Meet The Horrors
Find out a little more of the horrors awaiting you in this collection of short stories.
The Sundown Clown
An evil clown who uses a meat cleaver to slaughter his victims.
Excerpt From The Sundown Clown
Creepy Curt stepped into striking range. His lips parted, and a toothy grin possessed his face. Under the mask, his eyes widened and gleamed with eagerness. The clown raised the butcher knife above his head and brought it down onto the man’s wrist, severing his hand.
The dismembered limb rolled off the top of the couch and onto the floor. The jester wallowed in the aesthetic vision before him. Thick, red blood had splattered the backside of the beige sofa. It was a perfect canvas—artwork for a wall in his dining room.
Blood-curdling screams broke his reverie. The male stood, waving his bloody stump into the air, emitting guttural sounds. A forceful stream of red spurted from the opened flesh—the location of where a hand existed a few seconds ago. What a glorious vision. The clown shifted his gaze to the female. In her panic-induced attempt to flee, she had fallen onto the coffee table. The glass broke, leaving her sprawled on the floor among scattered shards.
Creepy Curt wanted to listen to the cacophony of piercing screams of terror as long as possible. He opted to allow the man to live a few moments beyond his speechless wife. She bored him with her meek whimpers. Perhaps she’d given herself a concussion when she landed on the table. The clown tilted his head sideways and moved toward her.
Her eyes were wild with terror, but her voice failed her. A few incoherent mumbles spewed from her lips as she shook her head back and forth. The female inched her body backward as if the corner of the room offered protection. Her back hit the wall, stopping further movement. She cowered and held her hands up, then turned away when the clown raised the thick blade.
The jester huffed and snorted with excitement. “You are a Chosen One,” he announced.
He plunged the meat cleaver deep inside her skull, chopping off two of her fingers during his horrendous act.
A black-haired floating female demon who wears a black, lacey gown and veil. She blows a thick, black, foggy substance from her throat to paralyze her victims.
Excerpt From The Sleep-Paralysis Demon
A baleful smirk spread across Morrigan’s face. She eased her way inside the window and glided toward the bed. The demon positioned herself over the girl’s body with her lifeless black eyes inches above the teenager’s face. Anticipation of her victim’s eyes springing open—and the fear they’d spew—caused her body to vibrate.
Morrigan pointed a bony finger at the girl. She waved it back and forth to inflict her victim with paralysis.
Startled, the teen’s eyes flew open. Floating inches above her was a gaunt-faced apparition. Paralysis stifled her movements, including the ability to call out. Unable to escape or turn away from the levitating fiend, terror washed over her.
The demon tilted her head and opened her sinister mouth. A thick, black, foggy substance oozed from her throat. Copious amounts spewed into the air. The toxic fog swirled, then came together, and formed a hand with elongated fingers.
The girl’s breaths quickened as the hand-shaped black matter moved toward her face. All attempts at escaping failed, causing her heart rate to surge.
The hovering demon glared into her victim’s eyes as she sent the mysterious haze into the teenager’s throat. Delight filled her when she spotted tears rolling down the young girl’s cheeks. The gagging sounds erupting from her victim, gratified Morrigan.
The girl’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her body convulsed. A black substance continued to flow into her throat and filled her insides. Her skin tone faded to a milky white, matching the evil demon’s pasty-colored skin.
Several minutes passed before the young girl awoke. She sat up and stared with a blank expression at the wall. The room temperature plummeted, causing white clouds upon every exhale. Her body shivered in the inky darkness. The teenager remained in a trance, unaware of the demon—unaware of everything. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
The demon pulled the black veil over her face and hovered near the ceiling in the far corner. Watching the afflicted girl brought her joy. An evil grin possessed her face.
With a honeyed voice, the demon whispered, “Go—be free.”
With robotic movements, the teenager climbed out of bed. She headed toward the window and peered outside. With force, she pounded her face against the glass until it shattered.
The girl’s parents heard the commotion and stormed into her bedroom. Confused by their daughter’s state of calmness, they halted in the doorway. Their daughter turned toward them and gazed through glossy, unaware eyes. Her bloodied face horrified them.
“Kiera?” her father gasped. He slapped a hand over his mouth.
The mother stepped toward the injured teen. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”
Kiera turned away from her parents and jumped through the shattered window. A sickened thud filled the air. The violent landing snapped her neck and forced her head into a grotesque position.
