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C104 On This Side
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2026-05-15 11:33:04The bathroom light is a hum—a low-frequency, relentless vibration that has begun to sound like a choir of cicadas screaming inside my skull. It is a fluorescent tube flickering on the verge of death, casting a sickly, jaundiced pallor over the white tiles and the porcelain sink. I haven't moved my neck in fourteen hours. My muscles are no longer screaming; they have transcended pain and entered a state of crystalline fragility, as if my tendons would snap like dry glass if
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Horror Nights C104 On This Side
The bathroom light is a hum—a low-frequency, relentless vibration that has begun to sound like a choir of cicadas screaming inside my skull. It is a fluorescent tube flickering on the verge of death, casting a sickly, jaundiced pallor over the white tiles and the porcelain sink. I haven't moved my neck in fourteen hours. My muscles are no longer screaming; they have transcended pain and entered a state of crystalline fragility, as if my tendons would snap like dry glass if I so much as twitched.I am still in my bathroom, and I’ve been staring at my own reflection for 14 hours straight now. Because every time I look away, it tries to climb out of the mirror.It started at 4:12 AM. I had woken up thirsty, the kind of dry-mouthed desperation that drives you to the nearest tap. I didn't turn on the hallway lights, navigating by the silver ghost-light of a waning moon. When I reached the bathroom and flicked the switc
Horror Nights C103 The Wrong Number
My name is Chloe, and this happened last Saturday.The movie was The Umbrella Man. Everyone was talking about it. I wanted to see it with my friends—Emma, Sophie, and Lily. We'd been planning for weeks, but the week got away from us, and suddenly it was Friday night and I hadn't confirmed the time. No problem. I'd just call them.Emma was first. I dialed her home number, the same one I'd used a hundred times. It rang twice. Then a man picked up."Hello?""Hi, is Emma there?"A pause. Then: "You've got the wrong number."The line went dead.I stared at my phone. Wrong number? I'd definitely dialed correctly. The number was saved in my contacts. I checked. Yes, Emma's house, the one she'd lived in for six years. Had she moved? She hadn't mentioned anything.I shrugged and called Sophie.
Horror Nights C102 The Roommate
The apartment was a rare find for two university students: affordable, renovated, and located just ten minutes from the main campus gates. It had that "new paint" smell that promised a fresh start. Lin had the bedroom on the left, and her roommate, Sarah, had the one on the right. They shared a cozy living room that was usually filled with the scent of lavender candles and the hum of Lo-fi study beats.For the first few weeks, the place was a sanctuary. It was clean, tidy, and blissfully quiet. But as the autumn chill began to seep through the window frames, the silence started to feel… heavy.It began on a Tuesday. Lin was lying in bed, the blue light of her phone illuminating her face as she scrolled through lecture notes. The house was silent, save for the distant sound of a car passing by outside. Then, she heard it.Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.It was a sharp, dry sound, c
Horror Nights C101 The Blind Lady
My name is Clara, and I needed money. That's the only reason I answered the ad. "Elderly blind woman seeks live-in nanny for summer. Generous pay. Private room. No experience required." It sounded too good to be true, and as we all know, things that sound too good to be true usually are. But my student loans weren't going to pay themselves.The house was at the end of a gravel road that wound through woods so dense the sunlight seemed to give up halfway down. Mrs. Hargrove met me at the door with a smile that didn't quite reach her milky, sightless eyes. She was thin, almost skeletal, her white hair pulled into a tight bun. Her hand when she shook mine was cold and dry, like grasping a lizard."Come in, dear," she said. "I've been expecting you."The interior was dark. Heavy velvet curtains blocked every window. Mrs. Hargrove navigated by memory, her fingers trailing along walls, her feet shuffling acros
Horror Nights C100 The Glass Eye
The attic was a place of stagnant air and preserved memories, smelling of dust-moted sunlight and aged cedar. It was my sanctuary. While others found the unblinking stares of vintage porcelain dolls unsettling, I found them comforting. They were static; they were honest. I spent my Saturday evenings in the rhythmic ritual of rearranging them, ensuring that Lady Genevieve’s lace didn’t touch the velvet of the Harlequin, and that the smaller bisque infants were tucked safely into the shadows of the larger Victorian ladies.The only sound was the occasional groan of the old house settling and the soft snip-snip of my shears as I trimmed a loose thread from a silk bodice. Then, without a flicker of warning, the world vanished.The darkness wasn’t gradual. It was a heavy, suffocating blanket that dropped over my head. The hum of the space heater died, replaced by a silence so profound I could hear the ru
Horror Nights C99 The Detective
The copper tang of iron was the first thing to greet me, thick enough to coat the back of my throat. I stepped over the threshold of Apartment 4B, my boots crunching on something brittle. I didn't need to look down to know it was a fragment of the decorative ceramic vase that used to sit on the foyer table. I adjusted my spectacles, the plastic frames feeling slippery against my sweating skin, and pulled the yellow police tape taut behind me.The blood was across the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. It was a masterpiece of violent geometry—arcs of crimson sprayed with the precision of a Jackson Pollock painting, if the artist had traded his brushes for a jagged edge. In the center of the living room, the victim lay in a twisted heap, a silent exclamation point at the end of a very loud struggle.I pulled a small notepad from my breast pocket. My hands were steady—unnervingly so. As the lead forensic investigator
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