Horror
BREEDER
My name is Will. Naming me was the last thing my mother did before she died. Sometimes I tell myself a story for comfort. In this story, my mother wanted to give me a name that was a secret message, the only one she would get through to me. I imagine that my mother looked back over her short and crappy life and thought about all the hell that lay ahead for me, and the message she wanted to pass on was Have strength, be resilient. Will. I give you Will. Sometimes I even imagine that she wanted to say something more—I’m happy you were born, Will. I love you and want you to survive. But I don’t think she actually loved me, and I know she wasn’t happy that I was born. She killed herself a couple of hours after I came into this world. I don’t blame her—she was only thirteen years old.
By Honni van Rijswijk5 years ago in Fiction
A Glimmer In The Shade
On a waning moon, the sky growls, and the clouds weep. There are no legs or tires moving about the streets. While sitting in my pick up parked in a cul-de-sack, I gaze at a house contemplating a plan to where my entry could not be detected. I turn off my wipers. I became mildly irritated by their sound, as they shriek. And then... I realized it was not my wipers that was causing the irritating squeaks. The window to the house was partially open. I hear continuous squeaks similar to rusty hinges on a door that creaks. I get out of my pick up, and neared the window and I peeked- but due to the foggy sweating window, there is only but so far my eye sight can reach. While peeping into the blinds I see red polished fingernails vertically maneuvering up and down a spine. A faint rainbow colored light trickled and glistened briefly. I felt compelled to discover what this mysterious glimmer beyond the shade.
By K. Wisendanger 5 years ago in Fiction
The Heart of the Paradox
"There are three things you need to survive in this world; food, water and a twelve bore shotgun." Looking out onto a barren street, an old woman stood at the grimy window of her musty living room, arms folded tightly. She brushed a few stray white hairs behind her ear with spindly fingers and straightened out her tattered floral dress, before making her way over to the nearest armchair.
By Peter Spering5 years ago in Fiction
Fright Night At The Museum
They all took a trip to the museum to spend the night, for fun. Instead of sleeping though, all the kids stayed up, playing hide and seek. With the facility to themselves, the parents and kids stayed up, enjoying the game that was reset many times and the new seeker was chosen. However, this wasn’t an ordinary game of hide and seek. No. All the power had been shut down, and all of them had a flashlight on them so that they could find their way. This was to make them more scared. To make matters worse, they were in a museum that was a part wax, and part evolution of scare museum; all decked out with some of the scariest things of all time.
By Brandon Austin5 years ago in Fiction
Orchid Birch
Blood dripped from her teeth and bits of flesh dangled from her fingertips as she rose from her crouched position over the lifeless body she’d been feasting on. Three more gathered, their teeth bared, the hair on their necks raised “Orchid Birch, we have a warrant for your arrest for crimes against humanity.”
By Mirinda Hart5 years ago in Fiction
Metamorphic
The street was not completely destroyed, but a chaotic roadmap of cracks had caused it to crumble significantly. Without anyone to maintain the roads, mother nature had reasserted herself, and the long dormant flora of Morrison, Colorado had sprung forth from its asphalt shell.
By Geoffrey Foster5 years ago in Fiction
Generation Doomsday
"What're we doing here, Alv? This is Big Dumb." Alvin turned to his friend Poke incredulously. "You still don't brain it? We need food, Poke. Over that way is food. Good food, smackable food, many muchs of it. If you don't brain that, maybe you’re Big Dumb."
By Travis Pittman5 years ago in Fiction
Despair
How long have we been down here? The flashlight illuminated through debris and fine mist to reveal an infinite underground railroad tunnel. Graffiti covered parts of the wall and hot pink harried strokes proclaimed “ALL IS LOST” while a sunny shade of orange encouraged “Welcome to Hell.”
By Wendy Lane5 years ago in Fiction
Sol Survivor
In the year 2051, Texico’s immigration crisis was eliminated. There were no more immigrants trying to get in. There were no more racists trying to keep them out. This was accomplished by a satellite which turned the sun into a death-beam. The death-beam got rid of all the rotten eggs.
By Victor Javier Ortiz5 years ago in Fiction
