Top Stories
Stories in Horror that you'll love, handpicked by our team.
Truth in Politics. Top Story - October 2026.
I'm publishing this in the Horror community because American politics feels like a House of Horrors now and because this note has been sitting in my drafts for too long. Besides, I've found a fitting image to go with the story. What could be better than a reference to the Walking Dead , one of the most successful horror TV shows, in an image and story to be published in October, the month of Halloween and horrors?
By Lana V Lynx4 days ago in Horror
Breathing. Top Story - October 2026.
Marilee sang along with the song on the radio as she drove into town. She was in an unusually good mood, despite having to make a last-minute trip because the eggs she had were rotten. Maybe it was because she was still excited to make peanut butter cookies? Or that she needed to get extra forks anyway? Maybe it was because it was a beautiful day and she had gotten out of bed at a decent time? Or that traffic wasn’t bad at all?
By Rebecca Patton5 days ago in Horror
Yes, Mrs. Halloway. Top Story - October 2026.
Leah loved being a housekeeper, even if no one really knew what she did. Normal people didn’t hire her; her services were for clients that were too rich to care about anything beyond their daily 5:30 p.m. martinis. Everyone else assumed she was either a maid, an interior decorator, or a glorified housewife. At times, she felt like all three.
By Caitlin Mitchell8 days ago in Horror
My Mother's Book. Top Story - October 2026.
It's only a transcendental irony that this story should be published during the harvest season. Some kind of cruel twist of fate that will make it seem like this is just another legend of ghosts, goblins, and vampires. But this is no yarn woven around the campfire on all hallows eve. It is as real as you sitting here reading my words this very moment. Not the kind of reality men see, but the kind that dwells within the bosom with an inward warmth. Humans come to expect things, things they take for granted yet they barely understand.
By Henry Shaw8 days ago in Horror
European Ghosts Slovenia. Top Story - October 2026.
Ghost of Former Castle Servant Bogenšperk Castle , located in central Slovenia near Litija, is a 16th-century castle recognized for its cultural significance and architectural evolution from medieval fortifications to Renaissance residences. It reached its peak during the late 17th century when Janez Vajkard Valvasor resided there, contributing to its legacy.
By Rasma Raisters12 days ago in Horror
The Urban Legend of 100 Steps Cemetery. Top Story - September 2026.
If it were possible, would you want to know when and how you'll die? No? Some questions are better left unknown. Like many aspects of the supernatural world, maybe we aren't supposed to know. The supernatural world will hold its secrets until it's our turn to step onto the other side.
By Jasmine Aguilar12 days ago in Horror
no signal. Top Story - September 2026.
I come to, blinking fog from my lead-laden eyes. I don't remember the last thing I was doing. I think- dimly, with a pulsing headache- that I might have been singing to a song on the radio. I look around at my surroundings. The snow is heavy, thick. It insulates the sound around me, making it so all I can hear is the ticking of my car lights, metronome-like and slow. I groan out a noise that ends in a weak whimper. The seatbelt digs into my shoulder where I'm slumped to the side at an awkward angle. Thankfully, nothing feels broken or concussed, though I'm sure I'll have nasty bruises soon. I rest my forehead against the unmarred glass window. I'm lucky I only skidded into a field ditch and not a copse of trees I saw a few miles back. Behind me, I can see the welcome sign for the village. I think I see someone, but there's no one there when I blink and focus in. The fog is starting to lift now that the disorientation is wearing off. I don't think I can get out of this ditch alone, though, and it's far too late in the holiday season to make a call for towing. Maybe I can call the police? I root around for my lost phone, finding it wedged underneath the passenger seat. When I click it open, I see there's no signal and curse my bad luck. I can't help the huff of frustration, feeling it build up in my chest and spill out. I remember the emergency radio my dad insisted I carry, and though I rolled my eyes then, I'm thankful now. My thankfulness putters out to a trickle as I realize the radio also has no signal. The fear builds up so slowly- like caramel drizzling- that, by the time I register it, it's too late to stop it. I'm stranded. I hyperventilate in my cooling car, my gloved palms reaching up to muffle my panicked little shrieks. By the time the animal fear recedes and I can think clearly again, the car is considerably colder. I shiver in just my turtleneck and reach out with shaking fingers to snag my winter coat from the passenger seat. Warmer now, I sniffle once. I take stock of my situation. Now