psychological
Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.
Unraveling the Enigma of Dogman: A Cryptid Controversy in Pennsylvania and Beyond. Content Warning.
In the shadowy realms where myth converges with reality, the enigmatic figure of the Dogman prowls, captivating the imaginations of cryptid enthusiasts and folklore aficionados alike. Emerging from the depths of legend, this creature, with its eerie fusion of canine and humanoid features, challenges our understanding of the natural world and ignites debates about its existence.
By Alexander Mensah2 years ago in Horror
The Whispering Attic
The situation had been unfolding the entire day, and as the sun plunged beneath the skyline, the first drops of rain began to patter against the windows. Sarah huddled deeper into the easy chair, her book forgotten in her lap. The old house creaked and groaned around her, its wood challenging the wind's rising wrath.
By Md. Sayhanul Arif2 years ago in Horror
A Creepy Encounter at the Gas Station. AI-Generated.
Scene 1:- Heading to Pet Sit Last year, I was heading to this lady's house to pet sit. After I stopped for gas afterward, I was going to meet one of my friends to have her follow me and stay the night while I dog-sat. I stupidly waited until nighttime to get my gas and stopped at the pump farthest from the store.
By Bhangs Corporation2 years ago in Horror
The Shadows That Whisper in Ashwood Forest
A forest that nobody ventured into after dark lay on the outskirts of Ashwood, a small town. Elderly lore and menacing shadows snatched the lives of anybody who dared to wander too far, according to whispers heard among the villagers. There were some youngsters looking for an adrenaline rush, and despite the warnings, the woodland retained a sick attraction. Jenna, Mark, Olivia, and Tyler made the brave decision to try their courage on a cool autumn evening. Armoured with torches and bluster, they gathered at the edge of the jungle. The lengthy shadows the waning light created amid the trees swirled unsettlingly. They laughed their way into the woods, ignoring the tingle of horror that was attacking them. The uncomfortable silence was broken by Mark's voice, "Come on, guys, it's just a bunch of old ghost stories,". Absolutely, and we also have flashlights. In what way could something go wrong? Despite her unable to escape the sensation of being seen, Jenna answered. The air became colder as they dropped, and the light from their flashlights appeared to be absorbed by the shadows. With their twisted branches stretching like bony hands, the trees grew larger and more intimidating. The crunch of their footsteps on the dead leaves marked the end of the terrible silence that had before surrounded them. "Do you guys hear that?" Olivia whispered as her eyes widened in dread. They paused to pay attentively. There was nothing at first. A whisper-like sound began to infiltrate the trees. Their spines tingled as it moved in a peculiar, repeated tempo similar to the wind. Tyler said, "It's probably just the wind," but his voice sounded wavering. The whispers grew louder and more urgent. Words started to emerge, indistinct but full of hatred. Jenna felt a cool breath across the back of her neck and swung around, but saw nothing. As the trees seemed to press in on them, they began to feel panic. "We should go back," Mark muttered, his previous bluster gone. "This place is giving me the creeps." They turned to depart, but the road they had followed appeared to vanish, replaced by a tangle of identical trees. The murmurs became louder, and a chorus of wicked voices echoed through their brains. Shadows darted through the trees, just out of sight. "Stay together," Jenna implored, attempting to keep her terror at bay. We'll find the way out." But the forest has different plans. A new wave of fearless, icy shadows started to move across them. Shouts of heartbreak and rage replaced the murmurs. They were left in the dark when each of their flashlights died one by one. In the darkness, something slimy and chilly gripped Jenna's wrist. She let out a struggle and screamed, but the hold became more powerful. Even though she was blind, she could still feel and hear her friends' frantic movements and scared cries. Abruptly, the grip eased, and silence fell over the woodland. Jenna felt her heart thumping in her chest as she clawed for her flashlight, hoping it would turn back on. When it did, her friends were visible beneath the beam; they were bruised and shaky but otherwise well. "We need to move, now!" Shaking with fear, Mark let out a shout. Whispers had become a far-off rumble as they staggered through the night. They suddenly emerged from the jungle and into the open space after what seemed like an endless time. With the trees bathed in a silvery radiance that seemed almost calm, the moonlight was a pleasant reprieve. They pledged never to talk about what had happened that night, breathless and terrified. Nevertheless, the forest never forgot. Residents of Ashwood occasionally heard the faint echoes of screams and the rustle of leaves on calm evenings when the wind whispered through the trees. They knew the ghosts of the forest were still there, still waiting, still observing, and still whispering.
