Notes of DiscordThere is something living in the wind tonight.Notes of Discord23 minutes ago in Short Stories More Like This
Soft, soft, Night’s song. She sways with it, one step at a time. Down the cement steps, towards the sandbox, the rosebush, the gazebo. The tree.
She looks up, and there is light – from the moon, the streetlamps perhaps. The leaves rustle, turn silver then green with each breath. She hears the absence of sound, a terrifying, scorching chill squeezing her chest. Still, she walks.
Everything is in shadow, gone, everything but this – the tree, the rusty green of the gazebo, the cement reflecting crystal light. Something waits for her, there, against the tree’s pale-brown bark.
The barking starts.
Awful. Terror breaks the calm melancholy of the night, tears through her flesh like shards of ice. She trembles, feels herself shake – eyes, eyes and open jaws growl at her from the nothingness beyond the circle of moonlight; the tree, the gazebo, the cement steps. She runs.
Back, back – back into the building, up t
Goodnight.Goodnight.Goodnight.1 hour ago in Short Stories More Like This
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He woke up. It was half past midnight and it has been less than half an hour since he went to bed. This has been the case for him for the past few weeks or so. He was suffering from a severe insomnia as he woke up at least ten times every night. He woke up and just stood there. He knew he couldn't return to sleep & that he would need to tire himself and his eyes before he managed to go back to sleep yet again. He opened his laptop and plugged in the power cord. He was going to try and watch something. A movie, an episode of a serial, anything that could potentially tire him and make him want to sleep.
Half an hour later, he found out that nothing could amuse him enough nor to bore him enough for him to want to sleep. He sighed and he closed his laptop. He tried to close his eyes, spun in his bed, flipped the pillow from the warm to the cold side and vise versa but he just couldn't sl
Moonlight Sonata [3rd Edition]Moonlight SonataMoonlight Sonata [3rd Edition]2 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
On the night of October 30, in the city of Budapest, Hungary, about 11 pm, a group of shadowy forms like men gathered below the balcony of the house of Ramon Tesla, a former citizen. It was known throughout the Capitol that Tesla had died one year prior on the same night.
Tesla had previously traveled through both Hungary and Romania and had ventured through the forest into Transylvania. Then he was suddenly and mysteriously delayed in returning to Budapest. When he could travel homewards, he needed to travel at night. He arrived at his house in the eastern side at the same hour, 11 pm. Then he unpacked his bag and collected his clothes in the cabinet. He went to his piano and began to play Ludvig Van Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Suddenly he was aware that the moon had appeared and seemed full. He continued to play.
A moment later, a tall figure stood before him and gazed at him silently. Then the figure walked over to him calmly. Tesla saw tha
A Single NightA Single NightA Single Night5 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
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Have you ever been outside while it was dark? Of course you all have - you have social lives, go to clubs and all. For you, the night is the beginning of the day, but for me, that's not the case. As far as I am concerned, I must be in bed at 22:30 so I can wake up early in the morning, so, every time I am outside past 21:00 during the cold seasons, it feels, somewhat odd to me. Especially considering that before that, I was at a friend's place and we watched a plethora of horror-based materials and videos, some of which were obviously fake, others, somewhat realistic. It's somewhat magical how the human mind works, especially the artistic mind. Having my mind set on horror and what people consider paranormal, my mind instantly began working that way, seeing every single figure in the dark as a potential maniac, murderer, threat, which was undoubtedly a good thing, consideri
MISTMIST8 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
La lunga sciabola ricurva volteggia frenetica, fendendo a destra e a manca, provocando dolore e disperazione, ferite profonde, lacerazioni letali. Le macchie di sangue imbrattano il bel volto, i lunghi capelli dorati, le mani ossute e decise. Il fragore delle armi e della lotta risuonano nelle sue orecchie, una musica ritmata, che lei danza con innata abilità. Lei è Mist, la guerriera dai capelli d’oro, coraggiosa e letale, principessa delle remote terre iperboree. Si volta di scatto verso il sole al tramonto, nessuno le sta più attorno, un silenzio improvviso cala sulla pianura. La battaglia è terminata, le schiere nemiche si ritirano. Mist si siede su una roccia, dopo aver spostato un corpo trafitto. Comincia a ripulire lentamente la sua lama affilata, fingendo di non accorgersi della presenza di un guerriero alle sue spalle. Egli la guarda ansimante, attendendo una sua mossa. Poi, desolato, si siede al suo fianco, dopo qualche esitazione.
Eldritch Abominations: AmorphousType: AmorphousEldritch Abominations: Amorphous9 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Description: Slime; a puddle, lake, moving blob, shape shifting, hive mind, or a singular minded giant amoebic entity. Even if parts of it can change into humanoid or other forms retains a slime quality. Often mistaken for the Living Mass type as these will often have pseudopods similar to tentacles and change shape, however they are much more difficult for centrally minded beings to understand as they have no set core (an often easy way to tell them apart from many slime monsters; but that isn’t universal). Some have even been known to inhabit an entire building or ruins and send out parts of themselves that the adventurers mistake for individual monsters or beings; one even imitating an entire town complete with shops and an inn. Usually however they are a hideous mass in a cavern.
