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#horrorfiction
daniel-profeta · 3 months
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The Knife
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You are so fucking tired of the potholes. Lately it’s been raining more and more and now it’s pouring down from the heavens with a vengeance, filling the pesky holes in the road and making it impossible to navigate properly. You could kill someone right now with the amount of rage you feel, but you somehow manage to hold yourself together as you barrel down the street. You make a left turn and head into the woods just outside of what used to be your home.
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The city is in shambles. The world is going to heal without you, but it has changed so drastically since the return of the demons. You drive haphazardly through the trees as the truck nearly spins out of control multiple times. The radio plays some poppy 80s songs as you wonder how any stations are still active. So much doesn’t make sense, but none of it matters anymore because you’ve lost the only thing you ever actually cared about. They ruined your life. This planet was already dying, you had known for a long time and had been preparing for years. You had always considered yourself to be more cultured and intelligent than the hicks that used to live out here, but you committed fully to your bunker and prep work. What you hadn’t counted on was the weirdness of it all. The impossibility of how events had actually played out. Now your family was dead, and it was entirely your fault. The trees sway in the wind and the leaves darken the sky above you as lighting flashes become your main source of illumination. Though it was supposed to be midday, you could never take vision for granted any longer. Not after how many illusions you have fallen victim to already. You change the station and park the car. Deep in the woods you contemplate your family’s terrible fate as you pull out a pack of cigarettes. Vaping has not really been an option since the beginning of the end. The radio is now playing some pretentious hipster shit. You roll down a window and let the engine run. Some rain gets in and eats away at the mat on the floor, but you couldn’t care less. Your fingers move to your lips as you take a long slow drag, letting the ashes fall to the floor of the truck. Your mind clears and you look around at the filthy vehicle. You’ve got a large pistol lying on the seat next to you and you reach out to cradle it in your filthy hands. This is what became of you. You built a good stable life for yourself, and you were anything but content with it! The gun fits snugly into your palm, as it had just hours before when you tried to defend yourself. The reason you came out here was to go down in a fight against them, but unfortunately you see nothing but blurry trees as it keeps raining. You could have sworn they retreated into the woods, but now you find you’re questioning your own memory. That’s been happening more and more lately. Lightning flashes again. You breathe in another lungful, wishing the smoke would just choke you and be done with it.
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Some idiot on the radio starts to introduce the next song. It’s called Lightning in a Bottle. You are just about to change the station, but the irony of the title stops you. It starts playing, and of course it’s some gimmicky indie folk garbage, but it gets you thinking. Your whole life you’ve been trying to make things work. Trying to control the situation despite bad circumstances or being dealt a shitty hand. Many years ago, before you lost touch with the larger world around you, mom had said something that had stayed with you your whole life. She said you were destined for greatness. She could simply feel it and there was no question about it, you were going to do something incredibly special and important with your life. You were supposed to be someone worth being. But here it feels like you have lost the only people you ever helped. No one has ever benefited from your presence in any meaningful way, and it looks like no one ever would. A single tear falls onto the steering wheel as the song continues in the background. It is followed by a river rivalling the downpour outside. You’ve been holding back for an exceptionally long time, and since your loss you have been unable to grieve. You just had to take it in stride, the same way the uncaring universe has taken everything from you for as long as you can remember. Mom died only 6 years ago. Good thing she passed while she still had faith in her dreams for you. You had taken everything from her, you stole her youth, her financial stability, and you drove her apart from your father. Despite her claims to the contrary, you had always known the truth. You blink rapidly but it does nothing to stop your cries. Your body spasms. The song starts to shift and change.
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Buzzzing. A persistent and grating buzzing cuts through the sound of acid rain splattering and sizzling on the roof and hood. You attempt to compose yourself but find it impossible. They finally decided to show up. This is where they will kill you. This is where everything will fall apart for good. Their formless bodies will smother you and their mouths and hands will tear flesh from bone and atom from atom.
