I was driving late, definitely later than I wanted to be. My friend that lived in Sullen Oaks was expecting me hours earlier, and I procrastinated as usual. I know it's a bad habit, but breaking it seemed impossible. Perhaps I needed that last minute rush to motivate me or I was just a lazy adrenaline junkie. In any case, I was finally within the town limits and had a new found sense of positivity. That was soon to be crushed.

Sullen Oaks was not a large town population-wise, but it was spread out. There were long stretches of road in between neighborhoods, and they could be quite lonesome. It was such a stark contrast to the beautiful scenery, but the lack of lighting was downright unnerving. I didn't scare easily though and took it all in stride. That is, until I came to Tanner Bridge.

Judging by the looks alone, it was not a particularly intimidating bridge. It was a simple wooden structure that crossed over a rather cold looking river. Some voice within me began shouting for me to turn around.

As I got closer, my intuition was tugging at my brain so hard that I actually stopped right before the bridge began. So there I sat, having an idiotic standoff with some bridge for no other reason than a funny feeling. I kept scanning for any sign of danger or anything to explain this sense of foreboding. Nothing indicated why I shouldn't cross. And so I scolded myself for being childish and stepped on the gas.

Around a quarter of the way in, my car began to sputter.

"I filled up as soon I got into town," I muttered.

Checking my tank showed that I had plenty of gas. The car faded quickly and soon came to a dead stop. In denial, I tried turning the key five times but the engine showed no sign of life.

"Engine failure?" I queried aloud.

Luckily for me, my dad was a mechanic and I could figure out the problem from taking a quick look. It was always a joy when my guy friends were clueless about a car issue, then this little girl like me came along and fixed the problem.

"Anyone can learn cars if they want to," my dad always told me.

I smiled inwardly at his words, despite my unease with the situation.

With flashlight in hand, I exited the car and took a look under the hood. After checking over everything I was shocked to find no signs of an issue. I just tuned everything up, so there was no logical reason it would up and die like this.

Exhaling slowly, I went back into the car and got my phone out to call my friend, when my radio suddenly crackled to life. The hissing of the static made me jump and I dropped my phone into that irritating space between the seats and the console.

"Damn...lost to the abyss."

I began messing with the knobs on the radio to turn it off, but nothing worked.

There shouldn't be any power to it...should there?

Feeling thoroughly creeped out, I jammed my hand into the space where my phone fell and began to feel around. Just as I was starting to get a hold of my phone, a voice came over the radio.

"Where is she...?"

It was the voice of some woman I'd never heard before. The spacious echo of her voice instantly sent a shiver through me. She sounded sad and desperate, but even moreso she sounded unearthly. There was no way to properly explain it, but I immediately sensed that she didn't belong.

And just as quickly as the strange things were happening, they stopped.

I sat in a moment of silence with my phone in hand. After collecting myself, I called my friend and let her know that I was having car trouble.

"Oh, no! Do you know what's wrong with it?"

"I have no idea. The engine just died, but everything looks fine."

"Huh...weird. If you don't know what's wrong, I doubt anyone else will. I'll come get you. Where are you at?"

"Tanner Bridge."

There was a pause that concerned me.

"Is something wrong with that? Hello?"

The line was dead.

"Okay, don't freak out. Just some weird electrical distur—"

At this, the sound of a loud splash demanded my attention. It wasn't a large frog or something like that. It had to be a good sized rock or maybe even—

"Stop, don't do that," I said aloud.

Then again, if someone did jump off the bridge, shouldn't I check that they're okay? Fighting against my better instincts, I flung my door open and aimed my flashlight at the river below. I scanned for a ripple in the water to indicate the source of the splash, but the water was eerily calm.

"What the hell's going on with this place?" I murmured.

Then I heard something that froze me dead in my tracks.

No...it couldn't be.

It was the sound of a baby crying...

At first I thought it was coming from below the bridge, so I darted my flashlight around the surface. There was absolutely nothing to see. The sound moved in another direction, and I followed it with my light, but there was nothing there either. The sound changed yet again and it was coming from everywhere all at once. It wasn’t close, far, or anything in between. The sound of the baby’s cry was just....there.

As suddenly as it started, the crying stopped. My heart was pounding so hard, I could hear it in the eerie calm. Not knowing what else to do, I walked the short distance back to the entrance of the bridge and shined my light on the embankment for any sign of life.

That was when I saw it.

Muddy footprints trailed from the edge of the water to halfway up the embankment. I squinted my eyes to make sure I was seeing correctly. The prints were indeed there. Even stranger was the fact that they were fresh and it hadn't been raining.

Then, before my very eyes, I saw something I truly couldn't believe.

A new footprint appeared in the mud, as if an invisible foot had pressed into it.

"No....freaking...way,” I whispered in awe.

Another print appeared, followed by another, making its way towards me.

"Screw this.”

I turned on my heels back to my car. That's when the wailing started.

"Wheeeere's.....my....baaabyyyy...."

The awful, forlorn voice was the same woman I heard on my radio. This time, it was coming from behind me and much louder. The woman was panicked, pleading desperately. Her volume intensified, and by the time I dove into my car the disembodied voice was screaming.

"HELP ME!! WHERE IS SHE!!! WHERE'S MY BABYY!!!!"

I locked my doors, crawled into the backseat, and pulled a blanket over my head. The woman's voice approached the car, and I was trembling with fear.

"Don't come in, don't come in, don't come in..."

Just as the woman's shrieking rose to a fever pitch, it faded away. Daring to peek out from my blanket, I saw that there was nothing at my window. I sat up and tried to catch my breath. Once I was breathing normally again, I got into the front seat and tried calling my friend again.

My friend was apparently ahead of the game. Blinding lights forced me to hold my hand up in defense. I opened the door with one hand and stepped out.

"It's me, c'mon!!" My friend shouted from her car.

As soon as I heard her voice, I bolted across the bridge. The sound of my shoes reverberating off the wood was a form of catharsis, making each step further away from the horror behind me.

Or so I thought...

Right as I was clearing the end of the bridge, something stopped me. I jerked backwards and felt a hand grip my arm. Daring to look behind me, I came face to face with the apparition of a bloodied woman with torn clothing and a bulging eye socket. Her neck was twisted in an unnatural angle as if it’d been broken.

"PLEASE! HELP ME!!!" The woman screamed into my face.

I was paralyzed with fear, only able to marvel at her piercing, dead eyes. Another hand pulled me in the other direction, and I came to as my friend freed me from the woman's grasp. We both ran to her car as fast as we could manage

On the drive home, I recounted my harrowing tale to her. My friend explained that she booked it to the bridge as soon as I told her where I was.

Apparently, there was an awful history attached to Tanner Bridge.

Fifty-some odd years ago, a woman was admiring nature on the side of the bridge with her child. It was more of a scenic spot at the time and there weren't as many cars driving in that area. A driver came across the bridge too fast and bumped into her, causing her to drop her child into a shallow area of the river below. In a panic to save her child, she leapt off the bridge and slammed into the ground near her child. She couldn't move due to her broken neck and could only call out in distress until she succumbed to her injuries and died.

The driver that hit her was the only witness to the event and took off in fear. He didn't confess until years later. Apparently, he turned himself in out of sheer guilt. Many times, he found himself hanging around the bridge in some strange way of coping with what he'd done. He would hear the voice of the dying woman calling out for help and the guilt became too much for him to bear.

The story of the man's confession hit the local paper and teenagers would soon hang out near the bridge at night to see if they could experience the ghostly activity. It didn't take long before all the local kids stopped coming, because their experiences were simply too horrific for them to come back. As in my case, cars were known to die right on the bridge where the woman jumped to her death.

My friend told me that Tanner Bridge was so notorious for paranormal activity that another bridge was built to avoid it. Only the locals knew about the story, so she didn’t think to tell me.

So if you ever decide to visit Sullen Oaks, make sure you know the way around Tanner Bridge.

