Category: short story
-
The Door
There are few objects more ordinary than a door. We pass through them a dozen times a day without thought. They separate rooms, mark boundaries, provide privacy. But in horror, doors carry far heavier meaning. They become symbols of fear—of what lies beyond, or of what might cross through when we least expect it. A…
-
Happy Days
A chill fog dampened the sounds of the city as I arrived, cloaking the once proud Victorian street in gloom. Dilapidated and awaiting demolition, the street had one remaining house showing signs of life. My destination. Above the door, a flickering neon sign proclaimed “Happy Days”. In the grimy window hung a lopsided sign announcing:…
-
The Lair of the Beast
Silence, heavy and invasive, enveloped me. Resting against the coldness of a wall, I took what could be my last breath. And listened. The only sound came from the pounding of my heart. Nothing from within the lair of the beast. The beast was away. But not far, foraging for sustenance. This was my brief…
-
The Missing
Those that kill, believe dead men tell no tales. But the dead can speak. They find a way. With my help, I take that message to the living. The call came late on a dreary afternoon, the grey skies and drizzle of another English winter, given up on its seasons. Inside a squad car, reduced…
-
A Deadly Reunion
Light poured from the open doorway, red neon trickling over wet pavement like blood from an open wound. An arterial thumping pounded inside my head in time to the beat of music that seeped from the party inside. I swallowed. This really wasn’t how I’d envisaged meeting her. But it had to be done. Twenty-five…
-
The Keeper
They would come for him as soon as he closed his eyes. They always did. So the answer was as simple as it was impossible: don’t close your eyes. And don’t ever sleep. George gazed at the horizon, at the exact point where the sky fell into the arms of the sea, and he could…
Peter
-
AT THE AUCTION BLOCK FOR RUPTURED SOULS (a Horror In The Hundreds short story)
[WARNING: While looking for a new story, you chanced upon the quaint shores and fertile pines of Delaware. But the First State and its unique hundreds are not for the feint of heart…] Valmar, Delaware The Creek Motel, Room 17 February 22, 1970 “Torture be more art to them than labor, blood excites their eyes.…
Threads that Bind 