Browsing Horror Stories

In The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood dedicates her famous novel to a relative, Mary Webster. Webster had survived a hanging as a witch in the 1600s New England. Upon learning about this, I wrote this story. What if, during that long night of dangling at a rope, Mary had been approached by Old Scratch and offered revenge? In turn, she would promise her soul. Drawing upon other stories I've read, I created this story of Mary Webster, historically a good and pious woman, into a woman seeking revenge, and by doing so, pays with her soul.

In the shadow of ancient Rome, an archaeologist unearths more than artifacts. A forbidden gate whispers secrets across centuries. When Iole, a modern archaeologist, uncovers an ancient Roman gate, she's swept into a world where science meets the supernatural. Alongside Lucius, a brilliant Roman scientist ahead of his time and eager to explore the uncharted, Iole unravels a timeless mystery of love, curses, and the secrets of time itself. The past beckons, and destiny awaits beyond the misty veil.

In Nero’s corpse-choked Rome, Campanula Necatrix seals its doors against the Lupercal’s black heart. No one stirs. Childish giggles fracture into throat-shredding shrieks. Mothers’ wails erupt as phantom blades vivisect unborn spawn, throats vomiting clotted gore. Then the bells awaken: cymbala anklets—bronze death-rattles forged from flayed courtesan skin—jackhammer cobblestones into crimson craters, ghost stomps pulverizing ancient bones to marrow-slurry in seismic rape-orgasms that hijack your pulse.

In 1988, Sarah Christianson went missing...

Gabriela was never meant to fall this far.

Love isn't always visible sometimes it's a dog on the brain

In the frozen wastelands of Cyberia, where machines and flesh have fused into something neither living nor dead, a lone wanderer named Toska searches for meaning in a world that refuses to let him die. Haunted by fragmented memories and dreams that feel too human to be his own, he drifts through a landscape of blood-stained snow, rusting titans, and chimeric horrors borne from a tormented imagination.

She kissed him goodbye knowing he wouldn't remember her by tomorrow. We will get to that part later. Fine, I gasp, exasperated. I do love my mother—deeply, truly—but she can be unbearably overbearing at times. It’s like living with a steamroller made of lace and unsolicited advice. She means well, I think, but she’s got her own... methods. Tonight, for example, she served eggs, bacon, and waffles for dinner. Not brunch. Not breakfast-for-dinner-as-a-fun-change. Just... dinner. And you know what? That’s our favorite. Mine, hers, and even Joseph's—back when he had the ability to chew.

After the tragic death of his young bride, a grieving husband becomes tormented by mysterious symptoms, eerie sounds, and the unsettling sense that his wife’s presence lingers in their home. Inspired by the work of Edgar Allen Poe.

A cheap, tidy flat with only one unsettling condition from the letting agent: never open the attic door. At first he brushes it off, but the strange warning begins to gnaw at him. Intrusive thoughts grow into fixation, and his life slowly unravels under the weight of curiosity.