monster
Monsters and horror go hand in hand; explore horrific creatures, beasts and hairy scaries like Freddy Krueger, Frankenstein and far beyond.
Someone Has Been Watching Me My Whole Life
The first time I saw him, he was standing beside my mother’s grave. Clad in a black coat, with no umbrella and an emotionless face, he stood perfectly still. Rain soaked his hair, yet he didn’t move, only gazing at her name carved into the stone. When he caught me watching, he looked up and smiled.
By Rosalina Jane16 days ago in Horror
The Giant Who Never Spoke
The rain was coming down in sheets that night, drumming on the old tin roof like impatient fingers, and I was maybe twelve, curled up on the porch swing with a blanket that smelled like pipe tobacco and my granddad’s coat. He didn’t talk much anymore-age had stolen most of his words-but stories? Those he still had. He’d lean back in his rocker, eyes half-closed, and let them spill out slow, like molasses in January.
By KWAO LEARNER WINFRED16 days ago in Horror
The Character Who Isn’t on Payroll
Posted to r/nosleep I work at Disneyland. I won’t say my department, but I’m close enough to characters that I see schedules, handoffs, rotations—the boring, logistical side of “magic.” Which is why this has been driving me insane.
By V-Ink Stories16 days ago in Horror
The Animatronics Don’t Power Down Anymore
I’m 17 and I work closing shifts at Chuck E. Cheese. If you’ve never closed one before, let me explain something real quick: the place does not go quiet after the last family leaves. The lights dim, the arcade hums, and everything smells like grease and sanitizer. You hear noises that don’t belong to anyone anymore.
By V-Ink Stories16 days ago in Horror
He wasn't Santa. Content Warning.
He wore black instead of red and he had a gaunt face. His teeth were yellow and jagged. He spoke in a dialect not of this world. There was a lot of clicking of his forked tongue when he spoke. He handed little Judy Miller a shiny red box. She took it and watched as the creature walked out the front door. She stood there a moment or two looking at the package. She wanted to open it. The present was from Santa, or so she thought. She placed it under the tree and headed up to her bedroom. She curled up all nice and comfy in her bed. She fell asleep and entered a nightmare. She went downstairs to find her parents, Stacy and Jeff butchered beyond recognition. She also found her little brother Donny; he was dead as well. She woke up crying.
By DJ Robbins18 days ago in Horror
The Screams Beneath the Floorboards. AI-Generated.
Old houses make noise. They creak, groan, and sigh as if remembering things they were never meant to keep. That’s what I told myself when I first heard it—a faint sound beneath my feet, barely louder than the wind slipping through cracked windows.
By David John19 days ago in Horror
Something Is Living Under My Bed. AI-Generated.
I used to believe monsters only existed in a child’s imagination. Sharp teeth, glowing eyes, clawed hands reaching from the dark—things parents dismiss with a laugh before turning off the lights. I believed that too, once. Until the night I realized the fear under my bed wasn’t imaginary.
By David John19 days ago in Horror
