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Latest Stories

December 04, 2025
Horror Stories Alizah Zaidi

The Apartment That Remembers

Elias Trent signed the lease for Apartment 4B on a damp Sunday morning in October—one of those mornings when the sky felt heavy with secrets. He had moved to Hawthorne City for a fresh start, a quieter life, and an escape from the noise of the world. The…
December 04, 2025
General Stories Ben Macnair

The Silent City

John awoke not with a jump, but with a profound, unsettling lack of noise. Usually, Tuesdays in his high-rise apartment were an orchestral assault: the insistent moan of the sanitation truck, the 7:05 a.m. argument between Mrs. Petrovich and her potted fig…
December 04, 2025
Crime Stories Ben Macnair

The Shoplifter

The city was a bruise, the sky a bruised purple at dawn, bleeding into a sickly yellow by noon. Sarah knew its various shades intimately, mostly from beneath the hoods of stolen jackets or the weak, flickering bulbs of forgotten alleyways. She was a ghost in…
December 04, 2025
General Stories Tom Kropp

Shannon's Date

Recently I testified at a murder trial. My big brown Quarter Horse named Buster snorted and stomped his hoof with clear protest at the prospect of moving farther into the forest patch. It was a cool September evening with the sun slipping over the horizon in…
December 04, 2025
Crime Stories Tom Kropp

Astral Homicide Hunter

Scot put his back to the hall wall and shifted to see all three members of the football team as they approached. All three football heroes stood over six foot tall and weighed over 200 pounds. In contrast, Scot was short and only weighed 165 pounds. His small…
December 04, 2025
Flash Fiction Ben Macnair

The Mirror

Laura stepped into the pulsating nightclub, the bass thudding through her chest like a primal heartbeat. At 29, she had seen her share of wild nights, but tonight something felt different. The air was thick with smoke and neon haze, and the crowd swirled…
December 04, 2025
Crime Stories Ben Macnair

The Shoelace

The field was a tapestry of amber and gold, the dying grass whispering secrets to the wind. It was a beautiful place, usually. But not today. Today, it was a crime scene. And among the scattered debris of a struggle, a single, mundane object held a chilling…
December 04, 2025
Poetry Markus J

When Santa Comes Downunder

when santa comes down under- he would leave behind snow and thunder. he would cross scenic beaches of golden sand- instead of crossing an ice and snow covered land. he`ll would fly over dirt river beds dry- while constantly swatting away a fly. would he swap…
December 04, 2025
Romance Stories Anthony L

Mr Big

Scotty Biggs lived his life like most people. He lived in New York, in a small apartment above a little bodega that one of his friends still owns. His routine was familiar: wake up too early, make breakfast, hit the gym, work, go home, repeat. His friends…
December 04, 2025
General Stories Ben Macnair

Subjects

The air crackled with a synthetic euphoria, a blinding kaleidoscope of LED lights and projected confetti. Rex Sterling, a man carved from polished charisma and a thousand-watt smile, strutted across the stage of "The Gauntlet of Fortune." His voice, a booming…
December 04, 2025
Romance Stories Alizah Zaidi

Love In The Letters

There was something about the writing cabin at the edge of Windmere Lake that felt suspended in time. The locals said that the cabin had heard more confessions than the village chapel and held more secrets than the town library. It sat halfway into the woods,…
December 04, 2025
Crime Stories Ben Macnair

The Photograph

The air in the abandoned Jones house tasted of fine dust and forgotten dreams. Detective Miles Corbin pushed open a warped door, the groan of protesting wood echoing through the desolate silence. Sunlight, fractured by grimy windows, painted stripes across a…

The wind was howling though the trees at sixty miles per hour as if it was blocking out all noise on purpose. The rain drops as big and as round as looking glasses pelted down at lightning speed, creating a mosaic of mirror images all around me; my pale white reflection staring silently at me everywhere I looked. The sky was a never ending pit of unimaginable darkness, making me feel claustrophobic.  As I stared in earnest to find just an inch of light to guide me into safety, the storm picked up, the ice cold water from the rain seeping through me, freezing me to the bone. I stumbled forward blindly, my footsteps masked by the noise. What was happening? It was as though the world was in an uproar, trying desperately to unleash the anger and fury on anything it could find. What was happening?