Satisfied, Morrigan slipped through a wall and headed back to the dilapidated shed.
Haunting at 238
Dark-haired, floating female apparition who cradles an infant apparition within her skeletal arms.
Excerpt From Haunting at 238
Nightfall arrived, and Seth headed to bed with Ellie. Another day full of unpacking had exhausted the young couple. Ellie fell into a much needed deep sleep. Her hand remained fixed on Seth’s arm as he slept beside her.
A few hours into a peaceful slumber, his loud, raspy breathing awoke her. She opened her eyes and looked at the clock: 2:38. Of course, she mumbled.
Ellie turned toward Seth and realized his breaths were shallow and quiet. She lifted her head and looked toward the foot of her bed. Her stomach sank.
Floating above the wooden chest at the foot of their bed was the menacing black-haired woman. Her raspy breaths filled the room, sending Ellie’s heart racing. The apparition fidgeted with the pink blanket in her arms. Her bony fingers peeled the fabric open, revealing a newborn baby. And the umbilical cord remained attached to its apparition mother.
Murderous, cannibalistic humans (changed after mysterious sky-flashes). Their pupils and colored irises vanished, leaving wide-opened, opaque eyeballs. Reddish-black blood oozes from their tear ducts.
A growl and rush of footfalls tore through the store. Doug spotted movement behind Lexi. A deranged. An eye-bleeding male charged at her with his mouth opened—ready to sink his teeth into flesh.
Lexi jumped backward and stumbled over a detergent bottle. Her feet slipped out from under her. The small-framed girl whacked her head on the nearby metal shelf as she fell. Dazed and confused, her skin went pale. She laid on the floor, incognizant of the threat sprinting toward her.
“Lexi!” Doug shouted as he raced toward her.
The filthy, deranged male’s ravenous appetite caused him to speed up. He pounced on the petite girl but overshot her body, and his head ended up several inches above hers. The animalistic male scooted downward and spilled blood from his oozing eyes onto Lexi’s hair and face.
Murphy’s blood ran cold. He froze and cringed at the scene before him.
The violent cannibal snarled and opened his jaw. With teeth exposed, he dove toward Lexi’s flesh. But Doug stopped his forward movement. He grabbed a handful of the deranged cannibal’s shirt and yanked him backward—off from Lexi.
Doug stepped in a pool of spilled detergent and slipped. He refused to release the mad man’s shirt and found himself flat on his back with the eye-bleeder on top of his chest.
Two scrawny, deranged females approached Lexi from behind as she struggled to sit up. Murphy sprang into action and dashed toward them. He forced the cannibals backward, using his chickpea-weighted backpack. The taller of the two eye-bleeders convulsed on the floor. She had taken the initial blow from the canned goods. The other one snarled and growled, then made a move toward him. Murphy kicked the opaque-eyed female in the face and sent her backward. Adrenaline surged through him. He inhaled a deep breath and stomped on her skull until all movements ceased.
Lexi cried out in horror, pulling Murphy’s attention from the two dead bodies sprawled upon the floor. He turned and saw the deranged man thrust his head downward, toward his buddy. The violent cannibal sank his teeth deep inside the flesh of Doug’s neck. And blood gushed from open wounds on both hands; chunks of flesh removed.
“M–Murphy,” Doug struggled to speak. “G–get Lexi out of here—now.”
Murphy placed a hand over Lexi’s mouth to stifle her scream. “Ssshhh,” he whispered. “We need to be quiet, so we don’t alert more deranged.”
Murphy turned Lexi’s face away from the gruesome scene of the cannibal eating Doug alive. She buried her face in his chest and burst into tears.
A cannibalistic Chef that loathes people. He adds human flesh and body parts to his special recipe, cranberry chicken waffles.
Excerpt From Peculiar Pete
While humming, Pete used the keys to unlock a large chest freezer. Inside laid the body of his latest victim—Sandra, the waitress. He stared at her frozen figure and contemplated which part to cut. Hmm… let’s hack off a piece of your thigh, Sandra. He slid a knife out from his pocket and reached down to slice into the frozen flesh.
With a sizable chunk removed, Pete held up the flesh to inspect. Perfect. How kind of you to continue serving your customers, Sandra. He tossed the wedge of skin into a bag and headed back to the kitchen.
