psychological
Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.
A Late Night Meal
I took a seat by myself in the mostly empty diner. It was late, past midnight, but not to the point of early morning just yet. I had gotten off of work early and figured I would treat myself to something at least half decent.
Hope
There, standing in his study with a fire throwing his shadow behind him onto a wooden plank floor beneath him, books in the stacks surrounding him, standing over a dark, wooden table like a sad bishop over an altar. Stately, silent, staring into the blackness of his cup of coffee that laid on the table. It seems to reflect a truth his eyes deny. Tulle Mason is his name, a man of sixty who has deep but sparse wrinkles that contour his face with deeply ash-filled, brown eyes. His hair is slicked back and holds reminders of his black past while also being sprinkled with this ever-graying future. Dressed in a three-piece black suit with a white vest and untied, gray bowtie.
Taylor YoungPublished 6 years ago in HorrorScariest Haunted Hospitals in the World
Hospitals have a very ironic atmosphere about them, if you think about it. These are buildings that are meant to house life-saving technology and be centers where people heal themselves. They are supposed to be places where people can seek out medical attention that could save their lives—but yet, the vast majority of people in modernized countries will die in a hospital.
Ossiana TepfenhartPublished 6 years ago in HorrorMy Dreams; They Haunt Me
I walk around my gloomy house feeling the shiver of a cold spirit following my every turn. The floor boards creek under my every step, followed by the echo of my haunting shadow whom I never see. As I enter the hallway to my room, I quicken my steps in order to hopefully lose the ghost I seem to have present, or in my mind. As I reach my door, I can hear it approaching; taking its time as it seems to be struggling to follow me. As I enter my room, I shut the door and lock it; the steps are now on the other side, unable to cross the barrier I've put up.
Stefanie MeldrumPublished 6 years ago in HorrorConsequences of Deviation
Colbert Wells had done nothing particularly exciting in his 38 revolutions around the sun. After 38 years he had found no passion, no love and a job in a gray office to match his gray life. He had few interests and exceedingly odd ones at that. He enjoyed the absence of others. He enjoyed organizing and reorganizing his shelves. He enjoyed blank canvases and empty containers. The only thing that really ignited the fire surrounding his heart were his trips to the grocery. He felt, what he may describe, as an incredible thrill, walking down the aisles. Observing the pristine organization of the shelves, the hum of the fridges. The harsh lights that shone almost white bounced off the tile floors in a way that made his heart skip a beat. He craved these strolls through the aisles, sometimes only looking at the stock. The fridges filled with fish sticks, frozen pizzas and whatever else. Usually, he didn’t even buy anything. He just browsed, often for hours. He went absurdly early. When the floors had been freshly cleaned and bounced light off of them even more effectively. Before the hordes of people poured into the store, mussing about with the organized shelves, pushing and moving the items, their kids wailing on the floors or drooling in the carriages. These things made him suppress bile that rose in the back of his throat. These people ruined his favorite place.
Clove CameronPublished 6 years ago in HorrorWhat Nightmares Are Made Of
Let me start by stating that none of what I am about tell you is facts or science. I've always been an avid dreamer. Dreams have filled my sleep consistently almost every day for as long as I can remember. Most of the time they're happy dreams where I'm having fun with my friends or going on an adventure. If they aren't happy, then they're most likely normal everyday-like dreams where I'm going to college or having a familiar conversation with someone I know relatively well. They're usually something enjoyable, or at least unoffensive. Usually.
The Night I Disappeared
On 2014, August 8th, David and I were on Logic Tech like any other night. We decided to sleep together while talking on the webcam site. He was playing his video games and we chatted for a bit:
ILDAS56 HowellPublished 6 years ago in HorrorDeath
"Amilia, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?" I slowly open my eyes to see an unfamiliar woman talking to me. Who is she? I think to myself.
Malorie AndersonPublished 6 years ago in HorrorThoughts From Disturbed Patience File 1
On days like these, I am reminded who I really am. Cold. Damp. Scary. On the inside nothing but a core of what is. Last night, Mr. Cole told me he and his helpers were going to make the sounds go away. These sounds, these noises. The damp, cold, scary screams and whispers inside my ears.
Nathan WheelerPublished 6 years ago in HorrorMother's Day
'The Brood' (1979) interrogates motherhood with a fine tooth comb. Nola is locked away at an experimental psychiatric facility with the radical Dr. Hal Raglan. She is his star patient. A kind of Frankenstein monster, Nola acts as an expression of his practice, his theories, his results, and his narcissism. He encourages Nola to turn her thoughts to flesh and release them. All of her anger and frustration manifests into the one thing her life revolves around: birth. Nola births her rage into an army of tiny creatures hell bent on avenging all the wrongs against mom.
HAG - A Story of Sleep Paralysis Part 2
When Ellis woke in the morning, he felt changed. He had never been frightened before, not really. He had heard stories of monsters and seen scary cartoons, but they never affected him. He never needed to sleep with the light on, or never had any real nightmares. The kind of nightmare he had had before was more frustration than fear induced. Nightmares like being stuck on the ceiling while his friends played with his toys on the floor. Dreams he would tell his mum and dad about in the morning as they ate their breakfast.
Trev LewisPublished 6 years ago in HorrorLiving Nightmare
I was running through the underground, dodging little children, crashing into older people, and bumping through barriers with my ticket, knowing if I didn't run any faster I was going to miss the last tube. I don't know why I was running through the underground or why I was determined that I had to get the last tube. I could easily turn back and go up to the main roads and get a taxi.
Molly (Molls) GilesPublished 6 years ago in Horror