Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
For the faint of heart, beware! Hong Kong Fox Spirit Murder Incident
Today, I'm going to talk about the sensational fox spirit murder case that rocked Hong Kong in 1981. During that time, everyone in Hong Kong, from tea restaurants to office buildings, from taxi drivers to neighbors, was talking about this case. At night, when they turned off the lights to sleep, they had to keep a close eye on their children's cribs, afraid that something strange might come knocking at their door. This case was not groundless. The level of strangeness from start to finish was even more terrifying than the fox spirit stories in "Liaozhai".
By Aiden Wang7 days ago in Horror
THE MIRROR THAT LEARNED MY NAME. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
I covered the mirror because it wouldn’t stop smiling. At first, I thought it was just exhaustion. Night shifts mess with your head, especially when you live alone. Faces blur. Reflections lag. You see things that aren’t there.
By shakir hamid7 days ago in Horror
The Neighbor Who Didn’t Exist. AI-Generated.
I live alone on the seventh floor of an old apartment building, where the wooden floors creak and the elevator hums in a familiar rhythm. In the mornings, sunlight filters through the dusty curtains, casting thin streaks across the floor. At night, the hallway lights spill pale, wavering light through the cracks in my door. At first, I felt peaceful.
By BlackScreenn7 days ago in Horror
Still Life with Woman
I had recently felt unwell, despite being young and assumed healthy. To be exact, I had felt my body slowly becoming heavier in recent days. It started in my fingers and toes, where I lost the freedom of movement expected of healthy extremities. It wasn’t particularly difficult, but neither was it easy.
By Silent Truth 7 days ago in Horror
Living in the In-Between: What My ADHD Feels Like
I didn’t wake up one morning and think, Today is the day I realize my brain works differently. It happened in pieces. Small, quiet realizations that stacked on top of each other like unread notifications. It started with an alarm. Not because I didn’t hear it. Not because I slept through it. I heard it. I looked at it. I thought about getting up. Then I stared at the ceiling wondering if cereal or eggs would take longer. Then I wondered if I still had eggs. Then I remembered I never washed the pan from yesterday. Then I checked my phone “for a second” and somehow twenty minutes disappeared. My body stayed in bed. My mind went on ten different field trips. That’s when I started to suspect something wasn’t just laziness. I tell myself every day: Today I will be productive. Not in a grand, inspirational way. Just simple goals. Shower. Answer two emails. Eat real food. Fold laundry. Four tasks. That’s it. Yet somehow, I start by organizing my sock drawer. Why? Because I went to grab a shirt. Noticed socks on the floor. Sat down to pick them up. Found a pen. Wondered where that pen came from. Started looking for its matching notebook. Ended up sitting on the floor scrolling through my phone. Still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Still hungry. Still no emails answered. But wow… my socks look amazing. People say, “Just focus.” I wish they knew how funny that sounds. I want to focus. I crave focus. My brain, however, treats focus like a cat treats commands. Sometimes it listens. Sometimes it stares at me and knocks everything off the table. There are moments when my brain becomes a laser. I write for three hours without blinking. I clean my entire kitchen in one burst. I solve problems quickly. I feel unstoppable. Then suddenly… it’s gone. Like someone unplugged my motivation without warning. I don’t know when it will come back. I don’t know how to turn it on. I just sit there, frozen between wanting to move and not moving at all. It feels like being stuck at a green light while everyone behind you honks. Grocery stores are my personal obstacle course. I walk in with a list. Milk. Bread. Rice. That’s all. Ten minutes later I’m holding candles, gum, a notebook, and a plant I absolutely do not need. Why do I own so many notebooks? Because I believe each one will magically turn me into a new, organized person. It never does. I leave the store with everything except bread. Every. Single. Time. Conversations are another adventure. I try so hard to listen. I really do. But my brain starts building side quests. Someone says, “Yesterday I went to the mall.” My brain says: Oh yeah, I need socks. Did I pay my phone bill? I should drink more water. I wonder if penguins have knees. Suddenly they ask, “What do you think?” I panic-smile. “Yeah… totally.” I have no idea what they just said. Growing up, I thought I was broken. Teachers wrote: “Smart but careless.” “Needs to try harder.” “Daydreams too much.” I believed them. I thought everyone else had a manual for life that I somehow lost. Why could others sit and study for hours? Why could others remember homework? Why did simple things feel heavy? No one explained that my brain wasn’t lazy. It was wired differently. ADHD isn’t just distraction. It’s emotional, too. I feel things loudly. Excitement becomes obsession. Small rejection feels enormous. Criticism echoes for days. At the same time, I can forget entire conversations. Not because I don’t care. Because my brain misfiles information like a messy computer. People assume forgetting equals not caring. That hurts. I care deeply. Sometimes too deeply. The day I learned about ADHD, something shifted. Not everything became easy. But everything made sense. I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t broken. I was different. Different with strengths. Different with challenges. Different with a brain that moves fast and zigzags. Now I build my life differently. I write things down immediately. I use alarms for everything. I break tasks into tiny pieces. Not: “Clean the house.” But: Pick up clothes. Wipe table. Wash three dishes. Three dishes is better than zero. Progress doesn’t have to be perfect. Some days are still hard. Some days I scroll instead of start. Some days I forget important things. Some days I feel behind everyone else. But I remind myself: I am running a different race. And I am still running. Living with ADHD feels like living in the in-between. Between chaos and creativity. Between exhaustion and inspiration. Between struggling and shining. It’s messy. It’s frustrating. It’s also full of imagination, curiosity, empathy, and ideas. So many ideas. I’m learning to stop asking: “What’s wrong with me?” And start asking: “How does my brain work best?” That question changes everything. I am not a failure. I am not broken. I am a human with a fast, noisy, beautiful mind. And I’m still figuring it out. One unfinished to-do list at a time.
By Behind the Curtain9 days ago in Horror
Dusty Bones
A rickety worn shack swayed ominously as a malicious wind tore after it. A fevered cry from the weathered boards fell upon an old man’s ears. He paid it no mind however and continued to stare forlornly out the shattered panes into the ocean’s depths below. An internal battle raged through his mind as a lone candle flickered threateningly. “All alone… everyone’s gone… my fault.” His tattered memory danced across his lips as his ghosts relentlessly tormented him. One peering inside the shack may mistake him as a lone ghost himself, for his pale and frail bones looked skeletonized from his fever crazed state. He stands at this fractured window and stares at the sea, haunted always haunted.
By Mikayla Decker 9 days ago in Horror
