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.
The House on 24 Street
Midnight. Thick dusky moonlight bleached the strictly white cracked dirtied walls. George stood there, his yellow trench coat, a mucky darkened colour, hung from his small arms like a man who had committed suicide, but hadn't struggled to fight against it. He was tired at this point; tired of running. The very thing its self seemed to be something he craved the most. Tired... A single drip could be heard in the far distance, however George seemed to feel it was a faint voice laughing at him, playing with him. Drip... His eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room, George softly hummed a song his Mother used to sing when he couldn't sleep as a kid. It was a song he couldn't remember the first time he heard it, had just always been there, always resting in his mind. Always...
By Horror Shorts By William Skeet8 years ago in Horror
I Made a Wrong Turn
Fresh, cool air fills your lungs as you trek through the seemingly never ending expanse of brown and green. The warm sunlight filters through the leaves on the various massive trees surrounding you and the sweet, earthy scent of decay and plant life pleasantly tingles your senses. The river nearby rushes past like cars on the freeway, yet it's subtle, calming sound puts you at ease. Birds sing high up in the treetops and the chatter of squirrels can be heard as your feet lead you to a destination only your heart knows.
By Nova R Nyx 8 years ago in Horror
Help (Part 1)
An ending seems so far away, until it happens. Regret? Remorse? Reflection. Memories of happier times, broken hearts, and tears of laughter. Memories of growing up. Mum and Dad how they should be. How a family should be, and what it was like growing up. You were happy, young, and free. Fond memories of weekends away with your parents in a tiny caravan in the middle of nowhere, dreading getting a shower because of all the creepy crawlies lurking in the corners of the communal bathrooms. Watching the news at 6 o'clock with your mum and dad next to you to keep you secure and warm. Excited for the next day just to see them again.
By Josh Swales8 years ago in Horror
Night Shift
The echo of her four--inch stilettos bounced from wall to wall in the dark corridor, the musky smell of damp trying to overpower her liberal spray of Chanel perfume, her crisp white lab coat displaying her name in blood red embroidery on the left breast pocket. She pushes hard on the double doors and blinks in the bright florescent light shining overhead in the hospital basement. She stops to take in the sight in front of her, ten standard hospital beds all lined up against the far wall looking like white marble dominoes laid flat. The room was an average size operating theatre and held all the equipment you would expect in such. She got to work reading each file slowly to ensure she had all the information needed. Each bed held a male ranging in age from 18 up to 70 and they all looked petrified, as most patients do in hospitals.
By Michelle Bridges8 years ago in Horror
Cavity
Her fingernails scrape my thighs as she tries to hold herself up, hooking her fingers to my leg for support. A guttural moan slips out; drawn as she arches her back, eliciting a chorus of ear splitting pops and cracks the further she goes. With a free hand she grips her jaw, moaning and screeching as she continues to twist and turn, disregarding her breaking bones as she does so. I consider kneeling down, and maybe trying to un-twist her myself; but instead I just watch as she writhes on the floor, my friend cradles her crooked head and neck.
By Aleixa Gagnon8 years ago in Horror
Camille
I only come out when the sun goes to sleep; that's when dark and mysterious things happen. I've seen many things. I'm as old as the Earth itself, for I was created at the same time as our planet. I see the night, and I watch everything ominous. Such was last night.
By Brandi Espy8 years ago in Horror
Flashes
I got in the shower, letting the hot water wash over me. Looking down I saw blood; it covered the floor. It looked as though it was clogging the drain, I closed my eyes trying to unclog it, but all I wanted to do is gag at the metallic, copper smell. I finally opened my eyes to dry and the water was clear. I turned the water off hesitantly watching the water drip from the tap.
By Tara Harrison8 years ago in Horror
Born to Die
The lights in the city began to set to a dim glow, as though they were the eyes of God beginning to close after the long day of watching over civilians in the city of New York. It was as though the night was a symbolization of the last visitation. That night was the end of the relationship of a woman, a beautiful woman, named Candice. The only way I could describe her complexion as a woman that men would best describe as beautiful and extravagant, with hair that reached an exquisite length, passed her shoulders, with a tone of Autumn and eyes that are like a brown pool of melted chocolate that twinkle in the sun and moonlight. Candice always wore amazing white dresses that represented her purity and class, as well as her bright white smile. She’s beautiful, and unfortunately, I had to leave her on the day of February that resembles intimacy and affection between passionate couples and married individuals. It was valentine's day, and due to the circumstances of my career life stood in the way of our burning love and devotion; I had to leave her. Our love was like butterflies crawling against the skin every single time our lips touched. That day, as I broke it to her, she took it as a kiss that impaled her heart with a look of shocked melancholy. She gazed at me with such confusion, and despair. She barely was able to stutter the words the words, “Steve, you’re leaving me on Valentine's day?”
By harold hart8 years ago in Horror
The Shawcrux Massacre
Andrew sat at the table, his mind racing with feelings of a dreaded nostalgia. He placed the letter he had written on the small wooden table. It was a cold and rainy December night. The rundown walls of the shack provided only a facade of cover from the storms. The sound of rain hammering down on the rusty tin roof drown out all other noise. The light of the lantern flickered, casting ghastly shadows on the walls. Andrew had never liked the woods, yet here he sat, in a rustic shack in the middle of the dark forests of upstate New York. He reached into his pocket, feeling the cold metal of the .44 in his pocket. He drew the gun and stared blankly at it. After all these years, this was how it had to be. He knew what he needed to do. Andrew checked the chamber one more time, as if some specter may have stolen one of the shiny brass bullets. He wondered if anyone would find him, all the way out here. As far as he knew, he was the only one who knew where the shack was, besides its deceased previous owner. The thought of Mr. Ed made Andrew shudder. It had been years since he last saw the old man. Andrew slowly set the gun down on the table and pulled a small black notebook and pen out of his coat pocket. Shivering, he began to write, and recount what had happened all those years ago......
By antonio rizzo8 years ago in Horror
