Horror

The Only Ones That Despise My Work Are The Platform. Content Warning.
Introduction The music is "Perspective" by Peter Gabriel because this is my perspective on my Vocal situation. As far as Vocal is concerned, this is a work of pure fiction.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 9 days ago in Fiction
Compound Growth
The first thing Marcus noticed was Derek's skin. It wasn't dramatic—not at first. Just a certain smoothness to his colleague's face during the Monday morning standup, a tightness around the jaw that hadn't been there Friday. Derek had always been soft, doughy in that way of men who'd stopped caring somewhere around their second divorce. But now his cheeks held a new geometry. His neck no longer folded into his collar.
By Destiny S. Harris9 days ago in Fiction
Concerning Certain Irregularities
I endured Oliver Crane’s injuries exactly as long as I intended to. After that, it became inefficient. He never insulted me. Oliver preferred implication. He specialized in the sort of harm that could be explained later, if necessary. Delays justified as diligence. Doubts framed as responsibility. When asked directly, he smiled and said he only wanted what was best for everyone involved.
By SUEDE the poet9 days ago in Fiction
₩hen ₣⬭rbidde₦ ⎣⭗v∑ Drew ⚬n〰 In₹xplicable ✧〰 🔫 ₮∈⊂hη⭔↳⭔ℊγ T⚬⇴Carry ⚬ut the ₮∈☈☈ible ⊅∑structi⚬n ⚬f 🅱isbee, 🅰riΖ⚬na
⚡🌵↯~Located in the Mule Mountains of southern Arizona is the Sonoran desert. In the Year of Our Lord 1880, troves of minerals & metals were discovered in that rocky terrain by a prospector named Judge DeWitt Bisbee.
By Lightning Bolt ⚡9 days ago in Fiction
Happy VD. Content Warning.
Something was definitely wrong. I’d always laughed about burning piss, but holy fuck, this was no joke. My dick felt like it was on fire, and not in the good way. I’d been on the prowl a lot since Debbie dumped me, tagging a groupie at every gig. Best way to get over one woman is to get over another few.
By Harper Lewis9 days ago in Fiction
Dead and Wearing Green. Top Story - February 2026. Content Warning.
She was wearing that green dress when I first saw her, five years ago to the day. Flowing meadow fabric draped over long legs, thick auburn hair flowing down her back. That smile. Of course, she is still beautiful now. But now she is no longer alive.
By Karen Cave9 days ago in Fiction
What A Clown. Top Story - January 2026.
I heard of the jokester in town. My staff was afraid to share the tales, for they knew the stories infuriated me and punishment was my expertise. I inflicted many types, and excelled at using sharp objects and heated “instruments.”
By Andrea Corwin 9 days ago in Fiction
The Wickfield Husbands
I thought I was lost, when I suddenly saw the sign, Wickfield Rhode Island, and I turned my wheel to exit the interstate. I felt butterflies in my stomach, as I didn't know what to expect. However, I was on my way to the job interview of a lifetime, and I was elated and apprehensive all at the same time.
By Susan Payton9 days ago in Fiction
Day 7
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been six months and four days since my last confession. Father, I have hurt others in the most horrid ways. I have blindly killed people, many people, even the most innocent, in the name of war and…for money. And I have disrespected my mother and forsaken my family in time of need.
By Gail Winfree9 days ago in Fiction
In the Dark
Icy blue eyes stared at me through the darkness. The fact that I could see these eyes so clearly in the darkness sent shockwaves up my eleven-year-old spine. I had just woken up from a rather intense nightmare, incidentally about some creep that was watching me at the foot of my bed. ‘’I can see you,’’ I whispered.
By DJ Robbins9 days ago in Fiction
She No Want No More. Content Warning.
GENRE: Hard Horror, Rom-com TRIGGERS: Blood, Sexual Undertone She No Want No More —Penultimate and viscosity are words that I hate.
By Gagarin9 days ago in Fiction
A Night Painted with the Scars of Hate. Content Warning.
Steam clouds emanate from the sewer grates like puffs of smoke spilling from the listless mouths that pass on the street. His nose turns away at the slightest hint of smoke; the smell clings to his clothes like children grasping for toys in displays. Opening the door to a discreet shop along the burgeoning street, he files inside to a world utterly alien to him. His eyes darted around the interior store with its neon signs advertising paraphilia in bright, abnormal colors. The walls must have been wrapped in leather dyed by the night sky. Corvids decorated the walls as if they were suddenly going to attack the puppies on leashes, or those meant to resemble them.
By Thomas Bryant9 days ago in Fiction