Horror App Novels & Stories

It just couldn’t. …Or could it? "Iza, my God, what’s wrong with you?" the redhead was genuinely scared now and rushed to the kitchen to drip some sedative into a glass. "Here, drink this, sweetheart. What happened to you? I’ll delete all those apps of yours!" "No!" I hiccupped through hysteria and lunged for my phone. "That’s it! The phone!" My hands shaking, I grabbed it and frantically opened the app. I burst into fresh tears when I saw the payment for the next month had gone through and everything was unlocked. In desperation, I subscribed to every possible promo and “super offer” available—but… nothing.

I opened the app store and typed in “séance.” Stupid. I knew it was stupid. But I didn’t have a dusty old Ouija board or some gothic medium on speed dial. I had my phone. And right now, it was the only thing between me and the silence. I picked one with decent reviews: “SpiritLink: Connect with the Beyond.” It had the kind of silly interface you’d expect, candles, a board, swirling letters. But it said it used “energy-sensitive microphone response.” Whatever. I just wanted a way to call him.

The others turned toward us, confusion in their expressions. “It’s just a precaution,” I said. “A safeguard, in case the app’s data ever falls into the wrong hands.” Romilly folded her arms. “What kind of code?” “A virus,” Rex answered. “A self-destruct mechanism. One command, and it wipes the entire app.” Dariel inhaled sharply. “You’d destroy the Radiant App?” “If it means making sure those bastards never get their hands on what we’ve built yes,” I said without flinching. “If there’s a major breach, if they gain stable access and start pulling data…”

“Ooo! I know! You should d******d the Sleeze app. It helps people connect with friends that they lost contact with. There's even a crazy section where people randomly start speaking with other people with the aim of becoming friends.” She laughed, and I joined in her laughter. Although my mind was already thinking of how I could certainly use a new friend. Someone who doesn't know anything about me, I can be who I want to be with that person. “I'll check it out. Thanks,” I said before ending the call. I quickly went to my app store to get the app. It had a pretty nice interface, and they didn't ask about personal details when I signed up, so I guess the app seemed pretty cool.

’ Mary asked. ‘Well since our lovely Eira wants to forever carry children for strangers, I found the perfect app for it.’ Eira scoffed giving them a pointed look. ‘What app?’ Fatima asked placing her chin on Bushra’s shoulder. ‘It’s called a Surrogate App, you just fill in your bio with your surrogacy history and they help you find a client. Sort of like a dating app, the only difference is that you wait for them to message you first inquiring about it. Then you set up a meeting, and well the rest goes from there.’ Bushra explained. And, so began the fascination for the app. She was able to create an account and fill in the most important details, and even added a few pictures of herself. It

' Mike thought, leaning toward the screen and squinting at the white-haired boy. "If you get any closer, you'll be in the picture with them," his brother scathed, observing him from across the room. Mike made a scoffing sound and quickly scrolled away from the picture before his brother noticed it was a couple of guys. "I heard about this new app today," his brother said, leaning over him. "It shows you how you die." "Yeah, right." Mike tutted. "That sounds like the start of a bad horror movie." His brother plonked himself onto the sofa beside him, making the pillows dip drastically, and pulled the laptop from his hands.

I haven’t been listening to Liz and when I tune in she’s talking about the new guy she met on mythinder. It’s a dating app for mythical beings meet up to hook up. The weirdos she’s found on there are insanely weird thought. Supposedly there are vampires, sirens, and were-bears on there. I’ve only met other werewolves, so the thought of there being others out there puts me on edge. I’ve told her crazy ass not to use the app anymore but she thinks it’s fun. She says the sex is good and swears were-bears have the biggest dicks. “I’m worried you’re going to end up chopped up and thrown into a bag,” I tell her.

Seated at the rooftop of her house Cassandra stared at the skyline of New Orleans for the millionth time and, again the same thought plagued her mind, ‘Darkness bounds within her; Andrea says it’s destructive, yet she’s a human, not a ghost. If it consumed her in its cage, why doesn’t it kill her? … so, she can transform into a blood-sucking monster crawling people’s heart out and devour it until the last shred of it disappears.’ The noxious craving of death isn’t new nor old, it’s deceptive as the month of Halloween.

Mine didn't. I scrolled through the recommended titles, a blur of bloodied faces and ominous fonts. None of them worked for me. Just jump scares and screaming women, fear dressed up for Halloween. I closed the app and set the screen facedown on the bed. The light vanished, and for the first time tonight, the quiet crawled in around me. My phone lay untouched on the nightstand, screen dark. I told myself I was only checking the time. 9:07 PM. The location-sharing icon caught my eye, glowing faintly in the corner.

Darkblood Count SMILED. [Okay, this little she-wolf might actually be onto something. No one survives him this long.] That eerie system voice woke me up again: [Initial players: 30. Current players: 15.] One night in, and five were monster food. Three others? They must've gone through something awful. Fear ratings hit 100. Then I got a message from one of the mages, Mara: [Yaya, are you okay? I should've warned you. The first three days, you have to bond with your 'family' fast. This is everything I know—take it as an apology for forcing you onto the 30th floor.]