Top Stories
Stories in Horror that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
The Swimming Pool
Clementine watched the sun swaying like a drunken dancer from the bottom of her parents' swimming pool. It was July: the slow, gold-colored time when the heat felt mean spirited, and the air felt thick with possibility. If she focused, she could hear the neighbor mowing his lawn. She could hear the drone of the cicadas and cars passing her parent's house on Magnolia Avenue, lent an almost otherworldly quality by the chlorinated water filling her ears. Clementine checked her watch. Seven minutes. She should have lost consciousness by now.
By Daniel Bradbury11 days ago in Horror
Dead Asleep
At 23, I moved out of my parents’ old house, finally on my own, free. Even though I was moving into a tiny studio apartment, the euphoria of escaping that oppressive house was liberating. The strange experiences and nightmares my sister Eva and I had painfully endured as children in that house faded into the past; after her funeral, I suspected it had something to do with those nightmares. I never wanted to go through that again.
By Barb Dukeman12 days ago in Horror
An Adventure Through Hell
Emaciated arms covered by the tiniest bit of flesh capture me, holding me close to its decaying form. Gnarled and thin fingers pull my dark hair. Screams of anguish surround me, somehow reverberating from the empty chasm. I punch and watch as bits of grey flesh disintegrate into dust. Scratching at the caverns where its eyes should have been, I could only hope for an end to this hell. The sounds of torment continued, assaulting my ears with one tremendous roar.
By Isabella Rose14 days ago in Horror
Twisting Through the Doorways
A grand bronze-coloured staircase leads nowhere. It is adorned in dim and sensual lights, the golden glimmer of the chandelier adding elegance and richness to the room. This is the biggest room in the unknown home. A house made of multi-sized doors leading to multi-dimensional rooms. Some exist in daylight, some exist sideways against child-like postered walls.
By Oneg In The Arctic16 days ago in Horror
At the Sheltering Doors
The doors, they always scrambled for the doors first. When they arrive and always by night it was a race to desperately bar the creatures entry to the house in the slow crawl of numb feet that the dream would impose upon him. He never seemed fast enough and the creatures uninhibited by the same constraints always made the doors first. The houses in his dream-scapes vary night to night - Some are mansions, others shacks and some are distorted contortions of his childhood home which burned down when he was ten. But the doors are always the same – frail, loose hinged and never could be fully shut. The creatures too vary – twisted and corrupted forms of animals and people familiar to him: family dogs preternaturally swollen to twice their size with rotting coats of mange and slicked damp with dark liquids of decay. The people too were bloated vestiges of ones vaguely familiar to him but whose names escape him. Their eyes gorged wide with dark blood which streaked their mottled faces in crusted trails like lost rivers which hung from their chins swinging in ropy columns beneath paling yellowed teeth. To let them break through would mean death. This he knew with grave certainty. At the door was desperation and panic as their stench emanated forth, sickly and pungent like vomit and mold and ending in a gruesome exhalation like cancer, the stench sticky and clinging invading his nostrils and lungs never to be expunged. Then in the sudden waking he never knew if he repelled them or not.
By Kevin Rollyabout a month ago in Horror