Horror

1973
Now: “I think he’s gone.” I shush Charlie. My glare laced with anger, but mostly fear. “But…” I put an end to whatever his argument was about to be. He’s scared but so am I.
By Karena Graca5 years ago in Fiction
The Birthday Tradition
It was a cold winter morning in Plainville. It was also Remy's 21st birthday. She awoke in her family's old run-down barn and looked down at the chain and cuff locked around her ankle keeping her from reaching the walls of the barn. "Happy birthday to me," she thought without feeling. Her heart felt as cold as the barn. At least she had wool blankets to keep her warm and the barn provided some shelter from the numbing cold outside. It was just enough to survive, but not enough to be comfortable.
By Krystle Lynn Rederer5 years ago in Fiction
The Family Barn
The barn. An old place that his Dad had loved since childhood. But, Cyrus couldn't bring himself to entirely like it. As the place was more full of painful memories than good ones. Ones that were unintentionally caused by a former babysitter, Aunt Celeste, and her visit over the Summer. She was his Dad's big sister if he remembered it right. She would bring him out to the barn with his friends and the other kids from the neighborhood. Having them play hide and seek.
By Raphael Fontenelle5 years ago in Fiction
La Bete Noire
“…and then, in front of everyone, she opened the barrel. Do you know what she found inside?” We all gasped, holding our glasses of Cabernet a bit closer to our chests. For the past half hour, Nirali had every last one of us enraptured with the grisly details of our town's most infamous cold case. Of all the friends I made since I moved to Palmetto Town, none could hold a candle to her when it came to storytelling.
By Palmarosa5 years ago in Fiction
Black Fly Season
The house and barn were hidden from view, camouflaged by overgrown shrubs and trees. It wasn’t until they turned onto the drive itself that Maura Hartson caught a glimpse of the prim white house and the old cowshed beside it. Two cruisers were parked in front of the house, strobes on, painting the clapboards a lazy blue and red. The coroner’s van was parked sideways in the drive; Maura stopped behind it. A uniformed officer made his way toward her. She studied his approach. Hurried, harried, intense. She opened the door, climbed out.
By Patricia Thorpe5 years ago in Fiction
The Devil’s Bargain
What would you do to protect your birthright? Not just a stretch of land, but the culmination of generations’ worth of toil and sacrifice. My family’s farm had stood for over a century, 240 acres of dry, stubborn soil, an old barn leaning under the weight of time, and a house built with bare hands in 1920 by my great-great-grandfather. To a passerby, it was nothing but a dying relic, but to me, it was a kingdom—my inheritance, my legacy.
By K-jay5 years ago in Fiction
The Cake is a Lie
The crisp, cool air of late autumn came in through the door as young Jimmy McMurphy walked into his grandfather's antique store in the small town of Lakewood, Virginia, with his friends Matthew and Byron.
By Adam Carden5 years ago in Fiction
Reflected
When I was seven years old, I woke up in the middle of the night with the urge to use the bathroom. My parents kept a night light in the hallway for such occasions, and there was nothing unusual on the journey. Or even as I relieved myself.
By Stranna Pearsa5 years ago in Fiction
The Package
The guy in the suit was talking to the shop owner. “Look, if you don’t pay insurance, the rioters will destroy your business tonight,” the man in the suit said.
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Fiction
The Chocolate Monger
Robert Mumford had always loved chocolate. He had chocolate every day in as many different ways as he could. Chocolate donuts at breakfast. Chocolate soda at lunch. At dinner, he had chocolate milk and chocolate cake for dessert. Mumford’s Chocolate Limited did a good business selling refined chocolate concentrate syrup to manufacture chocolate masterpieces. At Mumford’s, a huge tank of chocolate syrup did not wait long to distribute its contents to manufacturers that turned the sweet liquid into money.
By Mark Stigers 5 years ago in Fiction
Within Me
I can't take this anymore, the screams ring in my head like a song, it so satisfying. It's only a matter of time before I get out of this shell.
By Miguel Trejo Acosta5 years ago in Fiction
The Kindness of a Stranger
Mr. Tobin was ordinary. He was quiet, a little odd, but he was ordinary. I remember thinking that every day on my way home. I waved just like always, the neighborly thing to do. Pulling slowly towards my driveway, I noticed he was watering his flowers. This is how I passed him most days, slowly working his way up and down the rows of his late wife’s garden. How long had she been gone now? Two… three years? I was pulled swiftly from my thoughts when I had finally reached my house and Ranger bounded around the front yard. I rushed out of the car quickly to keep his giant paws from tearing into my brand-new SUV. He was still a puppy and brought a whole new meaning to house training. I caught him mid-jump, catching his legs just above his paws. Ranger was only 6 months old, but already toward over my small five-foot frame. What was I thinking getting a Great Dane? He made me feel safe though. That is what I had wanted, needed. Despite his overzealous personality, he was doing wonderful in his training. Once in his work harness, he was all business. I slipped the harness over his head to begin our evening walk.
By Paige Baker5 years ago in Fiction