes back home. I sense it cooling down in the fishbowl, licking my goldfish and making it thinner. I have to chuck extra flakes in when it does. My poor fish. Hardly any muscle left. I think it came from the sea, my floorboard friend. Or the hospital waste. Sometimes I sense my dead Mum. Like I was, I suppose its sort of my undead baby. Living next to me. I've seen tentacles in my dreams, blood-filled tendrils reaching into open throats to do their slippery work. They head for the heart first, its favourite treat, so thick and strong. Then the limbs get diluted leaving just enough to move. For fun it often fingers the anxious brains of its victims but this thinking mass is of no real interest to a muscle eater. All those stringy neurons. All that baggage. That's how I know it drinks muscle. In my dreams. We're sort of connected mentally I guess. Sometimes it leaves a trail of fluid like snot across bedroom floors and straight out the windows, but by morning it's crystallised into nothing. Maybe its my strange placenta or a sick moat mollusc. Who knows. It could be ancient. Or my age too! Its hard to say. Anyway, I call it Slinky because it moves like one. You know, sort of flippy floppy. Sometimes, if my head is turned straight, I see it back-flipping up my bedclothes towards my mouth. When I get my blood back in the morning and re-inflate I feel great. Really great. I hope my parents never move house. I'll have to take Slinky with me. In the fishbowl I imagine. For now we're doing well. I'd better get up. It's time for school and as usual I skip breakfast. I take an apple or two to keep my Mum happy and then I run. I run past houses where I know its been. Like circuitry the faded trails all lead to me, a battery of blood muscles ready to pop. I lean back in class and smile at the girl sitting next to me. She looks tired. Really really tired. A thin line of brown stuff dribbles down her chin.