Horror

Wires
Gillian Albright, the lone nurse for Room D of the Slocomb Ward wiped Edward’s cannula before the first syringe went in. “I’m just purging the line before giving you this dosage.”
By CJ Francis5 years ago in Fiction
I Thought You Would Have a Scythe
You see the world as it truly is, as it always has been. It is washed out compared to your memories, though everything exists in minute detail. The vehicle that struck you, now motionless, hangs above you mere millimetres from the surface of the road. After some time spent in observation, you realise that it isn’t actually motionless at all; it only appears that way, the same as everything else. You stand up, passing through the vehicle as though it were no more solid than vapour. No other beings exist in this world, not as far as you can see. You are in the world between heart beats. This is the moment you realise that you are dead.
By Dave Rowlands5 years ago in Fiction
'Your application has been received'
“This is my hotel. Beautiful, isn’t it?” said the voice on the phone. The man in the car looked at the building in front of him. All squat two stories of its L shape. The beige paint, with faded red and teal trim harkened back to days gone past. The metal railing, rusted in spots, showed decades of use.
By Alison Demzon5 years ago in Fiction
Solitude
Once more, I am uneasy. Night has come: it’s time to sleep. This doesn’t seem like a death knell, but my nights are different than those of anyone else I know. My dreams aren’t calming, gorgeous or restful. No visions of Elysium await. My nights are filled with a deep darkness. And always, there is scratching.
By TrivialPunk5 years ago in Fiction
The Labours of Hell
Some days we wake and wish we were dreaming; others we dream of nothing but being awake. Even with our eyes wide open, it is the best most of us can hope for. Yet, few are fortunate to have the blind-fold ripped away. Jeremy didn’t know it, but he was lucky that, on this particular night, he was afflicted by the first condition. His wife was away on business and he found himself tossing and turning in an empty bed, chasing sleep. Unfortunately, dreams can not find those who are already drifting.
By TrivialPunk5 years ago in Fiction
THE RIDE
THE RIDE Tommy grabbed the backpack full of dope and headed out the door. His apartment was on the second floor, so he had to walk along a narrow landing before descending down the stairs. As he made his way across the landing, he noticed his cab had not arrived yet. With a sigh, he slowed his pace. Tonight's driver was running late, and that bugged him. Not that it was unusual for cab drivers to run late in this city. No, cab drivers were no different here than anywhere else. It bugged him because he was something of a frequent flier around here, a member of the Mega Miles Club. And he tipped big, because he always carried around fat stacks of cash. If that didn't make him a goddamned VIP, then what did?
By Jake Lane5 years ago in Fiction
The Foul Smell of Whores
The pores on her skin popped like kernels in a fire. I never once anticipated how loud that sound would be, nor did I think human skin could splatter. It's so bizarre, here we are--poking, prodding, kneading our skin, and yet...under intense flame it's as fluid as water. The pieces flew across the ground and attached to the grass like glue. I wasn't sure if it was her blood, or the evening dew shining against the fire. It was something of a rite of passage burning these whores.
By Cory DeAn Cowley5 years ago in Fiction
The Olive Trees
Kneeling at the edge of morass I am beside the girl, whose eyes loll like beachballs, below the tree with the hanging man. Scattered aground in the muck are the contents of an artist’s portfolio, and atop a mere fraction of letters which aren’t ruined.
By James B. William R. Lawrence5 years ago in Fiction
The Shadow
I could see the Shadow out of the corner of my eye, huddled in the corner of the room. It's always there. Just on the edge of my vision so I never got a good look at it. But it always seemed to take a different shape each time I tried to look at it.
By J.A McAfee5 years ago in Fiction
The Precious
I. When the wave hit it was small and most people thought it was an offshoot of Pandemic 2020 or P2020. It was no longer called Covid or Corona just P2020 because the world had basically stopped in 2020. Plus it sounded hipper.
By Vivian Marie Millan5 years ago in Fiction
The Stuff of Nightmares
She runs down the desolate beach track, breath coming in ragged, searing, wet gasps. Her feet lose the ground beneath them as she slips across the rough, loose stones. Blood seeps into her eyes from the gash across her cheek. Her knees and hands are grazed, burning from where she crashed against the gravel on the uneven ground. She needs to keep pace, to maintain her balance. She dares not fall again, though her limbs are fatigued. Adrenalin is surging and causing them to tremor with an uncontrollable ferociousness. He is right behind her, breathing hot fear into the void. She can’t see him, but he is there. He is always there.
By Sonny Mac5 years ago in Fiction
The Usher's House
“Well, that could have gone better, yeah?” snapped the older woman in front of me, splattered in mud from her mire-caked hair to her filth-encrusted boots.
By Timothy James Turnipseed5 years ago in Fiction