Poems Horror Novels & Stories

********* Revenge The dim light flickered above like a dying star, casting trembling shadows that danced across the blood-slick walls of the abandoned warehouse. Every flicker painted the room in brief, distorted glimpses of horror. The scent of iron hung thick in the air—so dense it could’ve been sliced with a blade. It coated the back of the throat like rusted chains, choking, clinging, as if the building itself had absorbed every scream ever spilled inside its walls and now breathed it all back in one long, exhaling groan of despair.

I’d heard there were places where you could rent the tapes for a lot less than what they cost to buy, but it hadn’t changed my mind. I started towards the doorway with the curtain but stopped short by the tapes next to it. This section was at least twice the size of all the others. The covers of these boxes were all screams and knives. Bloody chainsaws and heaving breasts. The sign resting here was carefully drawn in black gothic type letters, each dripping red: “Horror.” Hanging by a piece of tape off every other shelf were letter-sized flyers exactly like the ones that man was putting on windshields out at the Farm and Fleet. I peeled one off to get a closer look.

The sight before Lisa was both haunting and macabre. Two lifeless bodies lay sprawled on the forest floor, their contorted forms telling a tale of violence and death. The stench of decay hung heavily in the air, assaulting her senses and intensifying her feelings of horror and disgust. She approached cautiously, her steps hesitant, unwilling to disturb the grim tableau before her. The moon's feeble light cast eerie shadows, painting a ghastly portrait of the lifeless figures. Lisa's heart raced, her mind racing to comprehend the ghastly scene unfolding before her eyes.

“Like it’s been burnt – like it’s dead. The next line, it ends with the word hearse. Then, okay: wave, tidal curse – to me, anyway, that sounds like a tsunami, or some sort of deadly environmental catastrophe. And the scariest bit? The word looming.” “How do you know so much about poetry?” I asked. I kept my eyes fixed on the road ahead, but I so desperately wanted to turn as she spoke. Her voice was vibrant, coloured with interest and curiosity. I saw her shrug from the corner of my eye. “We studied it in school recently. I guess some of it stuck. Anyway – I’d tread carefully, Ari. He’s given it to you for a reason. And it definitely sounds as though something is coming. The flood plain is

“Yes, horror is the only modern genre that’s as fatalistic as classical tragedy. But one is considered by critics to be the pinnacle of fiction and the other is considered the nadir.” “You know you get the cutest little furrow in your brow when you get all serious.” “Blow me,” said Sam chucking a zippo at Jimmy’s head. “Only if you furrow your brow for me.” Jimmy took a hit from the bong and said, “You’ve thought quite a bit about this haven’t you?” “Yeah, I have. It means something y’know. The ancients used mythology as a way of exploring a lot of important, unspoken things about their lives. The closest thing we have to that is horror, it’s our way of exploring the unspoken matters in life

Together I woke up with a heavy feeling. It’s like there’s a heavy rock on top of me. And i felt like something is liking my face. I forcely opened my eyes and a light from the window hit my eyes. The thing who's liking my face is a fucking dog. I hate dogs the most! I wanted to pushed away the dog from me but my body is jailed by a demon. The Demon is named Seymour Rios Evans, sleeping peacefully beside me while his arms are hugging my waist and chest tightly.

Were they afraid I might fall to my death, or were they hoping for it? I was certain it was the latter. I spread my arms wide and with my eyes turning red, I opened my mouth, allowing the winds to carry my words to them down below Let it rain, hail and brimstone, My dead bones has risen, I’ve returned, the unforgiven dead. By ash and bone, by blood and blight, I call the darkness to take its bite. Let sickness rot their flesh and breath, Let every dawn bring closer death. Let fever scorch their brittle veins,

A scream tore through Lilith's lips, and she crawled away from the grave in sheer terror, panting heavily. As fear consumed her, Lilith felt a presence behind her. Slowly, she turned around, trembling with trepidation. To her astonishment, the dead girl stood there, her sad expression unchanged. They locked eyes, but the dead girl remained silent, her ghostly presence sending shivers down Lilith's spine. Overwhelmed by the sight of the apparition, Lilith rose to her feet and scrambled out of the woods, screaming in fear with each step.

Heather screamed as the dreaded liquid entered her mouth, and she puked. Gathering her energy, she called for the intruder. “Who is there?” The footsteps rushed on the floor above her. Heather heard them clearly. She opted to analyze where they went. ‘Was someone conspiring to kill her?’ She mused. Eager to find the culprit, she signed her fear away for the night and ambled ahead into the harrowing tragedy awaiting her. The sky thundered, but Heather kept going forward with short and hesitant steps, her maxi dress flew with the breeze. Holding the sides in her fists, she continued her mission to search for the terror that surrounded the mansion. She scrutinized every nook and corner. Her hea

My surroundings exude a malevolent aura, and the very air is laced with an unsettling chill. As I race through the nightmarish woods, the horrifying howls of the black wolf reverberate through my very soul, causing a paralyzing dread to coil within me. Its presence is an ever-present menace, haunting me like a relentless spectre. I know it is there, somewhere, even though I cannot see it but there is no denying it’s bone-shrilling howl.