By Sakibul Hassan 2 years ago in Horror
This mysterious embalming custom is unique in the Philippines
Since 2000 BC, the Ibaloi people of the Philippines have practiced a very different burial culture. Kabayan mummies that are hundreds of years old are the result of long periods of smoking both inside and outside the body, which only applies to tribal leaders.
By Ken Daklak2 years ago in Horror
The Dream
The two brown French doors eagerly await my arrival. “I can’t believe I’m doing this…” I say beneath my breath. A few gentle taps and the doors swing open welcoming me with open arms. “Ahhh Corbin!” A tall woman in a black pants suit says like she hasn’t seen me in ages. I ignore her misplaced greeting and get straight to business. “Look I need you to know I’m not crazy, ok doctor uhmm..” Her face fills with a smile that her cheeks can barely contain. “Please call me Lucy, and I don’t think you’re coming to therapy because you’re crazy.” She says with a playful pat on the back. She’s definitely one of those bubbly happy girls that always looks on the bright side. A damn rainbow hugger, it's enough to make me wanna punch her in her perfect teeth. “Why don’t you come in and tell me what’s bothering you.”
By Kenneth Boutte2 years ago in Horror
The Routine. Content Warning.
My eyes burst open. I’m covered in sweat. My wife sleeps soundly beside me. I creep out of bed and shower, viciously scrubbing my skin raw. I pull on socks, some slacks, a belt, a button-down shirt, and a tie. Downstairs, my wife, still in her pajamas, has made a pot of coffee. I pour the coffee into the same mug I’ve been using every day for the past decade and kiss her good-bye.
By Kevin McLaughlin2 years ago in Horror
The 6 most haunting ghosts of all time
The Bell Family Ghost: One of America's oldest ghost stories belongs to the Bell family on their farm in Tennessee in the 19th century. When John Bell, the family's breadwinner, He shot a strange animal, he couldn't determine what it was and it disappeared. Immediately after that, strange noises appeared. Strange things fall unexpectedly, animals on the farm behave strangely for no apparent reason, and family members are attacked by invisible forces. The event took place from 1817 - 1821 and is considered a classic ghost story. John Bell eventually passed away with a strange bottle of an unknown substance found on him.
By Ken Daklak2 years ago in Horror
At the Sheltering Doors. Top Story - May 2024.
The doors, they always scrambled for the doors first. When they arrive and always by night it was a race to desperately bar the creatures entry to the house in the slow crawl of numb feet that the dream would impose upon him. He never seemed fast enough and the creatures uninhibited by the same constraints always made the doors first. The houses in his dream-scapes vary night to night - Some are mansions, others shacks and some are distorted contortions of his childhood home which burned down when he was ten. But the doors are always the same – frail, loose hinged and never could be fully shut. The creatures too vary – twisted and corrupted forms of animals and people familiar to him: family dogs preternaturally swollen to twice their size with rotting coats of mange and slicked damp with dark liquids of decay. The people too were bloated vestiges of ones vaguely familiar to him but whose names escape him. Their eyes gorged wide with dark blood which streaked their mottled faces in crusted trails like lost rivers which hung from their chins swinging in ropy columns beneath paling yellowed teeth. To let them break through would mean death. This he knew with grave certainty. At the door was desperation and panic as their stench emanated forth, sickly and pungent like vomit and mold and ending in a gruesome exhalation like cancer, the stench sticky and clinging invading his nostrils and lungs never to be expunged. Then in the sudden waking he never knew if he repelled them or not.
By Kevin Rolly2 years ago in Horror