That is, unless you want an experience that will scar you for life…

I got YEETED from my dream and now I’m like terrified. This is so weird. I was dreaming like normal and just said to a crowd that everyone was in a dream and this person looked at me blank and couldn’t move and it felt like so long and I felt terror come over me. I couldn’t get it to stop and she wouldn’t stop staring at me. Was terrified and then the dream shrunk like a tv screen and I got thrown out. I’m awake and can’t stop seeing her face and I’m shaking and still nervous. I have NEVER had this feeling or ever had that happen. It’s really weirding me out so bad I’m crying writing this and I never cry. Like I feel over emotional now and fear. It just didn’t seem right. Anyone have an experience like this? It Reminds me of what I heard about when people ask the time and supposedly everything goes wrong and it gets terrifying but all I did was yell we are in dream to steal the food in the food court. I was stealing a pie ha. And as I was getting YEETED from my dream I screamed STOP I just want that pie lol. And yelling I’m sorry I don’t believe it’s a dream over and over but it didn’t work nothing woke me up Just awake. I could even fall asleep again because I was so scared and it was a different type of fear. I’ve had scary dreams. It’s not like that. It’s a terrifying feeling. It’s different. Just her blank long stare, I can’t shake it.

I've been a touring musician for the past few decades, but since November, I've decided to give writing a go. So far it's been an absolute blast! I am by no means a professional writer, but I do try really hard to write stories, (that I hope) are entertaining for listeners. I've been a lifelong horror fan so manifesting my own horror ideas into cohesive little works has been very satisfying.

Having a working skill set in the audio field made recording and mastering these stories very fun. Editing is A LOT of work, but I really enjoy it. Also, doing a bit of voice acting on the stories has been really fun as well!

I produce the whole thing/ made the theme song/ write the stories, and do 100% of everything. If you're interested in checking it out, you can find it here: https://streamlink.to/strangewhispers

****This is my first post in here and I saw some other links from people sharing stories, so hope that links allowed! Anyway, I'm really excited to check out some of the other stories in this sub, and look forward to any feedback or advice, (as long as it's constructive). Keep creating my friends!

**Edit: I don't know why the "H" and "P" in Horror Podcast got capitalized in my title... dang autocorrect LOL!

Okay so I'm in the process of writing a book. One of the main characters hears a loud crash outside, how would you go about describing that sound? I mean sure I could write CRASH but it feels more comicbook style the more I stare at it. And I definitely am not going for that. I could say suddenly she heard a crash from outside. But that doesn't feel intense enough. (Obviously it would be more detailed if im writing it but I dont know.) Why the heck am I stuck on this part alone 🙄

Hey y’all. I was just looking for feedback for my Amazon description for my latest novel The Haunting of the St. Simons Island Lighthouse. Will likely release it later this month or in early June. Thanks 😊

Centuries of frightening ghost stories haunt the small coastal community of St. Simons Island, Georgia. After taking a job as caretaker for the island’s notorious haunted lighthouse, aspiring horror author Paul Banks is about to find out these legends are not just true but also connected in this exciting paranormal cozy mystery.

Paul Banks has just recently completed graduate school. With little money, he moves to St. Simons to be closer to his family that includes his father Steve who was placed into an assisted living facility after being diagnosed with dementia. A struggling author, Paul is presented a chance to continue his goal of becoming a successful writer when he lands what he believes to be a low-stress job as the caretaker for the St. Simons Island Lighthouse, a historic site built in the late nineteenth century and a hotbed for paranormal activity.

As Paul struggles to care for his father, he splits his time between his older sisters and his newfound residency of living on site in the old lighthouse keeper’s quarters. Only Paul begins to experience frightening paranormal activity and witnesses firsthand how the tormented spirits in the lighthouse put him in danger. Additionally, he becomes obsessed over the haunting specter he has seen following him around the island: an elderly African-American woman who Paul suspects to be Mary The Wanderer, one of the other prominent ghost stories on St. Simons.

With the help of Kelly, a mysterious, clever young woman and the local historian Jeremy, Paul begins to connect the many ghost stories with the factual accounts they are based on, some of which relates to the area’s disturbing history with slavery. Such a connection leads Paul to realize that a curse on the island has led to several tragic deaths at the lighthouse. Can Paul and his friends break the centuries-old curse before it takes the lives of him and his loved ones?

The Haunting of the St. Simons Island Lighthouse combines the thrills and suspense of a Darcy Coates paranormal cozy mystery with the striking setting of Eugenia Price’s St. Simons novels for an elegant southern ghost story full of twists and turns.

My designs include unlimited revisions and both ebook and paperback, as well as promotional material and any other changes you might need. I will chat with you and ask for input every step along the way.

You can find my portfolio right here: https://www.behance.net/igorandrich

I just wanted to drop a quick note about this Discord server a friend of mine created not too long ago. It's all about collaborative writing and art creation where we work together on Stories and really get to merge our styles and ideas. I've found it's a pretty neat way to connect with other writers who are eager to blend their voices and possibly work toward publishing stories together. Right now it's just me and that friend but I thought it would be nice to have other people on board for the case they would be interested too.. So if you're into writing and looking for a group where you can share and grow your own ideas, this might be a great fit for you. Let me know if you're interested and I can share more about how to get involved!

What’s a horror trope that you are sick to death of reading? Tropes that are simply overused?

Looking for a horror e-book that does something different? Check out Terror in Brief, a collection of 200 horror stories that are just two sentences long. If you enjoy reading these incredibly short horror stories, download the other five e-books in the Terror in Brief series.

Terror in Brief
A collection of 200 chilling horror stories that are just two sentences long. Though these horrific stories are very short indeed, they may still give you the creeps. Encounter corrupt people of pure evil, come face to face with bloodcurdling monsters and beings and bear witness to deadly phenomena.

Terror in Brief: Volume II
Another collection of 200 frightening horror stories that are just two sentences in length. These tales may be extremely short, but they can still induce fear and panic. Meet the deranged and murderous, witness what beasts and spirits can do and watch as terrifying incidents wreck people’s lives.

Terror in Brief: Volume III
A third collection of 200 fear-inducing two-sentence horror stories. Don’t write these extremely short stories off just yet as they can be quite scary. See what the worst people are capable of, watch out for violent creatures and otherworldly lifeforms and behold strange, life-threatening events.

Terror in Brief: Volume IV
Yet another collection of 200 horror stories, each made up of just two sentences. Though these tales are on the shorter side, they can still be frightening. Watch as people commit wicked and murderous acts, behold the savagery of living things that aren’t human and see how unfortunate situations can prove tragic.

Terror in Brief: Volume V
A fifth collection of 200 two-sentence horror stories. Though these bitesized tales are incredibly short, they can still freak you out and put you on edge. Read extremely short stories about deranged creeps, remorseless killers, reckless beings and terrifying occurrences.

Terror in Brief: Volume VI
In this sixth collection of two-sentence horror stories, there are 200 extremely short tales of terror. They may be over in a second or two, but they can still produce fear, dread and disgust. Read stories about lawless brutes, thoughtless killers, harmful non-humans and strange happenings.

https://preview.redd.it/74qevslis9xc1.jpg?width=1080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=9d7cc8a58053700183f0fa84eca1a5f5a065c036

I just finished writing my short horror story and I have a preview of it on Wattpad. Would anyone like to read it and give me any feedback on what I could improve as I want to better my skills as a writer. I would very much appreciate it. It’s called B.E.N. https://www.wattpad.com/1441154860?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_reading&wp_page=reading_part_end&wp_uname=KnightFall89

I was wondering if I could find a writing buddy on this app. I’m seventeen , looking for a murder mystery writer or anyone to help me. We can build each other up when we don’t feel like writing . I’ve been in quite the writing slump for my first draft of my novel and it sucks . I need someone to help lift me up and get me where I need to be and I’ll do the same . Please anyone . If you’re interested text me/dm me .

On the night of september 12 2008 a 17 year old girl by the name of Casie Walters went missing in buffalo NY at around 7:18pm, then a week later on september 20 a video popped up on the popular video sharing website youtube titled “hi john, i got a new gf”, in the video a unnamed man is talking to the camera at a man named john describing how he met a girl at the mall who he is now dating. He then proceeds to step away from the camera to open a bathroom door to reveal his “girlfriend” tied up on the floor begging him to let her go, he steps into the bathroom and closes the door as the video ends. As you could image the internet went crazy trying to figure out who this man was and where he was keeping this girl, less than a week later he uploads another video in which he is sitting on a couch eating popcorn and talking about how his girlfriend always wants to go out to eat, meanwhile the girl is in the background crawling towards the door. When she gets to the door the floor under her makes a noise and the man gets up and walks towards her as the video ends. Like before, the internet went crazy trying to figure out a way to save this captive girl and after a month he had uploaded 4 more videos, each as disturbing as the last. Until october 18 when an internet user who happened to live in the same city as the man saw the man walking around one day and he decided to follow the man home and report him to the police along with his address, the man was later identified as 33 year old patrick hymen who had abducted Casie Walters and kept her in his home for a month and 7 days. Casie was later (after some questioning) returned to her family, the police determined that Patrick had abducted Casie from the mall and brought her to his home where he had filmed those now notorious videos. Patrick Hymen claimed in a police interrogation that “she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen and I knew I just had to have her” when asked who “john” was Patrick simply replied “my good buddy” and refused to answer any further questions on the subject. Thankfully, Patrick never harmed Casie in any way, he only kept her there and treated her as if they were a couple. Patrick was sentenced to 11 years in prison and is currently residing in prison.

