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.
Paranormal Homicide
12th of August, 1984: Sarah White laid on top of the psychiatrist's Chaise Lounge as the psychiatrist, Peter King, sat beside her on his black leather office chair. Sarah White looked around the inside of the room from where she was laying from—the ceiling was painted in white, a turned off light bulb hung from the ceiling with a dark green lamp shade around it. The walls were covered in red maroon wallpaper, and just in front of her, there was a closed window revealing the busy streets of Liverpool outside. It was raining heavily that day. Rain drops were causing loud splashes against the glass. The room she was inside of was a rather small square-shaped room with a pine wooden door behind Peter King. The carpet in the room was patterned in beige and brown polka dots and the psychiatrist's desk stood nearby behind him with a computer on top of it next to a bunch of files.
By Joseph Roy Wright8 years ago in Horror
The Cracked Mirror
When the sting finally hit me, I knew I had been clipped; at that moment my wife’s beautiful face, which constantly haunted my memories, flashed across my mind. She had always begged me repeatedly to make safe choices and to return to her unharmed. Being a homicide detective, there are many things in my past that I have seen and done. Over the years, murder cases have lead me farther and farther from home. In this line of work, one wrong choice could end you. Now, I find myself lying on wet cobblestones, peering into the glassy waters of the vast darkness in the merciless ocean. Only a dim streetlight, nine or so steps away, could be seen cutting through the shadowy, gloom of nightfall displaying the bloody scene below. The intense pain surging through my head is no joke; rather it is an illusive memory to which I would love to forget, but unfortunately not possible just yet. I can feel myself slipping away into the darkness, which is engulfing my every miserable and intense breath I breathe. I didn’t want the darkness to over take me, but with what had happened today, and the events of moments ago changed everything.
By Olivia Webb8 years ago in Horror
Back Home
I wish I could say there was something that was odd about the way the night started. It was a seasonably warm April evening, starting to bleed into a cooler night. My dad was sitting in his wheelchair on the back deck looking at the night as it started to settle in. This was one of his rituals. He’d done it since my mom passed away two years ago. He wasn’t lonely in the traditional sense, he had friends that frequently visited him, and he had me, but I could tell he wasn’t the same man since the accident. I guess I wasn’t the same girl either. I wanted to take care of him, to dote over his needs; I guess somehow that gave my life validation. Dad wouldn’t hear of it though. He refused to let me become that person and insisted that I spend time with my friends. Tonight was one such night. Stella was picking me up in a few minutes for a party. I’m not even sure now who was hosting it, if it was Tiffany or Christie or Josie or any one of the endless parade of party girls at my school.
By Michael Bauch8 years ago in Horror
Likeness
For years, decades even, the thought of something else mimicking you sent chills down your spine. Not another human, or maybe, yes, another human. Mimicking your exact movement at just the right time, in just the wrong way. For some, many, this can be annoying but it takes a special soul to turn that into a panic. Fast.
By Hannah Horror8 years ago in Horror
A Kiss on Dark Lips
Steven’s life was finally going the way he wanted. His enduring battle with breast cancer was over. He survived. Nothing could stop him from feeling victorious. Not even the unrelenting roast sessions by his sister Helen, about being a man with breast cancer. Still very weak, he lays in his hospital bed excited to know what comes after. No more wires attached to his body. No more monitors tracking his every action. No more sickening chemotherapy. No more god-awful hospital food. He was finally ready to live again; and tomorrow's discharge was the start of it all. A fresh start away from the clutches of a cancer-related death.
By Ricardo Santiago8 years ago in Horror
