In a dilapidated house at the edge of a small, quiet town, where the shadows danced and the wind whispered secrets, was what was supposed to be my wife and I’s paradise. Our once-grand home now stood as a decrepit monument to the relentless march...

β€œBreaker one-nine, breaker one-nine.”  BOOLEEP. Nothing. β€œBreaker one-nine.Β  Anyone copy?”  BOOLEEP. Glen took a swipe at my hand as I attempted to key up the base station radio mic once more. β€œGive it up,”  he belched.Β  β€œYou lost another one, man.”  He crumpled his empty can of MGD onto...

The carpet smells of decay and mud as I flatten my face against the floor in an attempt to hide under our queen-sized bed. An incessant banging at the door resonates through my brain, feeling like I’m being impaled with an iron spike. Each knock slams...

An old man lived alone in a house by the ocean. Every morning as the sun rose, he walked down the forest path to the beach and enjoyed the salty air coming off the water. Every evening, he returned to the shore to watch the...

A man awoke to find himself laying on the floor. Β Dazed and confused he was somewhat relieved to see that he was not alone. At least a dozen more people were waking up as well; women, men a few children, including a little girl perhaps...

This story was originally featured on James Colton's official website, and has been reprinted here with his kind permission. You can see the original postΒ here, or visit hisΒ official websiteΒ today for dozens of additional tales of terror. * * * * * * β€œI still don’t think it’s...

From the moment she learned to walk, little Myrtle dreamed of becoming a tap dancer. She would totter through the house, her chubby bare feet slapping arrhythmically on the hardwood, her squeaky voice calling out β€œTa-ta-ta-ta-ta!” like tap shoes on a stage. When her second-grade teacher...

The road is a light brown path of dirt that stretches up and down the shallow hills, running straight from end to end before becoming serpentine at its eastern end where it meets the main highway. Blades of grass struggle to break through but soon...

It’s not on record as the drowning experiment. The official name is AQ521-G4, but I’ve chosen to call it what it truly was. It was marketed as an opportunity for people with previous experience in aquatic settings to earn high positions for coastal work, aquamarine...

I sat down on the padded stool. It was cushioned and made of black leather. As I lifted the sticks, I couldn’t help but shake the feeling like I was being watched. Like there was some sort of audience staring at me just outside of...

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