I took inspiration from the popular video "hi walter" to write this. The ending needs some improvements but as it is I think it's a passable story.

My second horror novel is available on Amazon! To all the writers of horror: Keep going! Don’t stop writing! I believe in you!💯

I don’t know if this will catch anyone’s attention or will ever be read but I’m gonna just let it all out. Not looking for advice or using this as a cry for help. I guess I’m utilizing the internet as a way to vent about today’s events. I’m not a fan of people and I can’t stand being in public. There is no way i would discuss this in person with anyone but behind my computer screen seems more comfortable. But enough stalling, I am here to discuss what happened a few hours ago before anyone comes looking for me.

 I want to start off by saying, I fucking hate people. I live alone and prefer it that way. I do my best to avoid any social situation and would much rather pay for overpriced fast food and have it delivered than to go out or stop at a grocery store. But with the constant inflation and the price of fees going up for delivery services, I was stuck having to bite the bullet and go shopping. Work has been slow so I haven’t been making as much money as usual, thanks to the corporate gods deeming it necessary to cut my fucking hours. 

  Anyway, I had to hype myself up to crawl in my car and head to the local grocery store to buy food. It's a ten minute drive from my scummy apartment. I had a total of sixty dollars to spend and hoped that it would last me until my next paycheck. Once I arrived at my destination, I sat in my car for a while and just watched other people come in and out of the establishment known as Willy’s Bottom Dollar Grocery. Sixty dollars, what can that buy anyone in this day and age? A bunch of ramen noodles, mac n cheese and a few other extra bits of bullshit. But i could get more food there then spending it on fast food which would be enough for maybe two meals off of the cheap menu.

 After procrastinating for a long while and breathing in the hot air from the non existent air conditioning of my beat up corolla, I finally opened the door and began my walk into the store. The cool air assaulted my sweat drenched face when the glass doors squealed open. The sound was atrocious but the sensation of the cold helped relax me. My nerves were a jumbled ball from the intense heatwave and the knowledge of having to be in a public place. God I hate being around people. I was greeted by an elderly woman who was standing guard by the self checkout area. As if anyone would be intimidated by her. She was short and plump with tons of wrinkles that i swear moved with the gust of air from the vent above the entrance. 

 I stared for a minute too long at her and the smile she had soon faded to a scowl. I removed eye contact, letting my gaze lower to her name tag which indicated that her name was Darlene. She looked more like a Betsy but whatever. I walked towards the area where they kept the shopping carts. There were two different kinds, the big silver ones with the red plastic handle and the small blue ones with the dingy white rubber wheels. Seeing that I wasn’t going to be buying much, I grabbed one of the blue ones. And wouldnt you know, the one I picked had a fucked up wheel that spun and let out an unnerving rumble as I rolled it across the glazed cement floor. God damnit.

I can’t stand it when the shopping carts are in bad condition, if I had it my way, I would throw the defective ones away. But I was trying to make this a quick trip and really did not want to turn around and get another cart. And there was no way I was walking back towards the wavy, wrinkled flesh goblin. So to the pasta aisle I went in a hurry, the rumble of the broken wheel made a loud racket that sent a wave of embarrassment flooding into my psyche. I did my best to avoid any eye contact with people and serpentined around anyone who was moving too slow. I can’t stand that shit. Just move with a purpose, grab what you need and move on. Something about the way other human beings act in a store always drives me up the wall. The stress of it all increases with the time I’m in a store and by the time I’m checking out, I have a pounding headache from the high amount of annoyance. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who knows the proper way of how to act in any store and it can be extremely frustrating. So far for this trip though, nothing had really bothered me too much. That was until I finally made it to Aisle Nine.

All i needed from this aisle was maybe six packets of ramen and five boxes of the off brand macaroni and cheese. As I made my way to the blue boxes, standing in front of them was a haggard old man. He wasn’t doing anything but staring at the boxes and chewing on his cheek like it was a piece of gum or something. I don’t know why some old people do that but I swear I always see it. His back was at a weird arch and the cane he was holding looked flimsy, not suitable to even hold a toddler up. He was mumbling to himself as he chewed but he never blinked or lifted his eyes from their fixed position.

 I stood there for what felt like five minutes before I made a few steps closer, hoping to reach beyond him and grab my macaroni. But when I got closer to him, good god….the stench. I can’t make this up, the man smelled like a dog who had been soaking in a pool of piss and had recently vomited all over itself. The smell made me gag and I immediately backed away. I decided that I no longer needed to get that item and spun around to grab my cart and leave the aisle. My irritation was beginning to surface but only a small bit. I was more disgusted than anything. The smell of the old man lingered around until I made it two aisles over, in the bread area. I planned to  grab a loaf of bread for some good old fashioned peanut butter sandwiches. Thinking about my first item, I would try to go back for the macaroni and also get some ramen. Hopefully by the time I was finished in the bread aisle, Mr. Vomit would be gone. 

 With a tight budget, I scanned the shelves for the cheapest brand which came in a clear bag with red letters that spelled “Bread”. I knelt down to grab the nearest loaf when I heard a loud nasally explosion and felt a wet mist assault my wrist. I screamed inside of my head, “What the fuck?!” as I looked up to see some acne faced teenager staring at me with a long trail of snot hanging from his nose. I couldn’t move from the shock of what had just happened. I remained in place but then the kid spoke. “Calm down dude, I’m not like sick or anything.” I bit down on my bottom lip before speaking my peace. “You should really cover your mouth when you sneeze. You know? To avoid spreading germs.” I spoke in a slight sarcastic tone. The kid was old enough to know this and me having to say it just annoyed me. “Whatever dude.” The little shit blurted out as he stormed off, flipping me the bird as he did so. Motherfucker. Shit like this is why I hate people. Inconsiderate pricks like that kid and old people who don’t know how to take a hint like Mr. vomit. My stress was starting to boil and I hadn’t even put a single item in my cart.

 I rubbed my wet arm against my pants and grabbed a loaf of bread then made my way back to get my macaroni. I would grab the peanut butter after returning to Aisle Nine.  I turned towards the aisle and would you believe it? Mr. Vomit was still there. Standing in the exact same spot and staring into space. Jesus fucking christ. What goes through people’s heads when they do things like this. I was determined to get what I needed so I said to hell with it and took a deep breath. I held it in as I hastily walked towards the old man and grabbed the off brand mac n cheese. 

 As I exhaled and walked back to my cart, he muttered in my direction. “Cocksucker.” I turned around and stared at him, he didn’t look at me. Instead I watched his face begin to turn red then a grunt reverberated from his clenched jaw. All of the sudden he let out a wet, disgusting noise that did not come from his mouth. I paused, wondering if he had soiled himself and soon I received my answer. I thought he smelled bad before, but now it was just otherworldly in its vileness. He turned his head and looked at me, muttering once again. “You fucking cocksucker.” I had enough of the situation and left Mr. Vomit to his own filthy atmosphere. I couldn’t believe the old man did that and then glared at me while whispering insults. What the hell was going on today? I threw the boxes in my cart and left in a hurry to remove the stench from my nostrils.

 I pulled out the calculator on my phone to add up the amount of the boxes and single loaf of bread. So far I was at six dollars and fifteen cents, that rounding it off with tax. Due to the foul situation, I was only able to grab three boxes instead of five. I decided to skip the ramen since it was apparent the noodle aisle was now off limits. I was craving something salty so I decided I would add some pickles to my week of provisions. That was the only thing I needed from the condiment aisle which I was currently at, minus a jar of peanut butter. Three dollars for the cheap brand but the pickles, I couldn't go cheap on those. They had to be the Kosher Dills otherwise I wouldn't eat them. It’s like a delicacy to me, so they were worth the six dollars. So in total that would leave me with roughly forty five dollars to spend that included tax. I quickly headed to the shelf of multiple brands of pickles and scanned the area until I found the jar filled with those delicious spears. But lo and behold there was someone in my way once again. 

