monster
Monsters and horror go hand in hand; explore horrific creatures, beasts and hairy scaries like Freddy Krueger, Frankenstein and far beyond.
Dear Diary...
August 2nd, 2139 Dear Diary, It is the second day on the moon now. I am sitting in my bunker, alone, while the others all go exploring this new place, but I just can’t make myself go with them. I assume that this awful dread in my stomach that feels so heavy I can't move is simply because I miss home, Earth, and the memories from there make me feel horrible with homesickness, despite the condition we left it in. I still remember those days when birds still sang songs to the morning sunbeams and trees swayed and danced to the music of nature. I am crying now: I can't even explain the regret I feel gnawing at my insides from how we killed our planet and our people and abandoned them. I can see Earth from here: a small orb that is dull blue and green with red and white stains smeared across its surface from the oil and pollution- and maybe the spilt blood from the War. I don't even know what to say here about the War, just that I don’t even remember it because my mind has refused to let me witness those memories again. What I know is that 75% of the 30 billion people were slaughtered in the wild rush for power and resources, when the Plague of Red had started claiming far too many people, and it had driven them all mad. The Plague of Red had arisen about 30 years ago, before I was born, when a radiation spill had killed everyone in Europe, and the Plague had mutated from the ruins and those who caught it were driven by a passion to kill. I was born into a world of slaughter and pain, so how am I not used to it? I can't say, but now, having just stepped off the Heart Shaped Locket, the last spaceship left on earth, I feel even worse than I did on earth. I should be grateful to be alive, to be one of those lucky refugees that got a pass to escape my waring planet, not even a full persent of the population, but I'm not: I am terrified because I feel like I've just stepped into something much worse. What is wrong with me?
By Olivia Gyuran5 years ago in Horror
The Firefly
The firefly would visit him often. Every night after his bath, the boy would scamper down the hall and into his room. The firefly would be waiting for him. Each night it hovered just outside his window, wings fluttering, its yellow glow flashing gently.
By Scarlett Locke5 years ago in Horror
Green Thumb
Green Thumb By Charlie Jolliffe The house sat in the end lot in the deepest cul-de-sac in a long, winding subdivision. It was bordered by an impossibly thick forest that had somehow survived all attempts the surrounding city had made to steal away its land. It was a quaint cottage style home, not enough to impress the country club types, but with the right landscaping it would certainly impress the ladies at the Garden Club. That is all Sharon cared about anyway.
By Charlie Jolliffe5 years ago in Horror
Alesha
I was married once. For three years. Quite literally the longest three years of my life. I met my wife Alesha in the most basic of ways that we have for meeting new people these days; at a bar. A few friends and I were out to celebrate my best friend Jordan’s accomplishment in passing the bar exam. Most of them got piss drunk, but I sort of babysat my drink all night. I’m not really sure why, I was just as thrilled and proud of him as anyone else. I just felt a bit….off. Some time getting close to last call, I noticed the most beautiful woman I have ever seen was looking at me. ME. I’m not un-handsome I suppose, but I’ve never been one to get strange women’s attention. Generally I have to be the one to initiate contact, and I always, ALWAYS screw it up somehow, without fail. Something in my brain tells me, “pretty girl! Tell her about the grossest possible thing about you. Right now. No? Ok, spill her drink on her and then accidentally touch her breasts trying to get the drink out of her shirt. She’ll DEFINITELY assume you’re trying to cop a feel. But it’s ok, DO IT.”
By Rii Pierce5 years ago in Horror
Post Apocalytic Aquarium
Chapter 1 – A day at the aquarium Sebastien sat at the counter. Gloomy, dark and grey as usual outside the aquarium. He lazily sat his two feet upon it as he gently leaned back in his old wooden chair. His only and best pair of brogues scuffed at the toe but still holding charm.
By Kyle Casey5 years ago in Horror
Chain and Hook
Chain and Hook By Mark J. Wilcoxen I've been hunted by this monster for as long as I can remember. In fact my earliest memories are of it clanking around under my crib. Not being fully able to talk I cried for my parents who were quick to enter my room and soothe me. In those early years I only ever heard it, mostly under my bed. On occasion it'll be in my closet. The common underlier was the clanking of metal against metal; similar to a normal clanking of a chain, but different at the same time. There was a maliciousness to the sound that is hard to describe.
By Mark J. Wilcoxen 5 years ago in Horror
The Princess
How did The Princess take control of our message board, if only for a few seconds? It didn't make any sense. Our message board wasn't a video game. Our message board pulled all its information from the Internet. The Princess was already inhabiting a game at the same time. All the rules we thought we knew, all the things we thought kept us safe had failed us. Could she have done this at any time? Could she do it again? Were there any real limits to what she was capable of?
By Aditya Choudhary5 years ago in Horror
The Investigation of Mr. Blakesly
I: The Evidence My suspicions began on a Monday after I had been sent to the headteacher’s office for a small fight in class, one that I won, mind you. Whilst waiting to be seen to, I couldn’t help but overhear his conversation with two police constables; a pupil two years below me—I was in year 10—had been killed on Friday, mutilated even, presumably walking home from school as he was in uniform still. Horrifying was the information I had heard, and queer I found it how Mr. Blakesley seemed to be in control of the conversation, riddling and questioning the police himself at times; he even managed to get information out of them, when one would think it ought to be vice versa.
By Charles Robertson5 years ago in Horror
