Horror
The End
This was the end. He knew it. There was no doubt in his mind, he would live out his last moments in this dilapidated old barn. He checked the door once again, it was securely locked, the bar in place. There was no way whatever it was out there was getting in at him, not this time. Was it really what it had looked like? The fur, the teeth, the sheer size and bulk of the creature that had savaged him that couldn’t possibly have been what he thought it was.
By Dave Rowlands5 years ago in Fiction
Rigor Mortis
Monday 5.15pm I am tired. My head is heavy. I walk towards the station. Nearing in the distance I hear the click clack of the electronic station gates, those blind little demons that suck our tickets into their bottomless voids or spit them out and let us pass. I admire their burning intellect, to know which ones to swallow and which to spit! The inexhaustible force that propels the tickets through the electronic gates is like the force within which I am carried towards the train station, towards the train. I walk into this vortex like a zombie, roboticised, lobotomised. The lights are on but nobody’s home—brain numb—unaware of where I’ve been or where I’m going, only vaguely aware of this force hurling me toward my destination.
By Anna Bennetts5 years ago in Fiction
A Murder Of Crows
Another day was being annihilated by the creeping hand of approaching dusk and the 12 crows flew toward the old red barn. With keen eyes and the blue-black sheen of their feathers, the wise birds found a perch. They surveyed the area and locked their gaze upon the open front of the barn. After some squawking, shaking and a little hesitation, they all flew into the big structure.
By Carl Parker5 years ago in Fiction
Keys and Cake
Previously, Part 1: From A Distance Part 2 Dear Diary, I’m far past the place where I can distinguish what is or is not a silly idea. I just want to say that there’s something distinctly comforting to me in carrying around this old-fashioned room key.
By Paula Shablo5 years ago in Fiction
The Homestead
I never intended to return here. As I drove down the bumpy lane I realized I’d been holding my breath, my knuckles white as I clung to the steering wheel with a death grip. I put the radio on, hoping to calm myself with the latest summer hits, but somehow the channels were scrambled and an angry male voice spat fire and brimstone through the crackling speakers. I turned it off. I didn’t need any more reminders of my destination.
By Angel Whelan5 years ago in Fiction
Footsteps
The sun sat low in the west when Kyle arrived at the house for the first time. The wrap-around gravel drive arced beneath a massive oak that had begun to shed its leaves, and a cool breeze set some dancing down to the shabby lawn. Kyle began to open the side door of the Econoline van when his mom interrupted him.
By Anthony Criswell5 years ago in Fiction
The Bunker
Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of tiny drops of water ripples through the dark hallowing room with a chilling echo. Shallow breaths shivering in the cold. They knew not of the time that had passed. Nor did they know what remained of the world they once knew. The innocent few survivors of a cold and cruel war.
By Wolfie Rose5 years ago in Fiction
Failing Inspection
Flipping the folder open; the first thing she looked at was the small photo of a black and white house. Adol gave a little sigh as she picked it up and took a closer look. Two stories, four bedrooms and a small backyard. It was run down and had chipped paint from the looks of it. Rubbing her temples, she placed the picture down and picked up the report. Adol’s job was to go in and inspect the building to see what needed to be done to make it livable again. It was common for people to buy, flip, and sell old houses that were abandoned. Being an agent who travelled across the states, it was an excellent opportunity to see unique and out-of-fashion models of homes that were built throughout the ages.
By Turan Turnip5 years ago in Fiction