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The world around you starts to spin, slowly at first but picking up speed. The stupid song on the radio seems to distort and the lyrics get weirdly specific. Then the wind outside calms and the spinning stops as you focus and inhale again. Toss the cigarette out the window. Watch its light go out. Feel the world slow down as you steel yourself for a fight. Hands tighten on your weapon, finger on the trigger. These are your hands. This is your last moment, your final stand. Most people aren’t given notice before they die. You’re one of the lucky few who can pinpoint the exact moment. Your perspective changes so much when you’re facing the unknown. The ultimate change. You realize they aren’t going to get you. You realize you always knew it. You realize you won’t let them have the satisfaction. You realize this is what you wanted anyway. You open the door and step out as the music fades into the background, turning robotic and alien. When will that damn song end? Was the world just an illusion? Why are you still stalling? What are you waiting for?
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You look around as an incredible wave of peace washes over you. It’s difficult to believe just how calm you are as you squint at the tree line searching for signs of movement. You see nothing as you raise your hands. A flash of light blinds you and the song is finally gone, replaced by nothing. You fall to the ground, leaves and dirt scattering from your impact. Your ears are ringing. Your eyes open and you realize you are lying on your side. Blood is pouring like thoughts out from you. The gun you dropped is too far to reach now and wave after wave of pain starts to radiate from your head, buzzzing out throughout your entire body. You feel something sharp in the small of your back. Why are you still alive? What is this torture they devised for you? Why didn’t your weapon strike true, the way it had struck your only child when you thought she was one of them. Why did it now fail you and leave you unable to move or think as the world fades in and out with each halting breath you take? The pain in your back has gone numb. Not that it matters… Your bullet wound in your skull is enough to give you more screaming nerves than you had ever encountered in your life. You scream and try to get up, only to move a couple inches and fall to your back, looking up at the sky as the rain pours down. You scream again as the acid rain stabs your eyes and blinds you. Colors mix and change and distort like a watercolor painting as you try to scream again. But this time nothing comes out. You close your eyes. The rain eats through your eyelids and gets in anyway. Not even the tears are keeping the rain out. Your skin burns. This is how you will die, alone and unwanted, unable to even take your own life. Then you reach behind yourself and claw at the numbness in your back, pulling a small knife out. Where the hell did this come from? This blessed rusty knife with a red hilt is the kindest thing you have. You hold it above your heaving chest and plunge it downwards. You feel resistance give way and you feel a mild foreign presence enter your skin. But it doesn’t really hurt as all your pain is falling away. You almost feel like you’re watching yourself as you lift the knife out, slide it to a new point in your chest, and bring it up and down again. Again. Again. Now your hands move to your belly and you try again, but this time your arms are too weak. You have a sense of strange tunnel vision, and you see pale glowing eyes surround you. But you don’t care. You got to yourself before they did. A sudden burst of flame and light strikes down, burns away the eyes, and sets you free.
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At least, that’s what you saw at the end. Who knows how real any of it was? You’re floating now. Watching it all play out. Alone. You used to fear dying alone, but now you realize you only ever feared the not knowing. This isn’t so bad. This isn’t so bad. This was never all that bad.
song i wrote based on this story. thx for reading!!
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writtenfromadarkness · 10 months
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itusebastian · 1 year
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The Undead Horde of Ravenwood
A Battle for Survival
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In the quiet of the night, the town of Ravenwood lay still. A thin mist hung low, casting a pall over the desolate streets. It was then that the first moan was heard, echoing from an alleyway. A moment later, a figure lurched into view, its footsteps jerky and uneven.
It was a zombie.
Its eyes were empty, its flesh mottled and decayed. The stench of death hung heavy in the air. As it shambled down the street, it let out a low gurgling growl, like the rumble of distant thunder.
Soon, others followed. One, then two, then a dozen. They came from all directions, drawn to the sound of their own kind. The town of Ravenwood had been cursed, their once peaceful inhabitants turned into the undead by some unknown force.
As they moved through the streets, the zombies left a trail of destruction in their wake. Doors hung from their hinges, windows shattered. The silence of the night was shattered by the sound of shuffling feet and broken glass.
