supernatural

The hidden world of all things supernatural; a look inside witchcraft, spells, vexes, black magic and other spine-tingling supernatural phenomena.

He's In a Better Place
The feeling of being watched. That's what she'd describe it as. Alice looked across the lake's placid surface, searching for the source. A dark sheet of glass with a soft bob and sway. No swimmers, it was October now and much too cold to get in. Not even a boat broke the calm surface. The far end of the lake was surrounded by a collection of hills and crags that cast a shadow over its lush pine-covered bank. The trees were in generous bunches until a certain point--then they pricked out at odd angles like toothpicks. She stared for a few seconds, her eyes trying to make sense of the illusion. They were sticking out of the water, she realized. The tops of the trees stood tall and sharp but around mid-trunk they disappeared eerily beneath the water's surface.
By R Mill4 years ago in Horror
No Swimming
Daniel sees his wife in her bathing suit running towards the lake. He sternly warns her not to get in there. “Honey, you know that there is no swimming allowed in the lake. Please don’t go in there.”
By Tyrone Livingston4 years ago in Horror
Vanity
The woods were dark and eerie, breaks in the treetops giving way to the moon’s gentle beams. The silence of the late summer’s night was broken by petrified screams and footsteps as they thundered through the air. A young man sprinted through a small clearing in the woods, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. His bare chest being scratched up by thistles and pine needles as he ran through them.
By Juniper Woodstone4 years ago in Horror
Founder's Fountain
An atmo-blimp passes over head. Its digital banner scrolls, “Mother Angel Arrival in One Day - Check your Eligibility Now.” Hopeful young women stop in the streets. Their yearning faces crane towards the sky, desperate for their monthly visitation. They beckon to the holographic angels descending with babies in their arms.
By Jessica Berkmen4 years ago in Horror
The Night Lulu Cried
AIIIIYYYYEEE!!! – the shrill shriek pierced the stormy fall night over the crack of lightning, booming thunder, howling winds, and the crashing Lake Talula waves. The soundwave silenced the Northern Vermont wooded terrain. Visiting fishermen and campers paused their revelry only to dismiss the whimpering cry of some misfortunate animal.
By Jeremy Christopher4 years ago in Horror
Lake has waves
That day didn't happen. The night had soaked itself into the hours and that feeling arose again, this unstable, gnawing feeling of intense need. It was itching underneath my skin, crawling and growing. Attaching itself to my bones, chafing. I stumbled back on the sand, pulling myself consciously away from the shore where the shrill of cold touched the digits of my feet. Pulling me from my hallucination, Emry wrapped her fingers around my arm, fake nails digging into my skin, I stepped further backwards. "I think we should all go to bed, have an early one."
By Madison Dell'aquila4 years ago in Horror
Serene Rex
Serene Rex The boots in the corner are his or were his and she has been ignoring them since she came back to their summer cabin. She sat in the car for an hour before coming inside but the sun was starting to go down and she had already lost the day. Her desire was an early morning arrival to get this place ready to be sold. She was sure it would be a mess outside but this was not the case she thought the basement would be flooded but Nathan’s repair seems to be holding.
By Whitney Davis 4 years ago in Horror
In a Cave by the Lake
The ferric smell of Farmer Ralph’s blood mixed with the funk of ripening cheese. Stout, sturdy, and sporting a crew-cut, this overall-wearing woman in her late sixties kept a stone face. She had a machete in one hand and pressed her other hand against her bleeding hip.
By J.S. Kohout4 years ago in Horror
Seven Times Seven
Yes, it is nearly 2330 hrs. October 30th, 2021, about forty-nine years ago, I sat in this same place. That night thirteen of us sat by this small lake and placed in the rushing stream. We drank large amounts of whiskey, rum, and associated alcoholic beverages, including some awful-tasting aged beer from India.
By Bruce Curle `4 years ago in Horror
Dark Water
She hadn’t recognized the boy in the first dream. No, not a dream, a nightmare. All the other nightmares that followed went the same way. She saw the boy, whoever he was, on the beach looking out at the ocean. Standing in the waves was something best described as a creature. The creature very much resembled a human, but had too many inhuman qualities. The skin covering this creature was grey, and prominent blue veins. Their fingers were webbed and their hands had nails that looked sharp and long. She never did see the face of the creature, and she certainly hoped she never would.
By Chelsey Staples 4 years ago in Horror
Nannuck - Grief Giver
~*~ My mother was a brilliant artist. In my earliest memories, I see her paint-splattered and smiling. From the mural on my bedroom wall to the still life in our dining room, the house bore her essence in every brush stroke. But no painting captured and retained more of her than Nannuck. Nannuck was her oil masterpiece, the product of nearly two years’ labor. The canvas drank her up like the cactus hoards water in the desert. What she created was incomparable. The painting was dark, with the illusion of light hidden just behind it. Lake Nannuck stretched nearly the length of the five foot canvas with only hints of the shores and wooded banks around the edges. The real substance was in the center of the lake. Her subtle impasto technique added a depth that was disconcerting to behold. So many shades of gray and charcoal intertwined to create a living entity, that lake. There, beyond the fog that appeared to be rolling gently over the water - there were the shadows.~*~
By Killian4 years ago in Horror
With Every Beat of My Heart
Drip, drip, drip, drip. Slow, steady, insistent. It came as an echo, as if within a cavern. It even chilled the air, that sound, that feel. It followed him from room to room. No time of day was spared. It came with the same pulsing rhythm, the same dull slapping. At first he thought a leaking faucet or remnants of a summer storm. He checked for worn washers, loose drainpipes, unattended-to cracks in the old roof. It was none of those. They called in plumbers and home inspectors, heating experts, roofers, and bug exterminators. None could locate the source. Indeed none could hear the drip, drip, drip but him.
By John Ouellet4 years ago in Horror