Horror
Last Entry
My name is Sabrina. I am a writer from Madison, Georgia. This is my journal. Entry one; The Beginning of The End: It has been eleven months since patient zero walked into a Savannah, Georgia hospital with an unknown illness. Patient zero presented with a high fever, lesions on his skin, and bouts of anger. As soon as the story hit the news, the internet went wild of stories of the impending zombie apocalypse. The doctors and nurses tried to sedate the guy so he could be treated and they can try to find out what was causing the illness. Any sedation medication they gave didn’t work. He practically destroyed his room during his freak out. Not only did he do thousands of dollars in damage to the hospital emergency department, but he injured multiple hospital staff by hitting, scratching, and biting them. The story turns even more tragic when the police were actually called in to deal with this, now psych patient because nothing the doctors were doing was helping. The police shot and killed him when the patient tried to attack the police officer sent in to help. Turns out the dude was a druggie and did high quantities of bath salts.
By Bethani Sparvel5 years ago in Fiction
Shadows in the Wind
The night my father buried me, he told me, “I have to.” He didn’t cry. He didn’t smile. He didn’t bother to look my way as he wrapped spools of rope around my waist and shoulders. I closed my eyes and nodded. I understood. We’ve been here before with mom, and my brother along with his seven-year-old son. The two were buried with their arms wrapped in a hug and their hearts thumping against each other. It was the last sound they’d share as my brother whispered into his son’s ear and said, “This is our Forever Song; it’ll play on and on, and on, long after we are gone.”
By Victoria Renee5 years ago in Fiction
There are Still Parrots in Pasadena
The first thing K learned about magpies was that they were known for brutally killing small songbirds and their young. Magpies tore apart nests and destroyed eggs, often eating the young and smaller parent birds in the process. Because of this and more, they earned a reputation for being the menace of the bird world. They were considered the meanest of all the corvids yet also one of the smartest, which in turn probably inspired much of their said meanness. Someone once told K that intelligence breeds meanness. She told them that she had heard the same said about stupidity. In the end, intellect doesn’t matter. Sharp or dull, it’s still people who breed the worst kinds of meanness.
By Joseph Klammer5 years ago in Fiction
Room 408
Room 408 Mark D. Makinson The rain lightly pattered on the metal roof of the shelter. Gabriel sat on a rusted picnic table, looking out into the playground. The playground that once was a beacon of joy for so many children had now returned to nature. The slide that once shined brightly as the centerpiece of the yard was beginning to deteriorate from rust. The swings that once guided gleeful children towards heaven were now broken or hanging on by solitary chains. Gabriel looked past the playground into the crumbling skyline of the city, his city. Gabriel had not laid eyes on his home in more than four years.
By Mark D Makinson5 years ago in Fiction
We create our own hell.
I slowly awakened by the sunset's soft light coming in through the windows and the sound of ghastly grunts fading farther and farther away. Blinking a few times to allow my eyes to adjust to the surrounding, I lay on the blankets I stacked on top of one another to mimic a bed. Mattress' makes too much noise, and I'm not a still sleeper, constantly tossing and turning while asleep. After fifteen minutes, the grunts were finally gone; I decided to get up and find some food before packing everything up and moving to a new place. It's been three years since the world's governments attempted to take total control of everyone and sent rockets into space filled with nukes into the sun. Amazingly, the sun did not explode or react the way they hoped; nope, it was worse. The sun stayed shining but instead began sending nuclear fallout all over Earth.
By Adriana Perez 5 years ago in Fiction
The Sadens
On a random Tuesday morning, the sun shines and the flowers bloom. I look around, breathing the fresh air, as I step outside. I guide my way down the long, heavily guarded staircase hoping to have an uneventful breakfast. Much to my dismay, a masked guard followed me into the cafeteria. I start moving faster, trying to sit at a dusty wooden table and grab anything, before the shadow of the guard covers my plate. I am forced to eat a dull muffin for my morning meal. I take my time nibbling on the corners from the plain quick bread. The nosy guard stands above me, watching my every move, thinking me to be untrustworthy. I try my best to ignore his bulky body, but his presence is undeniable. I look at him in his fearless brown eyes with detest.
By Rita Otkupman5 years ago in Fiction
Tinyente Gimo’s Story
During blackouts, our elders would tell us scary stories, and this one is unforgettable for me. A long time ago, a high school girl got invited by her friend, Tinyente Gimo’s daughter, to attend a festival in her hometown in the Visayas region of the Philippines. We don’t know their names. We don’t need to know their names for this story either.
By Rhea Jade Sholtis5 years ago in Fiction
Heart of Disaster
After the last bomb fell, the remnants of humanity crawled out of the rubble to begin a new life. Burns, growths, birth defects, and early death due to radiation poisoning became accepted as part of the struggle to survive. The government leaders were gone, presumed to be hidden in an underground bunker. The military had deserted the irradiated areas, leaving behind the poor and homeless who had not been evacuated.
By TERRY DORTCH5 years ago in Fiction