In the center of town, a lone figure stood in the street. Alek, a seasoned adventurer, had been sent to investigate the mysterious disappearance of the townspeople. As he watched the horde of zombies approach, he drew his sword.
It was clear that these creatures were beyond reason or communication. They were driven by a single purpose, to kill anything that stood in their path. With a deep breath, Alek steeled himself for the coming battle.
The first zombie fell easily, its rotten flesh no match for his blade. But there were too many of them, and they kept coming. Alek fought with all his might, his arms a blur as he struck down the undead horde.
Hours passed as the battle raged on. The sky began to lighten, but still, the zombies came. It was only when the sun began to rise that the last of the undead were defeated.
As the final zombie crumpled to the ground, Alek collapsed, his breath ragged and his body covered in blood. The town of Ravenwood was lost, but Alek survived. He would never forget the horror he had witnessed that night, nor the bravery of those who had fought alongside him.
And so he left, sword in hand, determined to uncover the source of this foul magic and put an end to it once and for all.
Buy me a coffee!
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wrongstation · 2 months
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She cannot stop running.
Not even when the cold reaches her bones. Not even to take a breath. Not even to remember who she is.
There is only the road, her feet, and the shadows.
Listen to "SNOWRUNNER" tonight at 9pm EST
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martinedjohn · 1 year
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The Damned Dance at Night (on Wattpad)  The Damned Dance at Night is a new-adult horror novel that amalgamates the power chords of a pop-punk mixtape with the pounding drum machine of a 90's techno CD. TDDAN follows three West-Coast intersectional teenagers: Joseph James searches for a new family, Sam Graves is anxious and suicidal, and Kim Fox is impulsive and a natural leader. After cutting their first day of senior year, they become embroiled in a conflict between a vampire wandering their school's halls and an Immortal bent on revenge. Demons and cultists follow, wanting the blood of the Immortal to help them further their nefarious intentions. Who will make it out alive?
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benlongoria · 1 year
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The big guy himself, the Blind Idiot God, also known as the Ur God and the Creator. From his throne he mindlessly sacrifices his own flesh to give life to all manner of mortals and immortals. • | | | | #myth #mythology #occult #occultart #supernatural #horror #horrorart #horrorfiction #books #bookart #bookillustration #illustration #pendrawing #creature #creatures #creatureconcept #scary #monsters #monsterart #bestiary #lovecraftian #necronomicon #grimoire #fantasy #cosmichorror (at Stone Oak) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoC0XJAO8gw/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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gothicvamperstein · 1 year
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I'm still groggy and worn out after a bout of migraine, but fortunately I've managed to pick up a book and read for the first time in ages, which is a good thing. Yay for horror novels. . . . #currentlyreading #currentread #horrorreaders #horrornovel #horrorjunkie #horrorreads #horrorfan #horrorfiction #bookstagram #bibliophile #bookworm #bookdragon #ilovebooks #ilovereading #booksaremagic #booksareneveroutoffashion #readingiscool #readingissexy https://www.instagram.com/p/CqD18PGIu0C/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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spoldhamauthor · 10 months
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Hag's Breath is now available on Audible and iTunes!
"A collection of short stories featuring witches, 'Hag's Breath' reinvents this entity. If you are looking for the near-comical character that is the stalwart of children's fairy tales then go elsewhere. These witches are the stuff of nightmares. True horror characters with dark souls and sinister intentions. Powerful women, whose presence in the world is sometimes to be feared, sometimes to be sought out - but always to be respected."
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Next Month's Horror Book Club Pick will be Goddess of Filth by V. Castro "
“Five of us sat in a circle doing our best to emulate the girls in The Craft, hoping to unleash some power to take us all away from our home to the place of our dreams. But we weren’t witches. We were five Chicanas living in San Antonio, Texas, one year out of high school.”
One hot summer night, best friends Lourdes, Fernanda, Ana, Perla, and Pauline hold a séance. It’s all fun and games at first, but their tipsy laughter turns to terror when the flames burn straight through their prayer candles and Fernanda starts crawling toward her friends and chanting in Nahuatl, the language of their Aztec ancestors.