A very large woman on a motorized scooter. To be honest, I don't even know how the thing was even able to move. I know I shouldn’t fat shame, but holy hell. I was caught off guard by her size, although I did not think too hard with insults until I realized she was going to be there for a long time. She was grabbing jars and reading the labels with a large rectangular magnifying glass. Yes. A fucking magnifying glass. What in the hell do you need to look at in such great detail that requires a tool like that? I couldn't even hold in my annoyance at this point. Her slow movements, the heavy breathing from setting one jar down to pick up another and the wailing of the springs in the poor chair of that scooter. So many things just clawing at my patience. I let out a long sigh and was met with a glare of pure hatred. “What?!” The large woman yelled at me, spit flying from her bright red colored lips. A drop of saliva landed on my shirt and I could feel heat rising in my chest.

 I let out another sigh and did my best to remain calm. “Ma’am, can you please back up a bit so i can grab what i need?” I didnt wanna fight, I just wanted my damn pickles. She scoffed at me then yelled once more. “You can wait til I'm done. I am on a diet and need to know the salt levels on every brand so I dont ruin my figure, asshole.” She quickly turned her head back to the jar after she spoke. That really pissed me off. “What figure? You enormous cow?!” I thought that in my head but refrained from vocally insulting the rude woman. She was in a scooter, it would take no effort to push a button or whatever just to move two feet. That's all I asked for but no, she wasn't having that and it. I was made to just stand and wait like an idiot. With the other two incidents, my level of patience was growing very thin. I abandoned one food but i was not leaving this store without my fucking pickles. So I took a deep, calming breath and asked her to move once more. I was met with shouting, more spit and somehow was accused of being prejudiced towards the disabled. I don't know where that last part came from because I never said anything about a disability or her weight. At least not outloud. Either way I was fed up but did nothing except take a few steps back and waited for the woman to finish her inspection of the ingredients. You know, because the jars are  filled with all kinds of chemicals and other bullshit that needs to be examined with a fine tooth comb. Give me a fucking break.

 Apparently she didn't like me standing there and started scoffing and shooting glances of frustration at me then finally yelled at me for a third time. “Do you mind?! I can’t concentrate with you there. Have some consideration, asshole.” I threw my hands up in defeat and placed them on the bar of my cart. I could hear her strained breathing as I made my way to the end of the aisle. I stopped right there after thinking about all that had happened so far. Too many rude interactions that had ruined my shopping experience and I was done with that. If this lady didn't wanna move then i was going to make her move. 

 I turned around and walked back towards her, leaving my cart behind. Without any hesitation, I grabbed a deluxe jar of off brand whole pickles and dropped it on top of the woman’s skull. It didn’t shatter as I expected it to, instead it made a loud thud sound and kind of bounced off of her head. She squealed like a pig being tortured and it hurt my ears. I raised the jar above my head and landed four more blows before my arms began to ache. By that time there was a large stain of red on the edge of the jar and a huge gash on the left side of her scalp. The blood was flowing at a slow pace and blending with her blonde curls, almost dying them a faint orange color. 

She had stopped squealing and fell limp against the handle of the scooter. Her hefty chest blubber had triggered a button that sent the scooter rolling off towards the end of the aisle, I had to jump backwards to avoid my toes being run over. It slammed into the side of a freezer box that held the frozen burger patties that were on sale. Buy two, get one free. I placed the large jar back on the top shelf and grabbed my kosher dills. I walked back to my cart and placed them gently next to the peanut butter. I walked past the woman, seeing that the wheels of the scootr were still spinning but the freezer stopped the thing from actually going anywhere. I thought I could smell something burning as I walked towards the canned goods aisle. The rumble of my cart’s defective wheel caused a slight vibration that rattled the pickle jar against the metal rack it sat on.

I decided to grab a few cans of ravioli and chicken noodle soup, lucky for me the name brand was on sale. Four for five dollars so I got four of each which brought my new limit to thirty four dollars. Always got to add the tax, just in case. I felt pretty good about the stuff I had gotten so far. Granted in this economy, everything is overpriced but what can you do? 

With the cans placed neatly in my cart I decided I needed to get some milk and maybe some cereal. I did the math and figured I could get a gallon of skim milk and two boxes of cereal and maybe have a little money left over for some chocolate and a few other cheap items. I looped around, passing the pasta aisle again, noticing Mr. Vomit was no longer there but an employee was in his spot, mopping up some green colored sludge. We all can take a guess on what that was. I was a few steps away from the milk when I watched some big muscled bound man park his cart in front of the milk. He left it right where I needed to be and just casually walked away. Some people just have no courtesy for anyone these days. He completely left the aisle and wandered off somewhere else. One of the big silver carts, packed with cases of water, protein powder, fruit, meat and a lot of olive oil for some strange reason. I didn’t want to give too much thought to it but seven bottles of olive oil? Who does that? Well I decided that I wasn't gonna wait so I shoved his cart a bit aggressively then opened the door of the fridge to grab my skim milk and placed it in my small blue cart. I heard a crash and then a deep voice shout. “Who the fuck touched my shit? I let out a long sigh and thought to myself. “Great. I pissed off Mr. Muscles.”

 He came around the corner with his chest puffed out and a nasty vein poking out of the side  of his tree trunk neck. His eyes were wide and shifting towards his cart then at me. I was the only one around so there was no doubt he knew I was the culprit. “Anyone ever tell you to not touch people’s shit?” He snarled. My heart raced a bit as he walked towards me, I stood there frozen and apologized. My quivering voice gave it away that he intimidated me with his size and stature. He lifted me up by my shirt collar and threatened me a few times then called me a pansey before dropping me and telling me to watch myself. I landed on my ass when he dropped me which hurt but I didn’t let it show. As I got to my feet he locked eyes with me one more time then stormed towards a different aisle. “Hulk Hogan wanna be motherfucker.” I muttered under my breath. I had my milk so the next destination was towards cereal. One of the more expensive items in this run down grocery store. I left the aisle, rubbing my ass to attempt to dull the pain.

 I grew up eating things like coco puffs, frosted flakes and fruity pebbles, however in those days the boxes were like two bucks a pop. Now it cost fucking seven dollars for a small box of name brand cereal. So I was stuck with either the water downed flavored stuff in a flimsy box or the shit in the large bag that gets soggy after ten seconds of being coated in milk. But at least I could get more than one thing for less than fifteen dollars. A box of fruity O’s and a bag of coco diamonds for a total of twelve dollars. I felt lucky because after all of what I got, I still had roughly seventeen dollars left to spend. Realizing my fate, I went back to the condiment aisle to get a jar of grape jelly as a bonus to my sandwiches for the week and who did I see once I got there? The little prick who sneezed on me. My luck increased at this so I grabbed my jelly, placed it in my cart then grabbed a jar of strawberry in one of those glass jars and sprinted towards the teenager.

He didn't notice me until after I had stopped a few feet away and thrown the jar at him. The jar bounced off his face and shattered near him. He fell to the floor, crying and demanding to know why I had done that. I took what was left of the broken jar and dug it into his eye socket but stopped after accidently stabbing my thumb with a jagged edge of broken glass. I cursed then rose to my feet and began stomping on his neck until the screams stopped and I heard a crunch. A lady walked in the aisle and yelped when she saw us then ran away, yelling for help. I wiped my thumb on my shirt, leaving a small stain on it. I grabbed my cart to continue shopping. At this point I was kind of just roaming around, looking for anything that looked good. The jelly dropped my money to basically eleven dollars so I had no idea what to even get. Even for the cheap stuff, jelly was kind of expensive. I saw the big muscle man as I wandered and I avoided him by darting into the opposite aisle. This one was filled with bags, aluminum foil, tupperware and utensils. I spotted a knife set and grabbed rather large one and stared at it. I envisioned myself assaulting Mr. Muscles and getting revenge. I gripped the handle tightly and ripped the thin plastic to free the wide metal blade. I left my cart in that aisle and headed towards where i saw the big man, plotting on how I would attack him.

