Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Horror.
Living in the In-Between: What My ADHD Feels Like
I didn’t wake up one morning and think, Today is the day I realize my brain works differently. It happened in pieces. Small, quiet realizations that stacked on top of each other like unread notifications. It started with an alarm. Not because I didn’t hear it. Not because I slept through it. I heard it. I looked at it. I thought about getting up. Then I stared at the ceiling wondering if cereal or eggs would take longer. Then I wondered if I still had eggs. Then I remembered I never washed the pan from yesterday. Then I checked my phone “for a second” and somehow twenty minutes disappeared. My body stayed in bed. My mind went on ten different field trips. That’s when I started to suspect something wasn’t just laziness. I tell myself every day: Today I will be productive. Not in a grand, inspirational way. Just simple goals. Shower. Answer two emails. Eat real food. Fold laundry. Four tasks. That’s it. Yet somehow, I start by organizing my sock drawer. Why? Because I went to grab a shirt. Noticed socks on the floor. Sat down to pick them up. Found a pen. Wondered where that pen came from. Started looking for its matching notebook. Ended up sitting on the floor scrolling through my phone. Still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Still hungry. Still no emails answered. But wow… my socks look amazing. People say, “Just focus.” I wish they knew how funny that sounds. I want to focus. I crave focus. My brain, however, treats focus like a cat treats commands. Sometimes it listens. Sometimes it stares at me and knocks everything off the table. There are moments when my brain becomes a laser. I write for three hours without blinking. I clean my entire kitchen in one burst. I solve problems quickly. I feel unstoppable. Then suddenly… it’s gone. Like someone unplugged my motivation without warning. I don’t know when it will come back. I don’t know how to turn it on. I just sit there, frozen between wanting to move and not moving at all. It feels like being stuck at a green light while everyone behind you honks. Grocery stores are my personal obstacle course. I walk in with a list. Milk. Bread. Rice. That’s all. Ten minutes later I’m holding candles, gum, a notebook, and a plant I absolutely do not need. Why do I own so many notebooks? Because I believe each one will magically turn me into a new, organized person. It never does. I leave the store with everything except bread. Every. Single. Time. Conversations are another adventure. I try so hard to listen. I really do. But my brain starts building side quests. Someone says, “Yesterday I went to the mall.” My brain says: Oh yeah, I need socks. Did I pay my phone bill? I should drink more water. I wonder if penguins have knees. Suddenly they ask, “What do you think?” I panic-smile. “Yeah… totally.” I have no idea what they just said. Growing up, I thought I was broken. Teachers wrote: “Smart but careless.” “Needs to try harder.” “Daydreams too much.” I believed them. I thought everyone else had a manual for life that I somehow lost. Why could others sit and study for hours? Why could others remember homework? Why did simple things feel heavy? No one explained that my brain wasn’t lazy. It was wired differently. ADHD isn’t just distraction. It’s emotional, too. I feel things loudly. Excitement becomes obsession. Small rejection feels enormous. Criticism echoes for days. At the same time, I can forget entire conversations. Not because I don’t care. Because my brain misfiles information like a messy computer. People assume forgetting equals not caring. That hurts. I care deeply. Sometimes too deeply. The day I learned about ADHD, something shifted. Not everything became easy. But everything made sense. I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t broken. I was different. Different with strengths. Different with challenges. Different with a brain that moves fast and zigzags. Now I build my life differently. I write things down immediately. I use alarms for everything. I break tasks into tiny pieces. Not: “Clean the house.” But: Pick up clothes. Wipe table. Wash three dishes. Three dishes is better than zero. Progress doesn’t have to be perfect. Some days are still hard. Some days I scroll instead of start. Some days I forget important things. Some days I feel behind everyone else. But I remind myself: I am running a different race. And I am still running. Living with ADHD feels like living in the in-between. Between chaos and creativity. Between exhaustion and inspiration. Between struggling and shining. It’s messy. It’s frustrating. It’s also full of imagination, curiosity, empathy, and ideas. So many ideas. I’m learning to stop asking: “What’s wrong with me?” And start asking: “How does my brain work best?” That question changes everything. I am not a failure. I am not broken. I am a human with a fast, noisy, beautiful mind. And I’m still figuring it out. One unfinished to-do list at a time.
