Horror

Nois
Like the titanic we thought our world was unsinkable. We thought our monuments would be everlasting. We thought our technology would save us. We thought we were so damn smart. In an instant everything we built was erased. First came the firestorms sweeping through and strategically burning away our food sources. The Amazon was decimated by cancerous flames this created an oxygen crisis which wiped out 80 percent of all life on the planet. Soon after, came the "Lights". Flashes of brilliant and beautiful lights rose from the earth. They spared us, and for a time we rejoiced. Then what rose from the lights gave us no doubt, Humanity was over.
By Recongt5 years ago in Fiction
Is There Anybody Out There
“...I guess it’s like Bukowski said, 'The days run away like wild horses over the hills.' I don’t even know what day it is. To be honest, these days you don’t really keep track. It would be an exercise in futility, and you’d be driven all the madder for it. The act of living itself prolongs your suffering just enough to remind you that hell is a physical place. It’s real. It’s here, wherever 'here' is. This place used to have a name... Wisconsin, I think, back when we used to be a country with nice clean borders. No more borders, no more place names. No more Wisco. No more U.S. of A.
By Jim Ro5 years ago in Fiction
A Day on Death's Door
It was a warm Thursday, or at least I thought it was. Time has been hard to tell since “the incident”. In fact, she should be back by now my wife that is. Her name is Laura and mine is Steven. It has been just over 5 months since the outbreak happened It started when an asteroid hit the earth. Most humans went underground, the ones that were too poor to go were killed. Nearly all animals and insects were wiped out. I go to grab breakfast and realize we have nothing. Well, I guess it is time I look for my wife. “Laura, do you read me, over.” I was starting to get worried, she had always answered her walkie talkie, even sometimes before I finished speaking. Come here Killer! Come here boy! That was my dog Killer, he was a German shepherd that was just over 5 years old, he was a guard dog of sorts. Me and Killer head to the garage to get on the bike, I could feel Killer knew I was worried. When the apocalypse started, we had put improvements on our bikes so that killer or even another person could get on and pedal without any issues. We get on the bike, and we ride for a mile or so when we spot the first corpse, there were no shortage of corpses These days. “WOOF BARK GRRRRRRRRRR WOOF” “what is it boy!” he barked like this whenever he saw food. That is when I noticed it and piece of bacon and a small can of dog food. To say I am starving is an understatement, I had not eaten in a week and a half, that is why she was gone. And now so was the food. It was already in my belly; I used the bacon as a spoon and ate it. I only thought of Killer when I heard him whining. “Oh no, what have I done. Killer has not eaten in a few days we saved the dog food for him and that too had run out. Suddenly he I hear him bark again, but this time it was not food, it was a sprinter, and he was coming right at us! I saw Killer jump on like leg and bite with all his might I grabbed a metal rod I had put in the bike seat and clobbered him. Then I heard a lot of groans, and I turn around to see a bunch of walkers coming at us and the corpse on the ground was turning as well. “Get In Killer! We have to go NOW!” It had seemed that we were free when another horde surprised us. One sprinter ran onto the wheels of the back tire. That made us fall over. “KILLER RUN!” he looked back and then he ran. I Tried to fight them, but one metal rod was no use for the zombies. I got bit and a random zombie that had snuck up behind me. I was thinking “It was over, I hope Lauren is okay” I lay rest. After about 10 seconds I notice a heart shaped locket one of the walker’s neck. The same one I gave Laura for our 5th anniversary. No, it cannot be. “LAURA!”
By Christian Frenette5 years ago in Fiction
Mom- Out Looking For You. STAY PUT.
Mom, Didn't want to wake you up. Going out for supplies. Please stay here until I get back. Wish me luck. And don't come after me, I'll be okay on my own. I left Big Bertha in the corner and I took the prostitute gun that Uncle left us. Why he had a little garter gun in a pearl satchel, I'll never know.
By Brittni Rhone5 years ago in Fiction
Forged
If I licked my lips I could taste the words that had just spilled out. It would taste of lightning and ebony. A thick sentiment had drug itself outward before my teeth could catch it. Now too far away to pull back, I lifted my gaze to her dormant face.
By JD Rose5 years ago in Fiction
Beagles and Birdbrains
In the moment I knew I was going to die, it wasn’t my whole life that flashed before my eyes, but the memory of my first job, right after graduation, with my newly minted Masters in Science. The assignment was to teach birds the wrong song. From incubation in the egg to maturity, we played recordings of the oriole song to robins, and the robin song to phoebes, and the phoebe song to the wood thrush. Success was measured by the confusion of the young male birds, and if they actually sang the wrong song, we broke out the champagne and promptly euthanized and dissected the subjects to discover what havoc we had wrought upon their little bird brains. We learned nothing, but no matter. We met the conditions of our funding. The question was always can we do it, never, should we?
By Kozinka5 years ago in Fiction
Hope beyond hope
Everything seemed to fall apart so suddenly and without warning. In less then 72 hours since the initial reports of the plague there were widespread blackouts and hysteria that flooded through the streets as the fragile infrastructure built on the connectivity of the internet failed. Cell phones were basically rendered useless, a mere fancy pocket calculator that couldn’t make a call or send a text. No one knew exactly why the internet seemed to shut down in the middle of a crisis. Some talked about this around campfires having to relearn how to do things without the use of electricity. Some speculated it was the blackouts making the internet impossible, others that it was martial law that had been enforced. But everyone agreed that nothing would ever be the same and most would never see their friends or family again.
By Jim Kane5 years ago in Fiction
Aluminum Metalized Polyethylene Terephthalate
The worst part about the Genetic Incorporations Statute (besides the headache it caused the freelance filmmaking community) was the glitter. Being one of only a small handful of approved, mandatory substance inclusions, glitter was a necessary evil. Tinsel, Beryl found, was too flammable around the rendering engine, and she couldn’t tolerate the heat generated by plushy fabrics.
By Maisie Krash5 years ago in Fiction
Mr. Odoratore
Saturday had finally arrived, erupting with the clamor and volume befitting a house of four excited boys under the age of 10. Two of the four boys had risen with the sun and donned mismatched Halloween outfits. Micah, who was seven, helped dress the youngest, Barry, who was four, and together they entered mom and dads still-dark room, revealing themselves first to their groggy mother, who upon making out their shadowy figures; bathed in the yellow light of the hallway through the cracked bedroom door, said something properly motherly and encouraging.
By Clint James5 years ago in Fiction
Dead Society
Allen knelt down and brushed the red earth caking the corner of the battered wooden box. Everyone gathered around him, enthusiasm dancing off the clustered bodies as they awaited the reveal of the hidden contents held within the historical artifact. With a little exertion, the box creaked as the ancient hinges holding the box together opened for the first time since it’s burial. Silence ushered in as all eyes focused on the box’s interior, the shadows dissipating to shed light on several unexpected items bunched in its small confines.
By Alisia5 years ago in Fiction
Porcupine District
When I was a kid I used to read these comic books written by the guy who made “The Simpsons”. The strip was called “Life in Hell”, about Los Angeles in the 80s. The main character was a talking rabbit named Binky. He had a bastard son named Bongo, born out of “jungle passion”. I always liked that phrasing. Driving around town at sunset often made me feel the same way. All those pretty lights.
By Jack Boger5 years ago in Fiction
Lifeless Impetus
Another wave of pain washes on the shore of my psyche. I can only remember pain. The endless pit in that is my stomach echoes out another trumpeting grumble. All I can remember is hunger. Is that all? Is that what I am? Pain and hunger? No, I remember, I remember something else...
By David Brandy5 years ago in Fiction