       He was aimlessly wandering around, looking at different types of soup. And once again he had left his cart in the middle of the aisle as he strayed away from it. “Fuck this asshole.” That's what I thought to myself as I glared at the cloud of a man, watching the fluorescent light reflecting off of his bald head. It looked like he shined it with wax every morning as he lifted weights, playing Roadhouse in the background. He hadn't noticed me there and eventually he lined up perfectly with his cart and I shoved it as hard as I could. It sped towards him, slamming into his waist and sending him falling to the floor. He let out a winded shout. “Who the fuck?!” I leaped onto his chest and placed my knees on his shoulders. His eyes grew as big as dinner plates when he saw the knife in my hand. His voice became a trembling whine of pleading but I ignored the words as I started jabbing the blade in any area it decided to penetrate. I lost count after maybe fifteen or sixteen stabs. Once I felt the burn in my arm and Mr. Muscles no longer squirming, I jammed the blade in one more time before getting up and pushing my cart to the next aisle. That incident was a torrent of blind rage and to be honest, I don’t have any idea where I stabbed him or where I left that knife. I know I lodged it somewhere and it stuck though. The front left wheel of my cart rolled into the growing puddle of blood and I created a narrow trail as I walked away.

I still had not found anything that caught my fancy to spend my remaining dollars on. But then I made it to the candy aisle and that changed. For nostalgic reasons I searched for the classic white chocolate bar, you know the Zero bar? A bit hypocritical of me, but I abandoned my cart to check out the variety of candy. I had no luck in finding my preferred treat so I stood there, pondering on a good substitute. My concentration was broken by the sound of a woman yelling on the phone. She had the damn thing on speaker and the other person was just as loud but with that somewhat static tone. The two were bickering about which summer house to stay in or something along those lines. She walked passed and clipped me with her ugly but no doubt expensive purse, not even acknowledging my existence. I ignored it and continued with my thoughts. “I don't care Darrell! I want to go to South Carolina this year! Fuck Roger and his fat wife, theyre not coming to that condo! And if Sharon has an issue then I’ll……”  Her voice was beyond obnoxious. The conversation was rattling my brain and I felt a migraine forming in my skull. 

 This lady was driving me insane and she had only been near me for a good sixty seconds. She refused to shut up or at least have the decency to quiet her tone. No one wants to hear your entire conversation. I couldn’t tune out the sound and I just quickly grabbed the nearest wrapper and walked towards my cart. I didn’t really know what I grabbed but chocolate is chocolate so I didn't care. I just needed to get out of the aisle and away from the sound. Three paces away and this blabbering hag was standing right in front of my cart. “Darrell. Darrell. Shut up. Yes you pay for it but it is mine.” She spoke with that rich, snooty tone. I couldn't take it anymore and I snatched the phone from her hand and threw it down on the floor. She gasped as the thing broke into multiple pieces. “Huh? You son of a bitch! I'm getting security! You don't know who you're dealing with!” She screamed and began shuffling away. I grabbed the lady by her hair and slammed her face into the shelf filled with baking supplies. A bag of flour burst open and coated the woman's face in white powder. I continued to bounce her face on the shelf until that white turned red. She gasped for air and I let her drop to the floor. The sound of her skull hitting the concrete made a sound that made my stomach ache.  She whimpered and I picked up the broken pieces of her phone and shoved them in her mouth. She fought but it was no use. I kicked her in the face a few times and I'm pretty sure she may have swallowed one of the broken pieces. I decided that was enough and went to the next aisle to spend my last eight dollars.I realized I grabbed a king size snickers which was three dollars. I ended up having to loop around back to the aisle and double check the price. The loud woman was still on the ground and I couldn't tell if she was dead or unconscious. There was blood pooling around her head and some leaking from the corner of her mouth however. But that was not my problem so I moved on. I was feeling like maybe some pop tarts would go well with my assortment of snacks.

       Name brand pop tarts run almost five dollars a box but lucky for me the cheap stuff had a sale going on. Two for six. So I was able to get a box of cinnamon and cookies and cream. I was pretty excited about that. After doing the math I realized adding in the tax that I had officially reached my budget of provisions so I spun around to go check out. As I went past the aisles, I saw people rushing past me. I’m sure they were headed to help the morons that pissed me off. I heard a man shout. “Call an ambulance! She's still breathing!” I wondered if they were referring to the lady on the scooter or the one who swallowed pieces of her phone. I continued walking towards the front of the store, another person shouting about a giant mess in Aisle Five.

        I opted out of the normal check out lanes because no one was there, no doubt scrambling to take a hold of the situation. So I headed to the self checkout kiosk where the wrinkled goblin was still stationed. I casually began ringing up my items and she rushed towards me. “Sir make sure to scan your items one at a time” I ignored her and continued scanning the barcodes. She spoke again. “Make sure to use your advantage card if you have one” I placed my Kosher Dills in the bag then turned to her. “I don’t have one.” The woman with the name tag “Darlene” looked at me in disappointment and started telling me that I should get a rewards card. I declined but she then started describing the process. I Said again that I was not interested but it seemed to go through one ear and out the other. She grabbed my arm and looked me in the eyes as she told me I really needed to sign up for the store's bullshit card.

 I didn't say a word as I drew back and punched her square in the jaw. Her eyes rolled back and a mixture of blood and saliva shot from her mouth. I'm pretty sure I watched a tooth fly out as well. I was right when I heard it clink on the floor. She started to groan, her head bobbing as she tried to lift herself up. I scanned another item then kicked her a few times in the ribs until she collapsed. I placed the last item in a bag and looked at the total displayed on the screen. Fifty four dollars and ninety seven cents was the total. “Holy shit.” A smile cracked across my face when I saw that and I thought to myself. “Under budget. This has turned out to be a good day.” I put all the bags in the cart and strolled outside to load my trunk up with my haul. I could hear shouts of panic as the glass doors squealed shut behind me. Last thing I heard was, “Oh my lord! That man attacked poor Darlene!” I kept walking and didn't miss a beat until I got to my car.

      After I put my cart in the rail thing, I got in my car and started driving out of the parking lot. I stopped when someone slowly walked out of the door, an old man with a cane. “Son of a bitch” I thought of the words and said them out loud. It was Mr. Vomit, slowly shuffling to his vehicle with a bag that looked like it had maybe two items. I looked behind me to check if there were any cars. All clear. So I backed up a wee bit then put the car in drive and slammed on the gas. The engine revved and the rpms needle bounced furiously. Soon a loud thud sent a rattle to the front end as I watched the old geezer roll across my hood, windshield and fly over my car. I saw his body land on the asphalt through my rear view mirror. He hit hard, his body was limp with no movement whatsoever. He had left a slight crack in my windshield, accompanied by a splatter of blood. I pressed my foot on the break and put the car in reverse, gunning it hard and feeling the lift of the tire as it rolled over the old man. I repeated the process but switched to drive and ran over him one last time before finally leaving the parking lot of Willy’s Bottom Dollar Grocery. 

      I took care of the final annoyance of my shopping experience and drove home with a smile on my face. During my drive I saw an ambulance and two squad cars speed past me. I’m sure it is no surprise on where they were heading. I made it home and cooked some macaroni and cheese then accented the dish with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The sight of Mr. Vomit's mangled corpse filled my head as I ate but surprisingly, it didn't deter my hunger. I feel like the events of today were out of the ordinary and something compelled me to share it so that is why I typed all of this out. All of this happened about two hours ago and now I think I hear sirens. That might be for me so I'll end this. Just wanted to share my story. Has anyone else ever had a day like this?

I am attempting to write a short horror novel/story and would like to see if anybody can read what I have written so far and give some constructive criticism. Story is included below. It is a little long at the moment especially for just two first chapters, but I appreciate if anyone does read the full thing and give me feedback.

Prologue:

On the night of August 22nd, 2008 is when my life had changed forever. I had received a phone call from a person I had been waiting on a call from for several years. I received the call at around 10 at night, when I looked at my phone it was an unknown number, starting with a country code of 1, it was somebody in the United States, most likely wasn't a scam call. I picked it up out of sheer curiosity.

When I picked up the phone on the other end was an alien but recognizable voice. It was Corey Johnson, a police officer back in my hometown of Wylleville, Virginia. He sounded older and wiser but more broken at the same time. Corey spoke to me in a somber but urgent tone. He had told me that the police had finally found out why my life was a nightmare as a kid and told me to fly over as soon as possible.