Eva greeted him through the serving window as he neared the grill. “Morning, Pete.”
Pete nodded but refused further pleasantries. He tossed the chunk of Sandra’s thigh onto the grill and sprinkled cinnamon, allspice, and sugar on top. After giving both sides thorough cooking, he removed the meat from the heated surface. When it cooled to an ideal temperature, he dropped the flesh into the blender along with whole cranberries. Pete secured the lid and pressed the pulse button to shred the meat. A few good whirls created the consistency he wanted, so he dumped the skin into the waffle batter and gave it a stir.
An immensely dense foggy portion of a forest. All trees are leafless and dead. Their branches look like ominous fingers.
Excerpt From Fatal Forest
Footsteps echoed nearby, then a low growl rumbled from within the damp air. The smile faded from Finn’s face, and he pivoted around, searching for the source of the noise.
Lacey gasped and drew her arms into her body. She trembled and moved closer to Finn. Hand in hand, the two circled in place to survey their surroundings. But the fog’s density swelled, reducing their visibility to inches.
“Wh–what was that?” Lacey whispered.
“It’s only a raccoon or rabbit,” Finn rationalized, but his body language spoke otherwise.
Crunching pebbles underfoot sounded toward their left, then their right.
“Shit! There’s more than one,” Finn uttered.
His heart raced, and his skin crawled with goosebumps. He recalled tales of a ‘grabbing ghost’ running amok in one of the haunted forests. But he had read nothing about that in Fatal Forest. Instead, a beast rumored to exist. Though he didn’t believe it. He remained silent and swayed from one foot to the other, unsure of what to do.
“I wanna leave,” Lacey’s voice cracked as she spoke through tears.
“Come on,” he grabbed Lacey’s hand. “Let’s go.”
The two strode forward and headed away from the indiscernible noises. They moved with caution through the thick haze. Areas of diminished fog eluded them, and they bumped into a few unseen trees. The heavy mist invaded their lungs, provoking a few coughing fits.
“Is this the way out?” Lacey asked.
“I think we circled around,” Finn answered. “Watch your footing. An enormous tree is up ahead—don’t trip on the roots.”
They moved toward a massive but long-dead tree. A twig snapped behind them, causing Finn and Lacey to reel around for a look. The haze obscured a moving silhouette as it scooted behind lifeless foliage. The young couple stepped backward, toward the sizable tree, or what they thought was a tree. The thing growled and swiped sharp claws at Finn’s backside, gouging out a generous chunk of skin and muscle. Blood gushed from his wound, and he dropped to the blackened forest floor.
The Basement Dweller
An arrogant man (a killer) with salt and pepper colored hair. The sinister creature in his basement resembles a massive (larger than human) Madagascar cockroach. The long tunnel is ill-lit and a reddish light pulses like a heartbeat.
Excerpt From The Basement Dweller
Dugald refocused on the tunnel ahead and inched his way down the long, ill-lit space. The reddish light pulsed like a heartbeat, and warmth accompanied the throbs of illumination. His stomach knotted up, and his mouth formed a rigid grimace. A slight tingling sensation tickled him. The vibrations grew intense and flowed throughout his entire body. He itched his arms to rid the sensation but failed to relieve the prickling.
Dugald scratched his skin as he walked, and another challenge presented itself. Gravity had changed. He felt lighter, and his feet barely contacted the ground. With outstretched arms, he used the tunnel walls to steady himself. A shadow moved to the right of the fork. He paused, drew in a deep inhale, then continued along in the mysterious place.
“Hello,” he called out. “Is somebody there?”
An eerie silence greeted him. Something moved but refused to respond. The farther into the tunnel he got, the lighter his body became. His feet no longer touched the ground. He floated along, pushing off from the walls, then realized the strength of the force swelled. At the fork, it sucked him down the tunnel on the right. Even if he had wanted to go left, there was no stopping the invisible pull.
Dugald glided along, itching and struggling to see as the light dimmed, and the warmth cooled. The hairs on his body stood erect. His breaths quickened, and he clenched his teeth with force, causing a painful throb in his jaw. Pure blackness replaced the dim lighting, and sounds of TV static filled the air. He drew his arms toward his body to protect himself from the unknown.
A levitating Dugald came to an abrupt halt within the darkness. Something tugged him backward, and thick straps secured his arms and legs to a wall. A presence loomed close to his face. It smelled of burnt flesh and hair. Dugald trembled and struggled to control his breathing.
