Jason “Jay” Benskin

Joined May 2024

419 stories

Bio

Crafting authored passion in fiction, horror fiction, and poems.

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Achievements (2)

Stories (419)

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It Knows You’re Reading
You were seven when you first saw it. — Not clearly. Not all at once. Just a shape in the dark, standing in the doorway.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Poets
Feast of the Unmade
I woke in silence, thick and deep, A womb of rot where dead things creep. The air was bile, the walls were thirst, I was the last, I was the first.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Poets
Ash and Ember
Beneath a sky of fractured gold, where time is dust and stories fold, the wind still hums forgotten names, etched in the earth like phantom flames.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Poets
The Unwritten
Beneath the weight of time untold, where silent voices turn to gold, a whisper lingers in the dust, a name uncarved, a fate unjust.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Poets
Grandma’s Cast-Iron Cornbread
Grandma’s Cast-Iron Cornbread: A Legacy of Love and Resilience Food carries more than just sustenance—it embodies history, tradition, and memory. One dish that has been a cornerstone in my family for generations is my grandmother’s cast-iron cornbread. It wasn’t just a side dish; it was the heart of our gatherings, a humble yet profound symbol of resilience, love, and survival.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Feast
I AM NOT ME
I should be dead. Every night, I wish I was. But instead, I am here. Trapped. Screaming. Buried in the reflection of a man that isn't me.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Horror
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑
𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 You hear it first—a click, a tone, A voice that speaks inside your bone. Not from the screen, not from the air,
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Poets
The Drowning Bed
It sloshes when no one moves. It breathes when no one should. It waits. — The mattress shifts beneath your weight, A sluggish pulse, a thing that waits.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Poets
The Mirror Knows
I told myself it wasn’t real. The glass, the shape, the crawling feel. But mirrors lie—they twist, they cheat, And something waits where shadows meet.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Poets
The Rotting Verse
You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have read. It knows your name. It knows you’re dead. — It started small—a tickle, a twitch,
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Poets
📸 Through the Same Lens
Elliot tightened his grip on his camera as he and Marcus stepped into the abandoned house. The air inside was thick, damp, and wrong, carrying a scent that wasn’t just dust and rot but something deeper—something wet.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Fiction
The Sleepless One
The treatment was supposed to optimize sleep cycles. Instead, it erased the need for sleep altogether. Forever. Evelyn had gone thirty-two days without rest. Her body should have failed. Her mind should have shattered. But she was awake. Too awake. Awake enough to see them.
By Jason “Jay” Benskinabout a year ago in Horror