With that having been said I packed my bags immediately and booked a flight over. I was living in Canada at the time to attend college so I knew I had a lengthy flight ahead of me. The earliest flight that could get me back to the United States was a flight that left the next morning and had me at a layover in Colorado before a flight to Richmond, from there I'd have to take a taxi, giving me enough time to recollect everything from my childhood and ponder what had happened recently.

After I booked my (expensive) flight I told my room mate that I was leaving for the States temporarily for some important business. Going to sleep that night I had troubles falling asleep, tossing and turning all night staying up with my thoughts. Thoughts of how I could finally relieve myself of the guilt and painful memories of my childhood and put them to rest.

The next morning when the time came to leave for the flight I asked my room mate to drive me over and they agreed, probably because I promised that fatso I would give him cash for lunch after he dropped me off. I had never told my room mate about my childhood and my stories so he was unaware of why this was so important to me, instead he moaned and whined about how he would have to do the grocery shopping himself for a period of time.

When we pulled up to the Toronto Pearson airport I got out with all of my luggage and stood outside the airport for a minute to take a quick smoke. As I smoked something seemed off. The weather outside was generally cool around only 17 degrees Celsius (or about 63 Fahrenheit for those born American like me) and in the distance a thick fog was descending with a very light layer of fog already on the ground. The area was generally empty with nobody around, quite odd for being at one of the busiest airports in Canada. Nevertheless despite the off putting nature of the world around me I entered inside the airport.

When I entered the airport it was still empty for the most part other than workers and the occasional flight-goer. It was like the end of the world had happened during the drive there and I didn't even know. I checked into my flight just fine and went through airport security without a hitch. I eventually sat right at the gate to enter my flight and waited. I had about 2 hours until my flight and had time to kill so I pulled out my phone and started to scroll through Twitter.

About 15 minutes passed after scrolling through Twitter and I had saw something that would change the course of this flight for the better. Slipknot had just released a new album called "All Hope Is Gone". I had to listen to this on the flight there. After what felt like an eternity had passed (in reality only about 20 minutes) I eventually broke down and pulled out my headphones and listened to the album. A few minutes after I finished the album somebody came over the intercom of the gate and announced boarding would soon begin for my flight so I got up to get ready to board.

As I stood up I noticed that at the gate there was nobody else other than the workers who were to assist in boarding. I pondered to myself how peculiar that was and waited until it was time to embark. When it was time to board the plane I got up and got on the flight without any problem at all.

While waiting for the plane to depart from the airport I overheard the pilots talking in the cockpit about the flight. One of the pilots said to the other that the flight only had two tickets booked and that strangely about an hour after the first one was booked the next was booked in the seat next to the first ticket.

When I heard this I freaked out a little. That was strange considering I bought my ticket at almost 11PM and nobody was coming with me but I brushed it off. Maybe the person wanted some companionship for this long flight.

7 minutes before the flight took off is when the second person finally came on board. The person sat right next to me and immediately sat down and seemed to start napping. Odd but I couldn't do anything about it.

When the flight took off I just stared outside the window. At this point the entire runway was covered in the thick fog that was descending from the heavens before. As we took off in the distance I could see Mississauga covered in the thick dense fog and the lights of the city just barely breaking through. I thought to myself about how this could be considered optimal flight weather and how the flight was not delayed.

Eventually an hour after the flight had taken off the man that had sat next to me poked his head back up. I got a good look at him and noticed something strange. He looked almost just like me with minor differences. If you put me next to him right in front of my mother, even she would probably get confused. The man eventually turned to me and looked at me. His face looking empty and blank.

"Did you listen to the new Slipknot album yet?" The man spoke to me, the words seemingly flowing out of his mouth in a soft but careful tone.

I looked back at the man and was confused. How did he know I was a fan of Slipknot? This wasn't the 90's anymore, Slipknot wasn't on top of the world anymore, so what are the chances this guy would have heard it too?

I looked back at the man and quietly told him, "Yes."

The man looked back at me and asked my thoughts on the album. I had told him some of the stuff on there was good like Sulfur or Dead Memories but that it would never top Iowa as the best Slipknot album. After saying that the man repeated back to me almost the exact same opinion. Strange that he thought the same thing and looked just like me, but who I am to talk, Slipknot fans aren't the most diverse hivemind.

After that the man mostly just stopped talking. He'd ask me a few things here or there such as where I'm going or what my name is, but for the most part it was silence from here on out.

After the conversation had well died off I decided the best way to pass the rest of the time was to just try and recall my childhood and why I was heading out anyways. Other than a few select moments most of the bad parts of my childhood I had forgotten about.

I stared back out the window at the ground below us and tried to remember. It took me a while to recall, but I eventually remembered what had happened that summer in 1994.

1994:

The summer of 1994 was a different time. At the time I was only 6 years old and was happy living my life just fine. I had just gotten out of Kindergarten and during that time I had become best friends with a boy named Allen.

Allen and I were both huge fans of the Power Rangers. My favorite Power Ranger was the red one and Allen's favorite was the blue Power Ranger. Before school ended we'd often go to each other's houses to watch Power Rangers together. Allen's family was a bit strange, he had no mom and lived outside of town in a nearby area called "Shady Vale Trailer Park".

My family lived in right inside the town of Wylleville, Virginia and lived inside the Maple Tree neighborhood. Most of the time if we were to meet up I'd go to Allen's house instead since I found it more fun. He had everything he needed on his street. A park nearby, a small baseball diamond and even a patch of woods right behind his house.

When the summer started I'd go over to Allen's house every weekend and spend the night. Usually I'd go over Friday night and stay there until Sunday. During the day we'd go to the park and play for a bit with the other neighborhood kids. If nobody was outside or we got bored we'd often go to a nearby ditch and try to dig further into the ditch to make it bigger.

While I was over at Allen's house I noticed that Allen's dad seemed to not care too much what we would do, he would just let us roam free around the neighborhood or stay up as late as we wanted. He would tell us just make sure we come back to eat something at dinner and to stay safe.

Usually on Saturday nights Allen and I would watch a scary movie (I wanted to do this as often as possible as my parents would not let me do this) and then go outside in the dark to mess around.

After watching a scary movie we'd often end up in the small patch of woods and mess around. We'd jump out of the trees and scare each other or scare other people walking past.

One night after watching a movie we went outside into the woods as usual and messed around. Allen suggested we play hide and seek in the dark woods to have some fun and I agreed to that. I was told to hide first and did so.

As soon as Allen started counting I ran as fast as possible further into the words. Eventually I came across a storm drain that was seemingly under a small man-made bridge. The area was heavily wooded and seemed to have no reason to exist. The ground dipped down in a slope and underneath this small bridge was the large drain. The drain was dark and extended way further than my eyes could see, so naturally as a kid I decided it was the best spot possible to hide. If anything Allen would be too scared to check it. It was the perfect spot.

Time passed by and Allen never found me. I had been waiting what felt like an hour in the storm drain and decided to come out to look for Allen. The woods looked even darker than before and I decided I needed to find Allen as soon as possible so that way I don't get lost in the woods.

I walked around for a few minutes, occasionally hearing rustling leaves or breaking twigs and would follow those noises. I'd call out for Allen but would receive no response but still hear the noises further ahead. Having no choice but to follow the noises.

After what seemed like forever I saw something in the distance, it was a light source, floating as an orange glow in the far-off woods. Most likely a fire of some sort, I followed. In my mind I knew how odd it was, I was in the middle of the woods after all, but with no other option I walked toward it anyways. As I came close to the light the area seemed to become a different place.

The woods had lightened up and this area was mostly a circular area with no trees at all to it. The ground was completely devoid of life, no grass or plants, just straight dirt. At the center of that circle was a man.

The man was sitting in front of a fire he had made in the center. He was dressed in all black clothes and hard to spot. Originally I had thought that my mind was just playing tricks on me.

As I walked into the area I was prepared to tell the man what was happening to see if he could help me, but as I drew nearer he seemed to not even notice that I was there.

I continued to get closer but as I got nearer something seemed wrong. I could faintly hear the man mumbling to himself. The mumbling was not in English or any other language I could pick out. I could not make out any words at all, it seemed to just be gibberish you'd hear in an 80's Fantasy movie when the wizard casts a spell.

Once within 10 feet of the man he reacted to my presence. When the man realized I was there he stood without breaking his streak of words spewing out of his mouth. Even this close the words still seemed to be nonsense. While standing the man simply just stared at me eerily.