“H–hello? I–is someone there?” he stuttered.
A raspy inhale ensued. “Hello, Mr. Rudenko,” growled a harsh voice. “I am going to turn on the lighting. Do not let my appearance alarm you.”
Dugald gulped and darted his eyes back and forth in the darkness, unsure of what to expect. A faint red light appeared, as did a hint of warmth. Standing inches before him was a silhouette of something massive. Whatever stood before him was not human. He blinked to clear his vision, but failed to gain clarity of the giant, oval-shaped figure.
The enormous entity dons a black hooded robe and glides above the ground. It has the ability to drop its cloak and camouflage into its surroundings, becoming invisible to the human eye.
The entity spews a toxic vomit-like substance into his female victim’s throats, then blows a curse and determines a horrific destiny of the soon-to-be infant.
Excerpt From Roger Lake
The creature glided to the cabin’s doorway and slid inside. The bedroom door sat wide open. While on the porch, the beast enlisted the camouflaging ability and became invisible. It dropped the black cloak to the floor, like a discarded towel. The entity glided through the living room and entered the bedroom.
Bear sensed the heinous creature’s presence and growled. Easton mistook his dog’s anger for a dislike of their foreplay. He got up and sent the agitated canine into the living room, then jumped back in bed. The young couple engaged in lovemaking.
Unbeknown to them, the concealed beast hovered above. Their physical act continued, but the powerful entity disengaged their awareness. It waited for Easton to finish, then it lowered the hideous mouth toward Roxie’s face. It forced Easton’s head to the side and cupped a pair of lumpy lips over Roxie’s mouth. The creature spewed a toxic vomit-like substance into her throat. The thick fluid moved down her body and made its way to her fallopian tubes. It sat, awaiting the occurrence of fertilization. With success guaranteed, the evil creature blew a curse into Roxie’s face. It determined the destiny of the soon-to-be infant—it gave the child a purpose. The boy would grow up to become a serial killer.
Protagonist is trapped in a pitch-black, damp, cold tunnel, and realizes she’s not alone. There are critters to contend with (rats, snakes, bats), and something unknown approaches. It whispers, “I’m… coming… for… you!” It also warns her that “Things… happen… in… the… dark!”
Excerpt From Claustrophobia
Revealed was an opened cavernous space instead of another narrow tunnel. And the ceiling offered a single dim amber-colored light, dangling in the center. A terrified Jianna rushed through the opening, away from the critter. Once her body squeezed through, the height of the room allowed her to stand.
She stood and circled in place, gazing around the small cavity. The stone-covered walls were man-made, and water trickled down one side. Her eyes lit up, and she hurried over to rinse her filthy face and gulp mouthfuls of the untainted flow. After quenching her thirst, she rinsed off a bit of the excrement from her hair and body. The chilly water made her shiver, but ridding even a small amount of the smelly sludge was worthwhile.
She made her way toward a sizable, flat stone in the center of the small room and sat. Jianna surveyed the cave for an exit and noticed a strange rock midway up the wall across from her. It was darker than the others and had a gap on the left side. She surmised it might be a way to access another tunnel. But she wasn’t yet ready to move away from the refreshing and opened space. Resting her worn-out body, she pondered her predicament.
Advanced stages of the virus include purplish, distended heads and leaking blood from eyes, nose, and ears. Foam oozes from their mouths, and layers of skin peel away from their bodies.
Excerpt From The Virus
Trista focused her binoculars on the camp. Her jaw dropped, and a gasp escaped from her throat. The vision before her was grotesque—revolting. Some campers depicted early signs of the infection. Areas of skin on their arms and faces had turned bright red and splotchy. And they scratched at their feverish bodies obsessively. Others showed advanced symptoms. Their reddened faces swelled, and many had nosebleeds. The red, splotchy patches grew a thicker layer of skin, and lethargy had set in. Their profuse vomiting was unbearable to watch.
Trista shifted her binoculars to gaze elsewhere. What she found was far worse. A few campers were in the final stages of the deadly illness. Their purplish, distended heads leaked blood from their eyes, nose, and ears. Copious amounts of foam trickled from their mouths. And the thickened layers of skin had become slimy and peeled away from their bodies. They’ll be dead within a day—What an awful way to go.