fiction
Horror fiction that delivers on its promise to scare, startle, frighten and unsettle. These stories are fake, but the shivers down your spine won't be.
Water Bottle
I entered the classroom a little bored. Today we were revising a few things in order to prepare for the final exam and, even though I was a little worried about my recent productivity, I simply didn’t feel like listening to the teacher. She was really intelligent and I usually liked her lectures, but today, I just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. I want to clarify I was not depressed, I was just not in the mood.
By Kether Diaz6 years ago in Horror
The Sound Beneath The Floor
Start writing...Abigail sat on the couch, her comfy spot. Her husband, Derrick, sitting across from her, in the ugly green chair. She hated that thing, but Derrick had wanted to keep it, saying it was his and nobody else would want it.
By Tammi Brownlee6 years ago in Horror
The man in red
He came to our town, wrapped in red cloth and smelling of lavender. Atop a black horse he rode in, met with suspicious glares and cold shoulders. The man in red entered that, now, empty town which once prospered in the valley, below a steep cliff face, towering over our small homestead. I can see it now with my waking eyes, the man in red and the nightmare he hosted atop the mountain.
By Maximillian Kennedy6 years ago in Horror
Reap
I turned my attention from the crowds to my brother. Just like all the others his eyes were awash with excitement as he too in the stands and crowds of dancers. He plucked two sticks of some grilled meat from a vendor with a smile and handed one over to me. I bit into it hesitantly, shocked by how flavorful the first bite was. I devoured it quickly, which brought laughter spilling from my brother’s lips. Being dead was not what I had expected or theorized. Everyone seemed so happy, unhindered by the reality that they all were dead. The anger that I felt earlier when I tried to hold onto those shreds of darkness and my worldly life flared through my body again. I gripped hard on the stick I was still holding in my hand, snapping it in half. Nobody seemed to notice or if they did they were just as unbothered by my anger as their current predicament. Even Shaun walked ahead of me, his step light as he led me out of the festival area and down a much quieter side street.
By SharonSharpe6 years ago in Horror
Vampire: The New Beginning
It was a Saturday morning, early going on 9:00 a.m. The light filled the room where me and Sidney lauded. I could hear the birds chirp and the breeze made the trees rustle against the window. It's really peaceful and quiet in the country not a lot of people live here so you can take your time to admire the beauty of the flowers and the fresh smell of the grass. I loved the way it smelled around here. It made my nose tingle. I always....wait..wait.WHAT!!!!! How the hell can I still smell and hear when I'm dead? I thought when you die you DIE that's it. I'm laying here admiring the smells like a little homeless lady. This can't be real. There must be something or someone playing a prank on me. But the more I think about it the more absurd it sounds, I mean really someone playing a prank in the afterlife, stupid really.
By Trey Richardson6 years ago in Horror
Rabbit Holes and Misconceptions
Alice never thought it would go this far. “Alice no….” she thought to herself, biting her lip stained dirty crimson. Alastor was her friend, companion, or in a simpler more direct term, her partner. Sure, they may have bickered constantly from time to time, I minor fight here, a slight homicidal tendency there. What is a few bloodstained, wrapped in generous layers of duct tape between close friends anyway?
By Robert Wilson6 years ago in Horror
All is Far, All is Near
The wind blows as the trees sway back and forth, like nature performing an elegant waltz. The house is quiet, nothing is in motion, not even the air. The living room filled with the light of a nearby table lamp and fireplace light, is as average as the home itself. The occupant of this estate, however, is far from it. The home at 1820 Sleepy Lane, is owned by a man of very unusual tastes and fancies. Crane is a man of medium stature, no different than the average man in town, but with eyes like panes of broken glass.
By Robert Wilson6 years ago in Horror