By Behind the Curtain5 days ago in Horror
Dusty Bones
A rickety worn shack swayed ominously as a malicious wind tore after it. A fevered cry from the weathered boards fell upon an old man’s ears. He paid it no mind however and continued to stare forlornly out the shattered panes into the ocean’s depths below. An internal battle raged through his mind as a lone candle flickered threateningly. “All alone… everyone’s gone… my fault.” His tattered memory danced across his lips as his ghosts relentlessly tormented him. One peering inside the shack may mistake him as a lone ghost himself, for his pale and frail bones looked skeletonized from his fever crazed state. He stands at this fractured window and stares at the sea, haunted always haunted.
By Mikayla Decker 5 days ago in Horror
Lose The Roses
New Orleans, 1925 Gazing out her bedroom window while wishing on the brightest star in the night sky, Stella tracks her mother’s stealthy traverse into Mrs. Hawthorne’s immaculate rose garden. Rows upon rows of roses, all colors and sizes sway in the evening breeze, a sultry dance. Their perfume fills the night air, peppery and sweet. The lustrous blade of mama’s pruning shears shines under a full moon, glinting. Why Mama steals Mrs. Hawthorne’s roses, she doesn’t understand.
By Cathy Schieffelin5 days ago in Horror
That Terrifying Night
I was in a hurry to reach my village on time, so I left home in the afternoon. I assumed I would reach before evening, but fate had other plans. In a deserted area, the bus broke down. At first, the driver and his assistant tried to fix the fault themselves. When they failed, the assistant was sent to a nearby town to call a mechanic.
By Sudais Zakwan5 days ago in Horror
Killing him slowly. Top Story - January 2026.
There’s an intruder in my house again. He stumbles through the door, wet carrier bags in hand. He’s bought me offerings. I show my appreciation, letting him caress my beautiful body. He wants to touch me. I rub myself against his legs. He sighs, dropping the bags. He can’t resist touching me. Running his hand slowly down my spine, I arch my back towards his caress, let out a low purr. It’s what we both need.
By N J Delmas5 days ago in Horror
Ajit Pawar: Power, Controversy, and Influence in Maharashtra Politics
Ajit Pawar: Power, Controversy, and Influence in Maharashtra Politics Ajit Pawar is one of the most influential and controversial political figures in Indian politics, particularly in the state of Maharashtra. Known for his sharp political instincts, administrative experience, and decisive style, Ajit Pawar has played a central role in shaping state politics for decades. His career has been marked by rapid rises, dramatic political shifts, and continued relevance across changing political alliances.
By America today 5 days ago in Horror
The Revenge of the Dead
This story takes us back fifteen years, when Asif and Rizwan were medical students. One day, while studying human anatomy in class, their teacher announced, “Dear students, after the upcoming two holidays for the Islamic festival, I will take a full test on the human skeleton.”
By Sudais Zakwan6 days ago in Horror
Reasons I (and everyone else) Would Be Burned As A Witch
The events in Salem were but one chapter in a long story of people being hunted, tried and killed for acts of witchcraft. Although, arguably the most famous, the Salem Witch Trials occurred late in the sequence, with hunts and executions beginning in Europe, around 1330.
By Loey Buiskool6 days ago in Horror
Enter the Dracula: The Bruce Lee Effect in Hong Kong Vampire Cinema
The Dracula Effect in Hong Kong Cinema: Part I The Bruce Lee Effect In 1973, important factors insure an unholy collaboration between East and West cinema of horror. In England, the end of a successfulbrucelee.jpg run of Hammer films about Dracula and the undead causes producers to look toward Hong Kong at the internationally success of kung fu films. Add the death of the first international Asian action superstar, Bruce Lee in the summer of 1973, and an opening gap was created in international cinema as the search for the next Bruce occurred. "No other figure in Hong Kong cinema has done as much to bring East and West together in a common sharing of culture as Bruce Lee in his short lifetime" (Tao 110).
By SAMURAI SAM AND WILD DRAGONS6 days ago in Horror