that I can think, I remember not too far back, where the radio had been working before I slid into the ditch. I look in my rear view. It's not a far walk to the welcome sign, but in these conditions it may as well be a marathon. I suck my lower lip into my mouth in contemplation. I really have no choice, do I? It's either huddle like prey in the car and freeze to death, or walk the half mile or so and hope my radio works. My mind is set. I secure the thick radio across my chest with the provided strap, and turn it on. It bellows static, making me flinch. I have to push my body against the jammed door to open it, and almost fall face first into the snow covered ground. I scramble to regain my bearings, and frantically squash down the feeling of something being wrong . More wrong than my signal being dead, more wrong than my car being in a ditch. All around me are corn fields. There is no corn this time of year, but if I think hard enough I can almost imagine the stalks blooming up, up, up, until they suffocate the sun and leave only the fat moon above. The full moon illuminates my way. I'm thankful for the light, even if the shadows that are cast make my skin crawl. They feel wrong . Too long, too dark. I try to side step the shadows of the signal towers, but it feels like each time I do they elongate to meet me. I huff a laugh into my scarf. I'm just seeing things , I reason with myself. The silence is deafening. I barely hear the crunch of my boots, or my breathes puffing out in front of me. There is only silence and the cold for miles and miles around me. Halfway to the town edge, I slow to a stop and tilt my head. I thought I heard movement in the fields, far off in the distance. I try to squint, but all I see is a thick flurry of snowflakes and more inky shadows. I think I maybe see a humanoid shape, but when I blink and turn to face it, it's gone. I nervously laugh at my foolishness. There is nothing there. I continue on, fidgeting with the knob of the radio as I go. I hear a whisper in the wind. Something in my primal brain stem tells me to keep walking and not look back, so I listen. I keep my eyes firmly in front of me, fixed on the sign I can see cresting through the moonlight, pretending I don't see the shadows twirling at my feet playfully. Nipping. Just as I start to sweat, the whispers fade into nothing. I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm back to the ear ringing silence. It envelopes me like a familiar friend. I am just a few paces away from the edge of the town, ready to sprint the rest of the way, when the radio crackles to life. I blink down at it in surprise. I had almost forgotten about it, oddly enough. I think I hear a male voice over the static. Or maybe a woman's? It's hard to make out with all the white noise. My legs feel like lead the last few steps to the edge. Just as I step on the invisible border line, the radio shrieks, and I jump in surprise. Had I been holding the radio, I would have dropped it. My blood runs cold at the familiar voice over the speaker. A voice I could never forget, no matter how many years she's been gone. "Darcy, baby, where are you going?" My mother's voice cooes at me.
By Adora Aguirre16 days ago in Horror
Drive-in Movie Night. Top Story - September 2026.
All small towns have their urban legends. Some have a murderer that roams the area around a specific holiday, while others claim that aliens or ghosts appear after midnight. The list could go on forever. I remember when Scary Movie 3 came out and my friends and I saw it for the first time. The random, mysterious "seven days" phone calls never seemed that scary to us. We always found a way to break down a movie and strip the fear away. We would even look up real urban legends to see if anything similar had ever actually happened. Whenever we found something promising, though, it usually ended up debunked, or we'd find a news report noting that the police had caught a human culprit.
By Mallory Farnum20 days ago in Horror
We are Still Here. Top Story - September 2026.
Jonah Cross drove his car down the long highway listening to that old Tiffany song he liked so much as he found himself driving through a stretch of the lonely highway that he hated with a passion. It wasn't a long stretch, but it was there.
By Timothy E Jones20 days ago in Horror
Bride of Chucky vs Seed of Chucky. Top Story - September 2026.
I had been on a roll writing movie comparison stories, that I decided to delve into the Chucky films, though as I stated in the beginning of this, there are rules. It's only the seven core films that are mentioned, and it will be divided into three parts, because honestly, I believe the films were divided into three phases. The first part was the original Child's Play trilogy, which covered the 1988 original, and the sequels that came out in 1990 and 1991. You can check out that story here . For Part 2, the focus will be on the fourth and fifth films, Bride of Chucky and Seed of Chucky.
By Clyde E. Dawkins23 days ago in Horror