Over the next few weeks, shy, modest Fernanda starts acting strangely—smearing herself in black makeup, shredding her hands on rose thorns, sucking sin out of the mouths of the guilty. The local priest is convinced it's a demon, but Lourdes begins to suspect it’s something else—something far more ancient and powerful.
As Father Moreno's obsession with Fernanda grows, Lourdes enlists the help of her “bruja Craft crew” and a professor, Dr. Camacho, to understand what is happening to her friend in this unholy tale of possession-gone-right."
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robkost · 2 years
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mastervoluminous · 4 days
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The first of FOUR long-awaited sequels to Gift C Enyadike Jr's debut novel, Vatour: Feel free... to DIE is set to launch on April 24th, 2024.
Vatour: Law and Order follows Commissioner Mukasa Kintu as he attempts to retake control of both the Scotch City Police Department and the city itself following Vatour's apparent death. Unfortunately, things don't go his way.
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writtenfromadarkness · 11 months
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itusebastian · 1 year
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Night of the Undead Feast
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The night was dark, the moon obscured by ominous clouds that cast shadows over the deserted streets. A chill wind blew, carrying with it the stench of decay and death. It was a perfect night for ghouls to roam.
In the distance, a figure could be seen, stumbling through the deserted streets. It was a young woman, her clothes torn and her hair disheveled. She had clearly been through a traumatic experience, and was now desperately trying to make her way home.
Suddenly, from the darkness, a pack of ghouls appeared. They were ragged and filthy, their eyes glowing with a feral hunger. They circled the woman, their teeth bared and their claws extended.
The woman screamed, but it was too late. The ghouls pounced, tearing into her flesh with savage fury. They devoured her organs and gnawed on her bones, leaving nothing but a bloody mess.
As the ghouls feasted, a lone figure emerged from the shadows. He was a ghast, larger and more powerful than the ghouls. His eyes glowed with a malevolent intelligence, and his voice was deep and commanding.
"Enough," he growled. "Leave some for me."
The ghouls backed away, allowing the ghast to feast on the remains of the young woman. When he was finished, he turned to the ghouls and spoke.
"Tonight, we hunt. There are more like her out there, waiting for us. Let us sate our hunger."
And with that, the pack of ghouls and the ghast disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind only the scent of death and decay.
The scene was eerie and haunting, and the creatures were unlike any that the people of the town had ever seen before. They knew that they were not safe, and that the ghouls and ghasts would continue to roam the night, driven by their insatiable hunger for flesh.
Buy me a coffee!
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wrongstation · 5 months
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//EVERYBODY NEEDS A HOBBY
//EVERYBODY MOVES ON TO SOMETHING NEW
//BUT ALL THOSE THINGS YOU'VE LEFT BEHIND
//AREN'T ALWAYS DONE WITH YOU
“PLANT MOM"
A LESSON IN HORTICULTURE, FROM WRONG STATION
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martinedjohn · 1 year
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The Damned Dance at Night - The Damned Dance at Night - Part 3 (on Wattpad)The Damned Dance at Night is a new-adult horror novel that amalgamates the power chords of a pop-punk mixtape with the pounding drum machine of a 90's techno CD. TDDAN follows three West-Coast intersectional teenagers: Joseph James searches for a new family, Sam Graves is anxious and suicidal, and Kim Fox is impulsive and a natural leader. After cutting their first day of senior year, they become embroiled in a conflict between a vampire wandering their school's halls and an Immortal bent on revenge. Demons and cultists follow, wanting the blood of the Immortal to help them further their nefarious intentions. Who will make it out alive?
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benlongoria · 1 year
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Umibozu • | | | | #myth #mythology #occult #occultart #supernatural #horror #horrorart #horrorfiction #books #bookart #bookillustration #illustration #pendrawing #creature #creatures #creatureconcept #scary #monsters #monsterart #bestiary #lovecraftian #necronomicon #grimoire #fantasy #cosmichorror (at Stone Oak) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClyeWGtOAFI/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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