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Stories in Horror that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
April 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.
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Horror
The 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…
By Iris Harris3 years ago in Horror
Last 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.
By Colt Henderson3 years ago in Horror
Revenge Is Sweet
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. And I couldn’t have been more pleased. Peering from the cloudy depths of the rippled glass was Janice Holbrook, my nemesis, my archenemy, my bully. And she deserved it. No one could deny, she absolutely deserved it.
By Ahna Lewis3 years ago in Horror
The Caretaker of Cavendish Manor
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. She had the same brown hair, same blackheads, same tired eyes looking back at me, but somehow I knew she was a fake. It was in the expression on her face, as if she was keeping a secret. I scoffed at her, spraying the antique mirror with some cleaning solution and wiping it with a cloth. The rest of the parlor’s furnishings were shrouded in dust covers. I thought it best to keep them covered and only use what was necessary.
By Leslie Writes3 years ago in Horror