As he stole stealthily down the eerily lit side street, the sense of danger and rage was like a blood curding scream of anguish. As his mood increased rapidly, the sky deepened into a velvety, black pit of darkness, gradually getting darker by the second. The only source of light was the lampposts spread evenly on either side of the road; casting deformed shadows unevenly down the narrow street.  Eugh, light, who invented that ghastly thing. Darkness is the key to everything. The screams and protests of his unfortunate victims were drown out, fading into a black hole of nothingness; where they were forgotten about once and for all. He paced doggedly, avoiding as much as possible, the beam of light being shed. If, by chance, a slither of light managed to escape its confinement to illuminate the dark presence, you would see the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid eyes upon. He was a proud creature of about 6 ft. 2, who had a mysterious aura about him. His toned muscular body was tense and rigid as he walked like a shadow amongst the pure souls of the living. He was dressed casually in a black V necked jumper, which fitted him perfectly, clinging to every curve of his perfectly toned body. Alongside this he wore opened legged jeans also black, with heavy, gothic looking boots. His footsteps were masked by the silence, the sense of dread and rage was so loud it threatened to engulf him.  Suddenly, out of the blue, came an old Aston Martin screeching around the tight corners of the street. For an instance he was caught like an unfortunate rabbit in the blinding headlights. The face of this thing was extraordinary. He had a strong jaw line with a chin that jutted out at an attractive angle. He had perfectly shaped lips which always had the hint of a mocking smile, as though everything was funny. When you looked into his eyes, it sent a shiver down your spine. They were as black as the Midnight sky, with hatred and anger pent up behind them. They were like two black holes, threatening to engulf everything.

Every window he walked past showed a role play of images. Stupid, careless humans prancing about happily without a care in the world. If only they knew. If only they felt as he did. He felt nothing. No fear. No regret. No remorse. Nothing. How did anyone live with emotions, with feelings? They make you do things you have no control over, they made you fall in love. Oh how he hated that word. There’s no such thing. It was all her fault. That one person who had ruined everything; who had ripped out his un beating heart with that cruel malicious smile spread over her face. What did his brother have that he didn’t?  He was the better looking of the two, there’s no doubt about that. He knew how to turn on the charm. Why wasn’t he good enough? God damn it. He should of finished it- No; reminiscing on the past doesn’t get you anywhere. The only way is forward, and that is where I shall go.

How he hated every pitiful human, jumping at their own shadow. Surely, if they had the choice, they would choose this? Why wouldn’t they? The cold hearted memories of his past locked away far enough that he could no longer reach them. His mind full of doom and sorrow, his blackened heart still in his chest, not beating. All of the senses heightened, the reflexes as quick as a cobra striking at its prey. The thrills of watching the crimson red blood pour from the puncture marks on some pretty maidens snow white neck. It was time. Time to have some long awaited fun…

I gave up.  All hope was gone. Every turn I took, I was surrounded. Surrounded by the quietness of the world. The wind had died down, the rain slowed to a stop. The silence was so loud, it threatened to engulf me; shouting, telling me to run and not to stop. This was the end; there was no escape, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. He glided gracefully towards me; it was as though his feet never touched the ground. My heart was pounding frantically in my ears, but I ignored it as I stared in awe at the beautifully sculptured face of my killer staring hungrily down at me, his teeth barred and pointy. He seemed to tower above me, a stone sculpture against the now starry sky, looking down on my shocked face. I didn’t even see him move, he was just there, sinking his sparkling white teeth into my neck. I heard the loudness of my piercing scream echo around me, drowning out into a muffled whisper. But no one was there to save me as my blood ran freely down the road.

His stomach rumbled appreciatively as the storm sprang into life once more. Who’s next?

***

My name is Nicole Grimason and I'm a student at university studying Environmental management and Geography. I'm 18 and I currently live in Birmingham in the UK. I enjoy writing as it is a way to express all of the imaginative thoughts in my head and I hope you enjoy reading!

 

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