The Shadows That Lurk
In the silence, whispers creep, As shadows stir while others sleep. A chill runs down the spine so bare, The air grows heavy, thick with despair.
The Shadows That Lurk
In the silence, whispers creep,
As shadows stir while others sleep.
A chill runs down the spine so bare,
The air grows heavy, thick with despair.
Eyes dart, yet nothing is found,
Just darkness spreading all around.
A heartbeat quickens, racing fast,
As if the night itself will last.
Footsteps echo in the hall,
A ghostly presence, cold and tall.
But when you turn, no one’s there,
Just the feeling, in the air.
What is it that makes us fear,
The unseen things that disappear?
Perhaps it’s knowing deep inside,
That the unknown, we can’t outride.
About the Creator
ziad alsed
Exploring tech and culture, I delve into AI’s impact, sustainable innovations, and digital balance. I also examine shifting media narratives and trends that redefine our lives. Join me in uncovering how these forces shape our future.
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More stories from ziad alsed and writers in Horror and other communities.
Phantom Lights of Hollow Hill
The Phantom Lights of Hollow Hill On the outskirts of a quiet town, there is a place known as Hollow Hill, a forgotten hilltop that rises like a shadow over the village. The locals avoid it, especially after dusk. Stories about the hill have been passed down for generations, whispered by firelight and told with a trembling voice. They all share one thing in common—the haunting of the phantom lights.
By ziad alsed10 months ago in Horror
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