fiction
Horror fiction that delivers on its promise to scare, startle, frighten and unsettle. These stories are fake, but the shivers down your spine won't be.
Answers From the Past
“As we have discussed our ancestors and how their choices affect us in the present, I would like all of you to think of one person who is deceased that had an impact on your life. How did their choices affect who you are and where you are today? I want you to do some serious research on this and interview family members. Quote some things they say in your paper. This is due next Wednesday. That gives you a week for interviews. You all are dismissed.”
By LR Hatfield8 years ago in Horror
The Sweeper in the Yard
At 2:55 on his third night in the house, John sat bolt upright in bed. His ears strained to make out any noise. The light bulb seared his tired eyes but he didn’t dare switch it off. He wrung his hands as he scanned the room for something solid to hold. His golf clubs were still in a crate downstairs, yet to be unpacked.
By Hazel Hitchins8 years ago in Horror
The Beast Within
Serena presses on as she nears an opening to the underbelly of an abandoned warehouse. A sac that has been burst open from the inside, which is thirty feet long, sways over the gallows which are now the warehouse. A foul-smelling liquid drips onto the discarded skeleton remains of previous victims which are underneath the sac. A crack in the earth shimmers with water as the moonlight reflects off its surface, however, the pond of fluid has made its home here in the aftermath of an earthquake. “I must confess Serena, I am impressed with your motivation to find me, however, what would mother think of me now?” Hyde finishes his statement with venom in his tone.
By Creation Studios8 years ago in Horror
My Grandpa’s Death Record
When my grandpa passed away, he didn’t want to be buried. He also didn’t want to be cremated and have his ashes kept in an urn or thrown off the side of a mountain or into the sea. You see there’s this company that compresses your remains and make a vinyl record from them. You can have just about anything printed on it. If want you can record your own karaoke rendition of Don’t Fear the Reaper played by the carbonized remains of your mortal form. Personally, I kind of found it a little creepy. It felt like you were having your body preserved by a taxidermist then having yourself mounted in a rocking chair forever.
By Isaac Shapiro8 years ago in Horror
The Circle of the Scribe
"Reality is dull. It's limited, which means we're confined to what we know and what we see. It means we can hope to find things beyond our current limits, but we never will. That's what fiction exists for. Just a way for us to live our dreams without leaving our chairs. Or at least that's what the circle told me..."
By Sophie Walters8 years ago in Horror
The Lady of Mist
He walked down the foggy parkway with the dim street lamps in the evening. His head was down and his hands were nested in his black leather jacket. The trees were jagged and dying and the mist had enshrouded every inch of his path. However, his vision was never so clear as when he approached the cemetery. The haven for the dead was the only place which the fog did not envelop.
By Kourtney Risher8 years ago in Horror
The Emotionless Eye
It was a sultry and misty night of September 24th, 1924; it had rained significantly hard for the past few days, turning the woodland floors muddy and revealing many of the tree roots from the loose dirt. A farm hand by the name of Gabriel McCoy and his loyal companion Brodie, a large black Labrador whom Gabriel took good care of since he was a young pup; Brodie would keep raccoons and possums away from the house usually bringing back one of the critters in his mouth and burying it under the porch after a successful hunt. Gabriel was also a bit of a hunter as well, hunting and selling deer hide in this days off of Schröder farm for spare money. They lived on the weekends in a small wood house big enough for two people in a lightly wooded area in northwestern Scotland.
By Elijah Trouba8 years ago in Horror
Lampago Part I
In a spartan, yet squalid living room of a spartan, yet squalid apartment, a cat poked its head through a gap in the cardboard-sealed window. It oozed onto the filthy yet barren floor, silently skittered towards a duct-tape upholstered couch, and leaped up onto it. The liquid animal seeped in between duct-taped cushions, and disappeared. Behind that miserable, tape-mummified couch in that miserable living room was a door leading to a miserably small bedroom.
By Stanton Fink8 years ago in Horror
The Worst Days of My Life
Day One: The Note Once a year on the cool, dark, and early morning of September, Alyssa would stand there listen to the wind whistling in her ear. Today was the anniversary of the death of her parents, it's been six years since she had last seen and spoke to them. Ever since she was ten, she lived with her grandparents. Her grandfather, who fought in the war, and her grandmother, who was a nurse during the war. Over the years she had lived with them, on top of the hill, in the mountains. She learned things like combat moves and how to make medicines and herbs.
By Breanna Caldwell8 years ago in Horror
The Long Way Home
I turn slowly to look around the tree trunk in the hopes to catch a glimpse of what it is. Also to see where exactly it's looking. In the event I need to make an escape, I know where not to run. My hand starts to shake a bit. My nerves are trying to get the best of me. Trying to, ever so slightly, move as to not give away my position to this thing. Eyes wide open, I finally see the creature making the noise.
By Melissa Ann Wright8 years ago in Horror
The Highway
The cold was intense. The rain fell with a brutal force against the dark, slick highway that didn’t contain many street lamps. A dark-skinned girl—petite and strong—walked along the highway. Her clothes were soaked with blood and rain, and shredded as if she’d been mauled by something with large claws. The speed that she moved could be compared to that of a snail or turtle. Through the bullets of rain, an old yellow light shone brightly from behind her, making her curvy, shadowy silhouette a moving shadow as it approached fast.
By Kris Walker8 years ago in Horror
