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.
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
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 Delmas6 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
The Echo in the Floorboards
The house on Miller Street didn't look haunted. It didn’t have sagging shutters or a bleeding foundation. It was a crisp, mid-century modern ranch with floor-to-ceiling windows and honey-colored oak floors. Elias bought it because it felt "transparent." After a messy divorce and a cramped apartment, he wanted a life where nothing could hide.
By Asghar ali awan8 days ago in Horror
That House
The beautiful house made of white and green marble was, as always, the center of his attention. Twelve-year-old Naseer stood absorbed in gazing at the tall, magnificent building. On its façade were engraved clear words: “Firdous Bar-Zameen”—Paradise on Earth. When he had first read those words, he had asked his mother about their meaning.
By Sudais Zakwan8 days ago in Horror
The Weight of a Secret
Arthur was a man who prided himself on his silence. In the small, salt-crusted village of Oakhaven, he was the local locksmith a trade that required nimble fingers and a closed mouth. People brought him their locked diaries, their rusted safes, and their heavy oak chests, and Arthur opened them all without a single question.
By Asghar ali awan9 days ago in Horror
