psychological

Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.

Sweet Dreams
It oozed from his body, seeping out like a thick slush; not quite solid but the consistency not so much like a liquid either. He touched the now open sores covering his body, unable to believe his eyes.
By Sam Vera5 years ago in Horror
Alice in Wonderland
By Rick Hartford The old Ford pickup creaked up the dirt road near the river and stopped. Two men got out and stood by the cab for a moment, the smoke from their cigarettes drifting into the air like souls departing the newly dead.
By Rick Hartford5 years ago in Horror
My Wilted Flower
Like the wind that howls at night, she would too. It was an eerie sound that always chilled me to the bone, and left me often very wary of my surroundings. I’d stop my work at these times, pressing my finger tight against my pen. The paper’s always marked with my nervous moves. Fear would fill my soul.
By Sam Vera5 years ago in Horror
Little Black Book
“Katie!” My mother shouts, “Could you come down here please!” I sigh but make my way down the stairs and find her in the kitchen leaning against the island that dominates the room, reading an official looking piece of paper.
By Mary Pappas5 years ago in Horror
The Climbing
The Climbing Grey stairs. Lucy is climbing. Walls on the first floor - yellow, lacquered and smooth. There are six doors in rounded hallway. Doubt increases in her. Where should she go? She only hears quiet whispering echo: ‘’Everything is simple…’’ She is pushing shadows in defiance, already tired. How much time has passed?
By Obrenija Novkovic5 years ago in Horror
An invoce from death
I reckon one of the gears needs to be changed. And all these disgusting and stenching grease, all over me; has left me estranged. Away and beyond from any kind of humane thinking. Though why do I ought to feel those humane traits, towards and out these diseased leeches? But what am I writing for God's sake? I have become blasphemous towards what I am ready to give more of it, in spite of spite—they'd honour me, despite. I remember as I try to write the suffocating grease away! That I wasn't like this... But there's no soap for this industrial stench. There is no way out of this dooming toil!! ... But to simply be part of it and—conform.
By Michele5 years ago in Horror
Pen-pals
The old wooden door opened with the scraping and creaking that comes with age, from the warping effect of many rainy days followed by warm ones. Its maroon paints flaked and a few pieces fell off as one of the things entered. In one corner of their little room they sat. They knew what it meant if a thing came in: they wanted something. Commotion began in all of the other rooms too, the bleating chatter of a group working out what is going on, or what may be coming. Its footsteps sounded wet, which fitted with the drumming of the rain on the roof, and the small stream being allowed in by the crack in the corrugated panels. Where it fell it made a small path on the soft floor.
By Jamie Allen5 years ago in Horror
Curiosity killed the Cat
Bye Jo, I’m going to miss you I whispered. Too scared to say it loudly in case he heard me! I turned and waved, licking my lips imagining what it would be like to run to him and kiss him just like Whitney did in The Bodyguard. “Oi, you going to stand there staring into space all day? Some of us have a plane to catch” said an old lady who looked like a cross between Mrs Shrek and Nanny McPhee. She was about 5ft tall with a slight hump on her back, skin that looked like a shammy leather, arms like popeye with a red angry boil on her nose. She was carrying two worn out leather bags, one in each hand as she barged past me to passport control.
By Rachael Cumberbatch 5 years ago in Horror
The Granting
A crackle of thunder snapped Raziel awake from his much needed rest. 5:55 slightly illuminated his bedside meanwhile the dark motel room was eerily quiet. Deathly still.
By Aisha Brown5 years ago in Horror
The Book
The lone lightbulb swayed incessantly from the ceiling even though there was no breeze: the only window had been painted shut and wouldn’t open with the most stubborn of tugs. Rain streaked the dirty panes of glass, cast down from a morning sky full of dingy clouds. Stacks of cardboard boxes occupied space beneath the window, beside a serviceable twin bed, and a microwave and small coffee maker sat on a worn-out horizontal dresser -- but that wasn’t enough padding to keep Ethan’s voice from echoing off the bare walls of the small, square room.
By Joy Holmes5 years ago in Horror
Little Black Book
Moira Lark had a near perfect hand. She thumbed her large stack of bills. With total confidence, she pushed all the money onto the table and said, “Straight flush.”
By Matthew Krasula5 years ago in Horror
Richard Penny
Palm Beach can be warm in February, but it wasn’t today. Overcast and cold droplets brought a chilly morning South Florida. Low 50’s never looked good on palm trees. Priscilla, my friend, often insisted on brunch at Le Bilboquet, ordering eggs benedict with a side of country ham. The drive from West Palm, to me, never seemed worth the drive. The weather was never nice when I had time for the beach, and I could never afford more than a bagel and OJ anyway. Even after parking, the rain continued following me down Hibiscus Ave to Worth. I decided to travel light that miserable, gloomy morning with only my phone, wallet, and keys stuffed in my old jacket.
By C.J. Goodin5 years ago in Horror