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C109 The Painting

作者: Inky LL
last update 公開日: 2026-05-16 11:35:09

The call dropped. I stared at my phone screen, at the red "Call Failed" message, and felt something cold slide down my spine. Emma and I had been on the phone for the last ten minutes, trying to find each other in this godforsaken building. We'd entered together, gotten separated in the stairwell, and now, according to our phones, we were both on the same floor.

But the hallway stretched empty in both directions. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickeri

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  • Horror Nights   C119 Share

    The moon was a sickly sliver of bone hanging over the outskirts of the city, providing just enough light for Arthur to see the frost on his own breath. He stood at the edge of a gravel road, checking his watch for the tenth time. It was nearly 2:00 AM. The city lights were a faint, amber smudge on the horizon, and his own house lay miles away in a remote area where the streetlamps were more suggestion than reality. He didn't want to walk; the distance was daunting, and the silence of the countryside felt heavy. He decided to wait, clinging to the hope that a final bus might still be running.He waited and waited, the cold seeping through the soles of his shoes. Just as he was about to give up and begin the long trek, two twin orbs of pale light cut through the darkness. A bus rattled toward him, its engine a low, rhythmic thrum. Relieved, Arthur stepped to the edge of the road and flagged it down. The doors hissed open with a sound like a dy

  • Horror Nights   C118 The Knock

    The St. Jude’s Foreign Language Academy was an institution of cold stone and stricter discipline. Located on the outskirts of a city that seemed to forget it existed, the school’s dormitories were hushed hives of high-achieving students. But for the past fortnight, the silence had been punctured by a rhythmic, unsettling sound.It started at the stroke of midnight. A woman in a red dress, vibrant and clashing against the dim, institutional grey of the hallways, began making her rounds. She was a ghost in the machinery of their security; no one could explain how she bypassed the heavy iron gates or the night warden’s desk downstairs. Yet, she came every night, her heels clicking a sharp, relentless tempo as she knocked on every single door.The routine was always the same. A soft, insistent thump-thump followed by a whispered inquiry that seemed to seep through the wood of the doors: "Do you want

  • Horror Nights   C117 Growth

    Ten days have passed, and his enlargement hasn't stopped. He's beginning to be afraid.It began subtly. A strange hunger that no amount of food could satisfy. He woke one morning to find his pajamas tight across the shoulders. He shrugged it off—maybe the laundry had shrunk them. But by the time he finished breakfast, the waistband of his trousers was digging into his stomach. He loosened his belt a notch and went to work.That was the first day.On the second day, his coworkers noticed. "Did you grow taller?" someone asked. He hadn't measured, but his desk chair felt lower. The bathroom mirror showed his reflection standing an inch above where it should. His shoes pinched. He took them off and walked barefoot.On the third day, he couldn't fit into his car. The steering wheel pressed against his chest. He called in sick and stayed home, watching his hands swell like rising do

  • Horror Nights   C116 The Red String

    The fluorescent lights of St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital flickered with a rhythmic, dying hum that echoed the exhaustion in Dr. Aris Thorne’s bones. It was 2:14 AM. He had just spent twelve hours sewing together the victims of a multi-car pileup on the I-95. His hands, usually as steady as granite, were beginning to tremble with the onset of a caffeine crash. The smell of iodine and stale coffee seemed etched into the lining of his lungs.Aris adjusted his spectacles and unbuttoned his white coat, draping it over his arm. The hospital was unnaturally quiet at this hour, a cathedral of sanitized silence. He navigated the sterile corridors toward the central elevator bank, his footsteps sounding like gunshots on the polished linoleum. He just wanted to find his sedan, drive home, and sleep for a century.When he reached the elevators, the silver doors slid open with a soft chime. Inside stood a nurse. He recognized he

  • Horror Nights   C115 The Prey

    The fog in Blackwood Glen had a habit of swallowing sounds, turning the evening into a claustrophobic dampness that clung to my jacket. I had been hiking the lower trails when I found it: a sleek, charcoal-colored cat with eyes like burning sulfur. It wasn’t meowing; it was simply sitting on a moss-covered stump, watching me with an intelligence that felt uncomfortably human. Around its neck was a delicate silver collar with a nameplate: Midnight. Below the name was an address just a mile down the trail.Being a person who couldn't ignore a creature in the cold, I tucked the heavy cat under my arm. It didn’t struggle. In fact, it purred—a deep, rhythmic vibration that seemed to resonate inside my own chest, making my pulse slow down to a sluggish crawl.The house was a sagging Victorian structure, hidden behind a veil of overgrown ivy and weeping willows. It looked like it was being slowly pulled back into t

  • Horror Nights   C114 Forgotten

    The ocean is no longer blue. It is a thick, churning soup of grey and chemical slick, reflecting a sky that has forgotten the warmth of the sun. I sit on the edge of a crumbling skyscraper in what was once called Neo-Tokyo, watching the toxic tides rise. My skin is the texture of cured leather, and my bones click like dry bamboo in the wind. I should be dust. I should be a memory. Instead, I am an echo that refuses to fade.It was exactly five hundred and forty-two years ago. I remember the date because it was the day I was supposed to marry Elena. I had been a young man then, full of the foolish arrogance that comes with a strong pulse. A freak accident—a collapsing balcony, a scream, a sudden plunge into darkness—and there he was.He didn't look like the cloaked skeleton of the storybooks. He looked like a tired bureaucrat in a grey suit, carrying a ledger that hummed with the soft vibration of a billion ending

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