Horror
Heartbeat
I hear the grandfather clock ticking louder and louder from the front hall, even standing outside on the porch. Or was it simply ticking slower and slower? That clock had been the heartbeat of our home as long as I could remember. It seems only appropriate it would wind down slowly, today of all days. I knew today was the day it would stop.
By Karen Haueisen5 years ago in Fiction
The Thing in the Forest
The cold wind buffets my already frozen face. My harsh breaths turn to icy fog, only to be whipped away by the wind. In the darkening night, bony hands reach from the ground and attack, grabbing at my vulnerable ankles and trying to bring me down. Shadowy figures surround me, too tall for me to see their tops, and their long thin fingers stretch towards me as I run as fast as I can to avoid being captured and returned to that Thing. I rip my body away from the figures that seek to harm me. I can’t feel any tears dripping down my face, but I know they must be there.
By Hayley Roberts5 years ago in Fiction
The Bull Comes at Night
I remember it clearly as if it were yesterday. The stuffy, congested air, the flickering incandescent lights above and to either side of me, the smell of body odor and faded take out from the local Chinese restaurant, the pain of standing upright for an extended period; the claustrophobic feeling of being surrounded by strangers with a common goal. At the time, completely irrelevant, but now a reminder of better days. It's funny of the things you remember before you die.
By Rain Dayze5 years ago in Fiction
Light at the End of the Tunnel
Freddie awoke face down in a soft, spongy muck. As he stood up, he could see a faint, greenish glow in the distance. Where am I? he thought as he took a look around. It was dark, but the faint, greenish glow provided enough light for him to make out that he was inside some sort of tunnel. The walls seemed to consist of a tangled web of thorny vines. Freddie looked down to see that he was ankle deep in the sticky brown muck that covered the ground beneath him.
By Nicholas Kleinhenz5 years ago in Fiction
Glimmering Green
For the past 3 years, I have worked as an orderly in a particular rest home. I won’t say its name or mine because even though I feel the need to write this down, I also know there are good folks still working there and I don’t want their reputation to be impugned by association with me. Anyways like every job its had its ups and downs, but for the most part, it has been fine and my time here has been no different than what you’d expect it to be like. I make sure the residents take their medicine and eat their food, I try quickly to respond to any emergencies, I clean up after them, and I try to keep the less mentally put together ones from walking around without clothes. Like I said, simple, standard stuff...for the most part.
By Steven D Kaplan5 years ago in Fiction
Keep Away from the Hills
The wrinkles of Pap’s face scrunched together as he squinted at the horizon. “Chartreuse,” he said after deliberation. “I’d say it’s more of an emerald,” said Pop from the neighboring rocking chair, picking bits of toffee from his dentures.
By Micah Delhauer5 years ago in Fiction
Cracked
There's something that hits different, moving to a new town. Especially after being pushed out by bigoted extremists, anything was better than 'happy valley', even if it landed us in small town Montana. A fresh start for Claire and I, where no one knew us, and we could assimilate to everyday life.
By Candace Burningham5 years ago in Fiction
