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How-tos for all things horror; tips and tricks to help you write like Stephen King, tell a scary story, keep the monsters at bay and more.

The Room Number 313
When I first moved near the university, I was desperate to find a place I could actually afford. Prices were insane, but then I saw an ad that seemed almost too good to be true: “Small room for rent, cheap price, available immediately.”
By subah alenzi6 months ago in Horror
The Room With No Windows
When I first moved into the old apartment building downtown, the landlord gave me one rule: “Don’t go near Room 6B.” I thought he was joking. The place was falling apart anyway—peeling wallpaper, flickering lights, and creaky wooden floors that groaned under every step. Why would one room matter more than the rest?
By subah alenzi6 months ago in Horror
The Taxi Ride I Wish I Never Took
I had always taken late-night taxis in the city, but something about that night felt wrong from the start. The rain poured in thick sheets, and the streets were almost deserted. When the old yellow taxi stopped for me, I felt a chill crawl up my spine, but I forced myself inside.
By subah alenzi6 months ago in Horror
The House That Remembers
The House That Remembers --- Part 1 – Arrival Ali was a 27-year-old traveler. He loved to visit strange and forgotten places. People called him reckless, but he only wanted adventure.
By Khan584 6 months ago in Horror
Echo Room
I agreed to the study for the money. Two thousand dollars for three nights in a controlled environment. “Just a series of psychological observations,” they said. “Mild sensory deprivation. Nothing painful.”
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Horror
The Apartment Above
James Lockwood had lived in the old building for three months before the footsteps began. At first, he thought nothing of it. The wooden floors creaked, the radiators hissed, and the pipes clanged whenever the heat came on. It was an old place, and old places had a way of whispering through the night.
By Salah Uddin6 months ago in Horror
The silence after Priya’s whispered confession was heavier than the. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
The silence after Priya’s whispered confession was heavier than the storm clouds outside. The single drip from the bathroom faucet down the hall sounded like a hammer blow. Noah stared at the greyish welt spreading like frostbite across his forearm. The cold wasn’t just skin-deep; it burrowed into the bone, a chilling echo of the void he’d glimpsed within Priya.
By Homepinx6 months ago in Horror
The Guillotine: Blade of Revolution and Relic of Justice. Content Warning.
The guillotine’s story is far more complex than the blood-spattered images etched into popular imagination. It is a tale of innovation, morality, and the shifting tides of justice, spanning from its first public strike to the final drop of its blade in the late 20th century.
By E. hasan6 months ago in Horror
The Last Threshold
It was half past eleven at night, and I was still on the road. I had been driving since morning, but a major highway accident had forced a detour, sending me down a long, unfamiliar route.
By Janalam6 months ago in Horror
The Forgotten Road
Rain pelted against the windshield, each drop illuminated briefly by the car’s headlights before sliding away into darkness. It was late at night, and the sky above rumbled like an old beast awakening from a long slumber. Arif had been driving for hours when his GPS suddenly chirped with a new suggestion—a shortcut that would save him thirty minutes.
By Janalam6 months ago in Horror
The Whisper Behind the Door. AI-Generated.
It was around 11:45 at night when I reached my cousin’s old house in Chakwal. I was travelling from Lahore, and since the bus had been delayed, I got there much later than planned. The place was on the edge of the village, a big old haveli my cousin’s family had inherited from their grandfather. I’d been there before as a kid, but never alone at night.
By Jimmy 6 months ago in Horror
The Day I Quit My Job Without a Plan
I didn’t plan it. I didn’t even think about it for more than a few seconds. One moment I was staring at my computer screen, pretending to work, and the next, I was typing my resignation letter. No job offer waiting, no backup plan, no neat little safety net — just a sudden, unshakable certainty that I couldn’t stay another day. Some choices are made with careful strategy. This one was made with a pounding heart and sweaty palms.
By Enric Milly6 months ago in Horror