Horror

Chained Down
The chain of her locket made her red, swollen fingers throb with a dull ache. Holding the chain with one hand, she ran the heart-shaped pendant along the links in a practiced motion with the other.
By J. Campbell 5 years ago in Fiction
Jobz
It had begun as a timewasting app, which quickly grew into a fad, and then a phenomenon. Jobz, the app to entertain through dares, had taken the world by storm. Those using the app could issue challenges, either publicly or privately, for others to perform and if the person completed the task, they were paid a sum of money the challenger offered. Others could chip in money as well, increasing the amount and daring someone, anyone, to take on their challenge. Because these “tips” would increase the total prize offered, they often goaded others to take on the challenge, meaning the task would become a frenzy and the first to complete the task and post it would win. Sometimes the tips pushed the prize into lottery levels.
By Timothy Radke5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Account of Mr. Daly
“Sir, the blasts destroyed most of the house, but we recovered what personal belongings we could,” the rescue officer said. His hand clapped down on my shoulder, rattling my frail body. I could barely see him through my glazed-over eyes.
By Mary Sweet Mary5 years ago in Fiction
Eden’s Path
Snapping her eyes open, Margaux hastily claws at her rucksack, feeling for the imprint of a heart sewn into the lining. With a sigh of relief, she unties her waist from the tree before standing up on the sturdy branch. As she stretches and wiggles out the kinks from her awkward sleeping posture, Margaux inspects her surroundings with wary apprehension. She could have sworn another presence was nearby while she was sleeping. After another probing search, she glances at her wrist compass before shoving some stringy pocket jerky into her mouth. Taking her rope, she wraps it around her bed-branch before cautiously rappelling down the trunk. Once on the ground, Margaux has a swig from her canteen and sets off with renewed determination. Based on last night’s progress summary, she may be able to make it to her new bunker before nightfall.
By Kelsi Yotka5 years ago in Fiction
What Now?
Nothing.. there’s no other way to describe it. I see nothing, I feel nothing.. There’s nothing left. Nothing, and no one. Except me.
By Dalton Boggs5 years ago in Fiction
Mommy's Boy
Under his mother's thumb from the day, he is born. Mark, a 45-year-old man who still resides at his parent's home. He never knew his father. That man fled when Mark was born. His father was incapable of understanding his wife's mental state, and he could not cope with such a responsibility. She is eight months pregnant and bipolar, and her moods can be very Jekyll and Hyde. One minute nice, the next evil. And, because of the stress, his father dated different women behind Mary's back. When she found out about his additional lovers, she flew at him with a knife. Finally, the family physician, Dr. Brown, admitted Mary into a Mental institution, where she gave birth to Mark. The child's life commenced in foster homes until she is deemed suitable.
By Deborah5 years ago in Fiction
Not on my new carpet...
Turning, I strode to the doors of the chapel and cast them open. It was close to noon, the street leading to my little church was empty. The main street some ways away was busy enough, for a Tuesday. It all seemed..... wrong. Boss fights were supposed to happen in the middle of the night shrouded in darkness that lent to the monsters' power with rain pelting the hero making things all the more difficult.
By I.T.O. Tails5 years ago in Fiction
Chasing Echoes
I looked down at the heart shaped locket that has been around my neck for as long as I can remember. This has been my talisman when my mom died; before all of this started. Before the world fell apart and my biggest problem was I had a bedtime. Terrible things like I was forced to eat vegetables or I had to do homework; I wish those were still my problems. Instead we are in an abandoned house that you can tell was once somebody’s family home that is now destroyed. Ransacked by the original family in their attempt to escape. Pictures and clothes construed throughout the hallways. Pantry had been completely disheveled. It’s a two story Victorian style home with cracked paint on what was once a blue awning. This was once a home of a doctor or someone prestigious.
By Marissa DeShields5 years ago in Fiction
Hunger
The apocalypse is well and truly in swing, no planes fly overhead, no cars drive on these once busy roads and food is scarce, so very scarce and the shortage only seems to be getting worse by the day.
By Jupiterclaw Theface5 years ago in Fiction
House of Endless Days
Food never spoiled in that kitchen. I once left a gallon of milk on the counter and, when I returned to throw it away, condensation coated it still. In the same span, the orchids in the library had blossomed and wilted. That was four days for me. I don’t know how long it was for everything else.
By Robert Currer5 years ago in Fiction
Drifting
The engine dies somewhere around Seattle - not with a bang of smoke, but with a final choke on its very last fuel. Andy isn’t even surprised. After the hellish couple of days they’ve had, this might as well happen.
By Amanda Fernandes5 years ago in Fiction
The Scream
It startled me awake. My hands automatically gripped the beam beneath me, even though I could not remember where I was. How had I allowed myself to close my eyes? Thankfully, some part of me had remembered. It would have been ridiculous to have survived so long, only to have met my end so carelessly. What would it have all been for?
By Whitney Theresa June5 years ago in Fiction