Most read stories

I watched as my father coughed and wheezed himself into an early grave. Every breath sounded as though his lungs were densely packed with small stones. He lay on the floor, naked aside from a thin blanket, and did only two things: cough and sleep. By spring, he had found his way deep within the West Virginia earth. My daddy was a coal miner, like his daddy, and his daddy before him.

I live in a small village and nothing rarely exciting ever happens, and its one of those villages where generations pass on traditions to the next generation. I like the area but most of my friends have decided to move towards the big bustling cities where there is noise and excitement. I was just going for a walk on a Sunday morning when I saw a gathering around the park and I knew straight away something had happened. We don’t get much trouble around here and when something does go off it…

Have you ever seen the flesh of a dead man so perfectly loose with decay that it may come off of his brittle old bones as easily as cutting soft cheese with a well honed knife? let me tell you son... it is a satisfying feeling that none have been able to replicate (at least from what I've seen in my years wandering this miserable rock we call home). now I know you will yelp on about some "oh but that's so horrible!" or maybe you will demand to know "what kind of fucked up mind thinks of such…

You will dream of me. You will dream of me. You will dream of me. I will appear to you every night. And frighten you, and you will think I am just a ghost. I will appear in your worst nightmares. I will be your worst fear. I will be your fear. You will dream of me. You will dream of me. I am not just a ghost. I am not just a ghost. You will find me watching you every night.

The wind howled outside the old farmhouse windows, but the silence inside was far more deafening. Sixteen-year-old Mariah sat frozen on the edge of her bed, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

Autumn was just beginning in the city of Hynensborg, one of the darkest and rainiest periods of the year. It is also a time when young people look for ways to kill the boredom, often gathering together around a campfire to tell each other dark stories. A group of chemistry students and friends—Noah, Freyr, and Vidar—decided to spend one of the September evenings of the newly begun weekend in precisely this way... Free from the worries and cares of daily life, they decided to head to a nearby…

This is a story about the brave little tractor. Let's call him John. John is a small tractor, but he loves helping out on the farm! John plows across the field with his little plow. It takes a very long time, and afterward, John is very thirsty and hungry. His metal begs for oil, but John loves serving and helping others!

"Breaking news tonight. Authorities have discovered the remains of four local Yakuza members in the Port District." The news anchor’s voice crackled from the TV. Her face flickered ghostly blue against yellowed, peeling wallpaper. Bad reception. Static danced across her eyes like digital maggots.

For three days after I found the rabbit, nothing else had happened. That frightened me more than the noises had. The woods had gone quiet. Not truly quiet. The birds still called in the mornings. Cicadas screamed from the trees in the afternoon. At night, the frogs took over the creek. But the other sounds stopped. No howls. Not footsteps beneath my window. No knocking against the walls. Nothing watched from the pasture either. Nothing moved in the tree line.

I am a cover guard which basically means I only get called to guard places when someone has fallen sick or a last minute emergency has risen. I am put down as self employed by my manager which means I have to deal with my own taxes, and being self employed does give you a lot more freedom than being employed. Like for example I can quit whenever I want and I can decide which shifts I want to work, but I have to work most days because days off are costly. I have been a cover guard for various…

Are you unsatisfied with your life? Are you unhappy with all the little things you own? Then come visit the underground store once. Here you can find a solution to every problem. We are eagerly awaiting your visit. A new store has opened in the shopping center near my house and I, having nothing better to do, decide to go check it out. In all honesty the recent ads have been freaking me out a bit, the shop's mascot just looks wrong.

My brother has always been very kind. Not just to me, but also everyone and everything around us. We live together with our uncle in a nice house with a big garden. Honestly, the house might be a bit to the bigger side. I'm pretty sure we could fit another small family here, but I'm happy with just the three of us. My uncle is a pretty good cook too! And my brother and I do quite good at school and both have some friends. Even so, something is wrong. It has to do with my brother.

Perhaps it's just my world, but it might also be yours. Everyone here wears a mask. A real mask, maybe the one given from the beginning or one changed or even stolen. Our masks decide everything for us: our emotions, jobs, school, friends, relationships, chances in life and even crimes. Our whole identity really. Without our masks, we can't live since there isn't really anything underneath it. We all get our first mask just after birth after all.

They all think it is wrong to be greedy but in my eyes it is not. So what if someone else goes without just for me to gain? THEY SHOULD HAVE WORKED HARDER DAMNIT! Everyone knows those who don't work end up poor and why should I care if someone was too lazy to work for what they wanted? But you can see it my way too cant you? the glorious gleam of coins jingling in your pocket? the crisp snap of a dollar wasted to satisfy your ever growing needs? the lavish means of living and the…

Part I

Takunda was just issuing out of the lavatory when he sensed that all was not right on the school premises. The siren had just wailed moments ago, signalling the end of lunch time. He didn't expect to find the hallway so cleaned out. Usually at this hour, he would've expected to find a few delinquent pupils lazing about the lockers and probably busying themselves with the latest school gossip.

In 1996, a boutique robotics company quietly manufactured a line of luxury, life-sized animatronics. They were marketed exclusively to wealthy families as elite, high-tech playmates for children. But the line was canceled almost immediately. Rumors spread about a prototype that came off the assembly line completely wrong—warped, oversized, and deeply unsettling. My little sister, Rose, found her in a salvage yard behind one of the abandoned corporate warehouses.

She opened her eyes when the car finally stopped. Ana had gone to bed late the night before, talking on the phone with Marina about nonsense, not remembering she had to wake up early for this…ritual as she liked to call it.

In a mysterious forest, among ancient trees and a clearing long forgotten by man, stood an abandoned shack surrounded by old, neglected graves. The place was shrouded in infamy; disturbing things happened there. Witnesses claimed that something sinister lurked in the darkness. Local residents spoke of terrifying screams echoing from the shack—cries that resembled a chimera or some other horrific beast.

Jason pulled out of the parking lot next to the "Dark Valley" roadside diner. Sitting beside him in the navy-blue Jeep was his friend, Caroline. They had just stopped there to grab their favorite beef steaks—it was pretty much their weekend ritual. Both were in excellent spirits as Jason slipped the key into the ignition and tried to start the car.