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.
All for the Best
“I’m sorry, Danny. I am so, so sorry.” He just stared back at me in silence, those empty eyes drilling future nightmares deep into the roots of my brain, his lips parted in a half smile that made him look like he’d just gotten the punch line of some stupid joke. Blood dripped off my hair and onto the floor, staining the carpet. I don’t remember how it got there. I don’t remember how I got here.
By Travis Daniels7 years ago in Horror
Occam's Razor
It’s strange. Waking up doesn’t feel right. Even now, as I stare up at the pale ceiling of my bedroom, the feeling of exhaustion is still set deep inside my bones. I’ve been awake for about an hour, unable to sleep after the horrific nightmare that woke me. I can’t remember most of it. Only flashes remain, but the details are simple: I am in a bed, tubes protruding from my body, and a sound emulating around me. It fades in and out, and no sooner do I open my eyes to the early light of morning reaching through my window.
By Emery Ravenwood7 years ago in Horror
Venomous Pain
The aesthetic of old Hollywood was something I grew up emulating until my teen years. Actresses like Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor and even Bette Davis were among the many women starring in the late night movies I'd sneak into the living room to watch while my foster parents were asleep. I wanted to be just as sultry as Marilyn, just as witty as Elizabeth and just as talented as Bette Davis. Unfortunately for me, I had zero skills as an actress and gave up that dream along with all the others that died along the way as we grew into adulthood.
By Sharlene Alba7 years ago in Horror
Treading Water
They are sleeping, just sleeping. This is what Llorona would tell herself when she closed her eyes; gaping mouth, black night, too tired to remember to forget. Her babies, her seven angels and all seven of her deadliest sins, had died peaceful, their skin unbroken, their mouths closed against any chance of a scream. They hadn’t struggled when she scooped them from their beds. They had not cried out when she submerged their impossibly small faces in the tub she had bathed them in just hours before. They had known it was not the boogeyman, a bruja coming to drag them away into the night. The skin that grabbed them smelled of vanilla and chili powder, the arms had smelled like their mother and so they snuggled closer to her chest, even as she drowned them. They never had the chance to wake up.
By Aliza Dube7 years ago in Horror
Asylum 42
Halloween. It's a time for treats, costumes, parties, and tricks. This time of year represents not only a change of seasons but a change for teenagers as well. Every year, around this time, a group of costume wearing trick-or-treaters grows up. Those that developed a love for the season crave more than a candy-filled pillowcase, they want to experience the darker side of the holiday. The spirits that are said to traverse the earth for this short period of time become these teens' most sought-after treat. Still children at heart, they heed not the warnings that accompany Halloween and stumble blindly into a tradition they never really understood.
By Amy Coleman7 years ago in Horror
Beating Transgressions
1. Jennifer was late for the party. She fumbled to find her car keys in the mess that was her overnight bag. It was filled with used tissues and empty vodka bottles bought from the cheap liquor store around the corner, she was drunk and it was time to leave.
By Henry Sheperd7 years ago in Horror
Christie's Story
8. She sits upright in bed. Beaded in sweat from her clear formed brow to her twat. She had a nightmare and she knew why. She looks over to her right, and there he is, the reason she's been losing sleep. The reason she's lost so much sanity in recent months. Christie almost couldn't believe it. How could she have lost all her power? Before, douche bags by the dozen would line up with their little pricks in their hands waiting for their chance at something marvelous, something bigger than their miserable fucking lives. She exclaims in silence. How could she forget?
By Henry Sheperd7 years ago in Horror