"H-h-hello, my name is Drew. I got lost playing hide and seek with my friends." I called out to the man in a vulnerable tone.

The man blankly looked at me. Repeating what I said back to the man I received a blank stare again. Deciding I'd be better off just walking away and finding the way to Allen's house by myself I got ready to walk away.

Starting to turn around and walk away I heard a noise. The noise was akin to a simple click and it rang out loud considering the lack of ambient noises nearby. Turning around I could see the man was holding an unidentified object in his hands. Unable to make out what the object was in the dim lighting I decided to get out as fast as possible. Looking back on what happened now, my adult mind clearly remembers the object as some sort of pocket knife.

I ran out of the area as fast as possible, I didn't know where to run, anywhere but there was fine. I continued to run until I couldn't anymore. After some time I had stopped in front of a strange building. The area was heavily wooded and in front of me sat a fence adorned with barbed wire at the top.

Looking over the fence I could clearly see the building looked like some kind of abandoned factory. The factory was overgrown with vines growing on the sides and some of the sides of the building collapsing in. The factory was large and seemed like a good spot to hide temporarily until the morning so I decided to do just that.

Walking around the building it was obvious it had been abandoned for a while for some reason. Trying to find an entrance to the building I circled around the fence until I found a section where the ground below had been dug out for presumably trespassing on the property. Being the stupid kid that I was I crawled underneath to enter the property.

After getting underneath the fence the first thing I noticed was an already open, large, barn-style door to the building and some well-worn warning signs that seemed to warn of some workplace danger. Desperate to make sure this man never found me I entered through the door and attempted to close it some. Too weak to close the door I ventured further in to hide.

In the room after entering was a large floor and some machines that were rusted and looked non-functional. Looking to the right I noticed a set of stairs that led to a landing above the room and decided to follow the stairs up. Once at the top of the stairs I noticed a chair at the top overlooking the floor below and decided to sit in it and wait.

After some time I fell asleep. I woke up the next morning to light entering the building at the bottom floor. Able to now see the objects inside the factory it looked like an old ammunition factory. I picked myself up and squeezed back out of the fence the way I came through and noticed that nearby I could barely see through the trees what looked like a road.

Walking towards the sight it became clearer that it was in fact a road. The road happened to be one just outside of Allen's neighborhood and I would be able to just walk back to his house. As I reached the road I noticed the odd weather. The area was covered in a thick dense fog. Thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. Despite the odd weather for summer time I carried on towards Allen's house.

Once I reached Allen's neighborhood something seemed off. There were several police cruisers parked around the neighborhood. I didn't see any police officers or in fact anybody at all but something felt wrong. I walked up to Allen's house and walked inside without anything else out of the ordinary happening.

Except when I walked into Allen's house things were suddenly different. There were several police officers in the house talking to Allen's dad. Allen's dad sat at the table, head down with a glass bottle at the table. Looking around I could see that Allen was in fact nowhere to be seen. One of the police officers noticed me and came over to talk to me.

The officer told me that Allen didn't come home last night and was reported missing. The officers asked me questions such as what were we doing last night, when was the last time I saw him. I answered to the best of my ability but left out the fact of the man in the woods.

After some time the police officers left the house and Allen's dad drove me home. The entire ride was silent and devoid of any interactions. Once I got to my house I kept going on as if nothing had happened, I didn't understand what was happening.

I never saw Allen again for the rest of that summer. In fact, nobody saw him at all for the rest of that summer. I tried to help Allen's dad look for him but nothing ever came out of it. I felt guilty, I felt as though it was my fault.

When school started back up again later that year in the fall and I started first grade Allen was still nowhere to be seen. Nobody in school had seen Allen either.

Title: Still Water

"This is the last" he whispered, gazed fixed to the lifeless and darkened street outside his window. An atmosphere that matched the desolate emptiness in his soul. The raw emotions etched on his face, a blend of anger and sorrow, betrayed the depths of his anguish. Memories of his life danced before his eyes, a bittersweet symphony playing in his mind, he allowed himself to drift. The throbbing ache in his head served as a constant reminder of the torment he couldn't escape. Cold steel parted his lips as his fingers raced across the surface of the smooth barrel, fumbling the slide. A sense of determination flickered in his eyes, momentarily overshadowing the despair. With trembling hands, he carefully loaded the gun, each click of the cartridges entering the tube echoed in the silent room. The weight of his decision pressed heavily upon him, yet a strange calmness settled within his soul.

Outside, the street lay still and quiet, it's only sign of life, the occasional flicker of a distant streetlamp. It seemed as though the world had ceased to exist, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his demons.

With a deep breath, he pushed the barrel further into his mouth gagging, his finger hovered over the trigger. Images of his past flashed before his eyes – moments of joy, moments of pain, moments that shaped him into the man he had become. The family he onced loved are all gone, victims to the the slaughter that would inevitably consume all life. With a silent prayer, he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. But instead of the deafening roar of a gunshot, all he heard was the soft click of the hammer striking an empty chamber. Startled, he opened his eyes to find the cartridges stacked neatly atop the table with an accompanying note "Oops...you missed try again". His heart plummeted as he hurled the long gun away and scrambled into a nearby corner. "Please, let it end... God, please," he murmured, his voice trailing off into a fragile whisper. Desperation clawed at him as he huddled in the corner, his mind consumed by fear. Moments later, a shrill cry, accompanied by sounds of struggle from outside, shattered the tension. Quietly, he crept toward the living room window, straining to locate the source of the hellish cacophony amidst the darkness. Cautiously peering through the window, a horrifying tableau unfolded before his eyes. A pack of ravenous dogs encircled a young mother and her daughter, their faces etched with terror. Tears streamed down the woman's battered face, her expression twisted in agony and distress as she tightly clung to her helpless child. In the midst of the gruesome scene, several hounds wrenched the child free from her trembling hands. The piercing screams of her child echoed through the air as she was mercilessly torn apart, limb by limb. Moments after, the mother was then set upon, her screams echoed alongside her daughter's. In that moment, a chilling realisation washed over him, "Hell is real".

Chapter 1: Bloom

Nothing is sweeter to the heart than the love of God, it is that same love that drives us to worship, to fall on our knees and beg for mercy at the slightest hint of our master's displeasure. When "He" calls we answer, we giveth of ourselves no matter the hour or the cost. I remember when I first heard "Him" call, it was during the early months of 1991 just before the cold chill of winter began to settle in. My wife, Sandra and I were tending to our farm animals before dinner, dusk was shrouded in a thick mist, casting eerie shadows across the farmyard. Sandra's voice, usually warm and comforting, seemed distant, swallowed by the encroaching darkness. As we worked, a sense of unease crept over me, like unseen eyes watching from the shadows. And then, in the stillness of the evening, I heard it—a faint whisper carried on the wind, beckoning me towards the woods beyond our land. Whispers were nauseatingly sweet, akin to the stench of rotting fruit. My heart quickened its pace, my knees buckled beneath my weight. I'd fallen on my knees as if showing humility to something or someone, a sensation of cold rooted me in place. Sandra paused, sensing the change in the air, her eyes flickering with a mix of concern and fear. But she didn't hear it: the haunting whisper seemed to call only to me.

With a trembling hand, I gestured towards the woods, my voice barely a whisper as I tried to convey the inexplicable pull I felt. Sandra's eyes widened in alarm, her grip tightening on my arm as she tried to bring me up into her arms, but I could not resist the siren call that seemed to emanate from the depths of the forest. "Become one, come to us", it repeated as if on a recorded loop, within minutes everything went dark and my mind became numb. Sometime later I awoke in a hospital bed surrounded by medical staff and Sandra, according to whom I'd had a stroke. The air in the hospital room hung heavy with unspoken tension, the weight of my inexplicable behavior pressing down on all of us. Sandra's eyes bore into mine, searching for answers that I myself couldn't provide. Every night, I would lie awake, haunted by the memory of that moment in the fields, the pull of the unknown consuming me from within. The doctors' explanations felt hollow, their diagnoses unable to penetrate the veil of darkness that shrouded my mind. And as the days stretched into weeks, I couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister lurked just beyond the edges of my consciousness, waiting to drag me back into the abyss.

