Top Stories
Stories in Horror that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Meloetta’s Jealousy
“Melo look! This one looks like a dolphin jumping out of a sea of clouds!” Meloetta (Mellow-ettah) gave her Grandma the side eye. She crossed her arms even tighter and turned to face her Dad, who was sleeping in the aisle seat.
Dharrsheena Raja SegarranPublished about a year ago in HorrorApril 15, 2013
Trigger Alert: this is a story about death & loss, specifically the death of our son in a car accident all but ten years ago, told from his point of view. The events are real, though his thoughts are obviously fictional. I’ve written it mostly in hopes of finding some catharsis & share it with you as part of that quest. But if such things make you squeamish, & especially if you knew our son, please don’t read any further. Those who have become a part of this community of loss would sincerely wish that no one else need come to understand what we’re going through, not even so much as to read a story.
Randy Wayne Jellison-KnockPublished about a year ago in HorrorThe Last Weekend at Home
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. I should have noticed it earlier, but I was too obsessed with my own dashing looks to even consider it. If I had not been so fixated on my chestnut colored hair, dreamy chai colored eyes, and strong European features, I may have been able to stop what eventually overtook my life. I may have been able to avoid being chained to a reality that mirrored what I had grown up in. If only…
Iris HarrisPublished about a year ago in HorrorRogue
A psychological & emotional slow bleed. “The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own.” An icy chill shot down Gianna’s back as she read the ink-blotted words in her notebook. Her voice lingered in the space that drifted between silence and the moans of the outside storm, then sifted back into the night like a ghost. Slowly, she lifted her head from the message - a haunting epistle she barely remembered writing - and met her own eyes in the mirror.
Lost in the Woods
**This story contains themes that some readers may find disturbing. Discretion is advised.** The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. That much, I had somehow come to expect, but today there was something different about her.
Holly PheniPublished about a year ago in HorrorTAXING
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. The pure white, cloudy, gossamer outline appeared to be a human. Was it a ghost? Was it a spirit?
Babs IversonPublished about a year ago in HorrorA Mirror Darkly
Now… “The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own.” Anita recounts gravely to the class. “I will never forget the eyes of that monster staring back at me.” She proceeds to recall aloud the events that lead to the uncanny ordeal she got herself into years ago. The room falls silent as she tells her ugly story.
Fade To Black
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. The reflection that jarred me from my nightly semi-conscious task of removing the makeup and city grime from my face, was oddly familiar, but wasn’t my own.
Cathy holmesPublished about a year ago in HorrorPhantasmagoria
LIST OF POTENTIAL TRIGGERS (INCLUDING SPOILERS) ARE PROVIDED AT THE BOTTOM Image created by author with Samsung Photo Editor
Dharrsheena Raja SegarranPublished about a year ago in HorrorDarcy girl.
Please note - trigger warning, descriptions of family violence. The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own, and Pa was a mighty cross I’d taken a peek!
Kelly SibleyPublished about a year ago in HorrorWasn't
Introduction This story is for the Vocal "Broken Mirror" Challenge which you can read about below. The music is David Bowie's cover of "Around and Around" . By the end of this story, you will know why.
Mike Singleton - MikeydredPublished about a year ago in HorrorLast Days
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. It was me, but there was something warped, and that was not me. I narrow my eyes and peer into the narrowing eyes of my deformed reflection. I was off, and while I could see it in my reflection, no one else could see it. At least no one acknowledges it. Getting out of bed has become a chore. A chore I hate. After fifteen to twenty minutes of lying awake, staring at the ceiling and wishing I hadn't woken up, I finally shift to the side of the bed, legs dangling down the four foot high drop to the floor.
Colt HendersonPublished about a year ago in Horror