Horror Jigsaw Puzzle Novels & Stories

My eyes looked around the room, the darkness making room for the various pictures of people that reminded me of him, each had the basic look of him, silver hair, and a lithe frame, but I could not remember his face. The cruelest curse, I remember none of his features, I spent hours just looking and rearranging his face in my mind, but nothing looked right nothing was ever right and the frustration led me to madness. I discarded the blanket and turned up my humidifier, the smell of milk and sea salt permeated the room I took a deep breath and walked to the biggest poster in the room, it looked like a jigsaw puzzle. I was almost complete except for the gaping hole here his face lied, discarded

After setting her alarm, she went to bed. I looked out at the cold, dark night. It was about 14 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I thought it was fortunate that I was dead. If I'd stayed out, I would've become a human popsicle. I flipped through Mom's schedule. She was on the afternoon shift tomorrow. I recalled what I read in a book about mortuary restoration. By tomorrow afternoon, I would look all the more terrible. I wondered if Mom would cry if she saw my corpse. Mom was awakened by a call from the police. They finally found my family's contact.

He had to move. He snatched the cube. It was cold and vibrated unpleasantly in his hands. He dashed back toward the carriage, but as he drew near, the cube pulsed violently. A ghoul—a smoky, semi-corporeal horror with glowing red eyes and clawed hands—materialized from the shadows and slammed into him.

Total party wipe incoming. Before long, it was time to choose rooms. Elaine explained that while no one had ever cleared this scenario, past players had figured out a few things. The building had thirty floors, one apartment per floor, and only one player could stay in each. “Happy Home,” she continued, was actually a role-playing horror scenario. Each apartment housed strange entities that would act as your family or loved ones. So, seven days of living together with them? There was no way your Fear Value wouldn’t spike.

When I did, I knew I’d found what I was looking for. Twin bed crammed into the corner. A messy pile of sheets and blankets piled up in its center. Dirty clothes strewn all over the floor. The wall facing the door had a small wooden children’s-sized desk against it that had been extended with plywood wings which were mounted on mismatched metal brackets. It held a compact stereo set with a turntable and a cassette tape deck. On top of it sat a plastic skull, a huge tangle of wire, and a handful of tiny pulleys. Shelves covered the wall behind the desk and nearly every surface was packed with books, video tapes, magazines, records, toy models, tools, pens, and various unidentified bits of elec

“Okay, it’s almost time. Let me introduce the rules of the game to you. Today’s game is divided into three series. It’s very simple.” Jack’s cold voice reached Brent’s mind accurately through the sensor. “The first series is a jigsaw puzzle game. On the screen in front of you, there will be a hundred round wireframes. There are a hundred little girls inside. You have to find out the difference. The time limit is three minutes. If you fail the challenge within the stipulated time, see the iron rod at the bottom of the screen? It will be inserted directly into your mouth.” As soon as he finished speaking, the live broadcast room was in a frenzy.

I hurried over and tapped the man. "Hey, are you okay?" My hand touched his back, and I froze. A chill ran through me. I turned him over. Every muscle in me locked up. It was the guy from 603. He had multiple stab wounds to the chest, blood soaking his clothes and the mattress beneath him. I nearly collapsed to the floor. What the hell was going on? "Are you out of your fucking mind?" A furious shout rang out from downstairs. It was Jacob. Worried he might run into the killer somewhere in the building, I pushed open the stairwell door and hurried downstairs. In the darkness, my foot struck something, and I nearly tumbled down the stairs.

It was a total nightmare for my OCD. Gritting my teeth, I ripped out all his stitches. "This is crazy! You got my clean sheets filthy! How am I supposed to sleep tonight?" Once the threads were removed, he rapidly disassembled. Talk about a flat-pack husband! Ignoring his protests, I threw his disassembled body parts into the bathtub one by one to scrub them clean. Once they were spotless, I pieced them back together and stitched him back up using new yarn. Another comment floated across the screen: [Does she really not know this is a horror game? How can she talk about it so calmly?]

Her mouth was stretched wide in a horrifying shriek. A wave of pure hatred rolled off her, so cold it burned the air. The chat stirred to life again. [Here we go! Classic jump scare!] [That's one of the manor's most vicious ghosts! It feeds on the players' fear!] [This newbie is toast! She won't even have time to react!] [I can already picture her getting torn to shreds...] But I didn't scream. I didn't run. Of course, my heart condition chose that exact moment to flare up. The pain was so bad I could barely stand.

“Fran!” I didn’t notice I’d lowered the beam a few inches, just enough for the foul thing to crawl up to the ceiling toward me. Kujo’s warning made me look up again, in time to see it pulling from an old light fixture right above my head. The damn thing was fast and strong, and it tore the fixture off in a single yank, while I still tried to figure out what it was doing. I was hardly able to jump to the side to dodge it. The fixture crashed on the floor, the noise echoing all over the tunnels. The crawler growled, angry he’d missed me, but took the distraction to jump to the open door and run away. “Go, Kujo!” I cried. “Go help Gina!”