The day of my homecoming on the first winter is when it all started, as the icy grip tightened around our small town, a sense of dread settled over us like a suffocating blanket. The once vibrant fields now lay barren and lifeless, the earth refusing to yield even a single blade of grass. The silence of the countryside was broken only by the mournful howling of the wind, carrying with it the echoes of unspeakable horrors lurking in the shadows. Each day brought new reports of livestock disappearing without a trace, their blood staining the snow-covered ground where they once grazed innocently. And as the days grew shorter and the nights longer, the darkness seemed to seep into every crevice of our existence, a palpable presence that whispered of doom and despair. With each passing day, the veil between reality and nightmare grew thinner, until it felt as though we were living in a world unhinged from the laws of nature. Whispers of ancient curses and vengeful spirits began to circulate among the townsfolk, desperate attempts to make sense of the madness that had descended upon us. Yet, no amount of superstition could explain away the horrors that unfolded before our eyes.

People vanished without a trace, their empty homes serving as grim reminders of the darkness that now consumed us. Fear became our constant companion, lurking in the shadows and tainting even the simplest moments of respite. And as the snow piled higher and the temperature plummeted, it seemed as though winter itself had become a manifestation of our collective despair, a relentless force bent on crushing us beneath its frozen weight.

But amidst the chaos and the despair, there flickered a glimmer of hope, a small flame that refused to be extinguished. For even in the darkest of nights, there are those who cling to the belief that light will eventually pierce the shadows, that salvation can be found even in the depths of despair. And so, we huddled together, each night, gathering around flickering candles, casting long shadows that danced across the walls like specters of our own fears, clinging to each other, determined to weather the darkness that threatened to consume us all.

Whispers of betrayal and treachery filled the air, the weight of paranoia pressing down on us like a suffocating fog. In the minds of many, one could be trusted, not even those closest to our hearts. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the wind outside, sent shivers down our spines, the fear of the unknown gnawing at the edges of our sanity.

And in the depths of the night, when sleep eluded us like a fleeting dream, we would lie awake, tormented by the echoes of our own tortured thoughts. The darkness seemed to stretch on forever, an abyss from which there could be no escape. For in a world where even the light had been swallowed by shadows, what hope was there left to cling to?

My neighbor Jim Clarke was among the first to go missing, his sister's frantic report marked the beginning of the disappearances. I remember growing up with him, he'd always been a creature of habit; his relentless need for connection, had always made him seem like a tragic figure consumed by his own fears. He'd have to check in constantly with his family during the day, or else he would have panic attacks. From the story I'd read in the local paper, a welfare check was conducted and authorities found nothing but eerie silence in his house. No sign of struggle, no trace of where he might have gone. Just an empty space, like Jim had never existed at all. Yet, amidst the silence, a sinister trail emerged, leading to a dilapidated cabin. Within, strewn across the floor, lay the entirety of a man's blood-soaked skin. That man, none other than Jim Clarke, now reduced to a gruesome ornament.

The community whispered about it for weeks, speculating on what could have happened to him. Many speculated that it was the work of a serial killer, while others assumed it was the work of some supernatural entity. Unbeknownst to all, the latter would be correct.

Hey everyone, this is an amateur writer. I wrote my first novel a year ago but never uploaded it on wattpad. Now when I have published it on wattpad; I request you to go through it. Open to all feedbacks. I would be glad if you take the the effort to do so.

Novel name: Alone Amongst the Foes.

Genere: Adventure; Fanfiction;

Based on Hasbro's Transformers Action Figures.

link to wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/1439482773-alone-amongst-the-foes-for-the-readers?utm_source=web&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share_reading

Thanks ya all.

Picture this: you're lying at home after a long and grueling day at work, bored out of your mind, nothing to eat. You figure that since you have gotten paid recently you should go out to eat somewhere fancy, perhaps the vegas strip. You walk along a busy street flooded with people and high end restaurants but one catches your eye, a seemingly cozy place called  “the cannibal cafe”. you think “what a morbid name” but you enter filled with curiosity, inside you are greeted by a dapper young man; “welcome to the cannibal cafe, please fill out this waiver if you are to continue this experience”. As you read through the terms and conditions you notice that something is off about this contract. “ In signing this form you agree to the conditions of consuming human meat, as well as allowing your flesh to be cooked and eaten by tomorrow's consumers”. You laugh and think to yourself “damn this fake contract looks so real”, you sit down and look over the menu as you read some of the strange meals they offer “human ribs”, “brain stir fried rice”, “fried fingers”, you decide to order the “foot tacos”. You eat and pay but  As your about to leave your waiter approaches you “sir, please sit back down we are about to collect meat for tomorrow's consumers” as you sit back down the waiters pass out wine glasses containing a weird red liquid to each table, the head chef steps up and proclaims “greetings consumers, we have passed out our kool aid laced with cyanide and we kindly ask you to please drink it so that we may use your flesh to feed future consumers''. The people around you drink the liquid and proceed to drop dead like flies, as you realize the morbid reality of your situation you run as fast as you can to the door before two staff members stop you, they hold you down as you scream “please i didn't know this was real i want to leave, i don't want to die!!” but your cries are met with silence as the chef takes one of the drinks and forces it down your throat as you kick and scream and beg for your life. You never made it out, you died a horrible death and your body was later used for a family of 6 the next night.

This is my first story I've written so plz don't judge to hard but if you have any ways the story can be improved lmk!

I am dabbling with a new dystopian horror idea, and I'm curious if anyone would be interested in the idea. I am not super familiar with the horror genre or market, and I don't really know how much detail in horror is too much, and what is considered appropriate, so I'd love to hear any thoughts.

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After centuries of using fossil fuels, the world has finally run out of them. Scientists have discovered a way to convert humans into the fossil fuels needed to keep electricity running, but this method is inefficient since one life can only create a few hours of electricity.

The scientists start to experiment with a parasite that can join a human and can make it so the human's life can be indefinitely harvested in place of fossil fuels by feeding it and converting its body into coal.

But when they run out of feed for the parasite, the parasite is desperate for more food. The human host and the parasite are left to find more to feed on, while the host battles with whether to get revenge on the scientists that made them into this or to try to escape, all while battling with the hunger the parasite gives him.

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This story would involve a lot of gore, body horror, and death within it. I'm not sure if I want to pursue this project long-term, but I'd be curious if horror-enjoyers would be interested in reading it.

The stench. That's what woke her. The smell of something rotten filled her nose, her mouth—her head. All other smells were sent out. It was just rotten odours now. She opened her watering eyes. A mixture of onion and vomit powered her tastebuds—it's from the smell. What is that smell? Where?

Tanya jumped up from her bed and stood in the dark. Arms stretched out, like a zombie, making her way to where she thinks the light switch is—where she knows it should be. Her feet felt through littered shirts and underwear sprawled along the rug. The rotting smell is all over, seeping through the cracked apartment walls, sinking into the carpet, the clothes, skin—like a smoker contaminating their belongings with the stench of their favourite aroma. Tanya felt for the switch on the wall and flicked it—nothing, just darkness. Tanya felt for the doorknob. The cold brass, embedded with time, embedded with the dirt of past tenants, uncleaned by careless landlords, turned.

More foul odours poured into the bedroom—sewage, burning garbage, and something very rotten. Tanya clasped her mouth and nose, peering into the hallway—pitch black. The stench was like airborne ooze. She felt it, thick, like hot heat slumped onto her tired body. She pushed through, not noticing how cold it was until her foot made contact with the linoleum.

Socks. That would be nice.

i love short horror story but have never written before so i decided to try my hand at it. i want whatever critique that i can get however harsh you want to make it as i need to improve somehow

heres the story i feel its a bit short and would also like tips for making it feel longer

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My limbs were getting too long.

​

It was around 8:30 pm when I noticed. I was scrolling through reddit when I had to pee, so I got up and went to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I saw that my pants weren't reaching my ankles. It was odd because earlier, when I put them on, they were a bit too long. I ignored it for the moment and went back to bed. By the time I got back, it was already 9 pm, so I went to sleep.

When I woke up, it was still dark outside. I felt a massive pain and, at the same time, no sense of touch in my limbs. When I opened my eyes, I screamed. I looked at my arm, stretching and reaching until it touched the wall. The pain I felt was my arm growing and pushing against the wall. As I sit here and use text-to-speech to write this on the last sub i was browsing when i went to sleep, my limbs have grown almost an inch. I pray that whatever has caused this hasn't affected my mother in the next room.

Hello, I'm an aspiring author in highschool and I would like some tips on how to get better at writing and developing my stories. I currently am working on 3 horror storys and would love some advice.