Oddly enough these can reproduce at will and even produce other Eldritch types as offspring (usually animalistic, living mass, or defiled flesh; with the occasional water eleme
Michael's RageThe rage. The rage is thrilling through my body like a hot fire. I can’t control it. I cannot quell it. But it is always driving me. Making me do things I don’t want to do. It tells me, over and over. You must kill them. You must kill them all. This relentless voice, in my mind. It will not quit. It does not stop. It cannot be silenced. I must do its bidding.Michael's Rage13 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
She is screaming. She is screaming and it feeds my rage. The rage says she must die. She must be killed. And anyone who stands in my way, must die. I watch myself, day after day, doing these things. Repeating these same actions. Watching my knife rip through the heart of another unsuspecting teenager. Another soul who got in the way of the Rage. The Rage that will not go out. I watch, and I can do nothing. It has complete control of me.
She is my niece. She is my flesh and blood. This is why the Rage inside me wants her dead. I do not want her dead. I do not wish to kill her. But the Rage says I must. The Rage says I m
Moi ou elleRien de plus simple. Soit elle disparaît, soit je deviens fou et on m'enferme dans une asile. La simplicité même.Moi ou elle14 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Je devrais commencer par le commencement, non?
Comme toute histoire, le trouble commença quand je tomba amoureux (criss, j'hais cette expression) d'une fille dans ma classe.
Quand je lui ai demandé de sortir avec (ok, c'était peut-être avec quelque bafouillement ici et là, mais vous l'avez pas vu!), elle m'a répondu avec un non. Parfait. Ma vie ne semblait pas aller pire ou mieux. Tout allait bien.
Ouais, je me sentais bien.
Je lui parlais, pour ainsi dire, jamais. Ce qui est quand même pas si loin de ce que je lui disait avant, mais c'est pas ça l'affaire!
Bon, faque une semaine est passé, puis deux… à la troisième, je me sentais weird, je ne savais pas trop pourquoi. À la quatrième, j'ai compris. Criss, mon cœur ne veut pas la laisser partir. La partie logique de mon cerveau me dit
Voices Of Insanity CreepypastaPart OneVoices Of Insanity Creepypasta18 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
It’s a late stormy night in October, nothing unusual going on. I’m in my room, my parents in theirs. I’m just surfing the web, watching videos and being bored, casually munching on some chips. Like I said, nothing unusual.
(What are you doing?)
There it is again! I can swear that’s someones voice. I move to the window, relieved to see that a tree branch was scraping against the side of the house. Stupid storm. It’s making me paranoid.
*knock knock knock* Good god did I just jump because of a knock on my door? Man am I pathetic sometimes. “Yeah?”
“We’re going to bed now. Don’t stay up too late.”
“Uh ok. Sleep well.”
(Heh heh heh…)
I swear I can hear someone whispering. Our house isn’t haunted or anything, and even if it was, I don’t believe in ghosts. It was getting annoying. What time is it anyway? Shit, where did I move my clock too again? Oh yea
Creepypasta - Rat Aleister's PenEveryone knows Chuck E. Cheese, but have you heard of Rat Aleister's? Not many people have, and for good reason. It gained a bit of a cult following online a couple months ago, where people had more fun speculating and sharing rumors than actually taking any sort of action against it.Creepypasta - Rat Aleister's Pen18 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Located at the corner of some lonely street in Virginia City, Nevada, you would find a billboard with the name of the fabled location. It looked about as run down on the outside as everything else around it, so you wouldn't immediately pin it as a children's place. The windows were made so that you could hardly see anything inside apart from a bunch of blurred colors moving about.
Once you pull into the small parking space made for one, you'll enter the dimly lit canopy and be greeted by the employees in blue, followed by Rat Aleister himself... They occasionally referred to him as Ally, but the internet community liked to call him Ratty since it seemed a better fit. Ratty was a bit unnerving to be around
Weathering WoodsBIG MYSTERY IN SMALL TOWNWeathering Woods22 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
The town of Weathering has recently witnessed some strange events, beginning with the death of Melissa Carter, a local student of Big Bridge High School, that devastated students and teachers alike. Her body was found in the woods east of town, with multiple bruises and cuts on her arms and legs. Her throat had been slashed and her blood drained, making concerned parents wonder, is Weathering still a safe place to call home?
Not only that, but cats and dogs seem to be disappearing from households across town. Their corpses all been found around a week after their disappearance in the same woods in which the police discovered Miss Caster’s body.
“We are still looking into this,” says police chief Allan Sanders. “Our top priority is the safety of our citizens and their children, and we will not stop until the perpetrators—
A hand slashes across the newspaper, crumpling it onto the table. The grease from my pizza seeps into the fine
Zombie infection cover-upthe Zombie infection the governments would cover-upZombie infection cover-up1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Zombie infective agent is real; and a lot more people are infected by it than the public would ever be comfortable with. When the infection "manifests" the victim loses all sense of self, loss of conscious thought or rational behavior, usually becoming very violent and territorial. They also become incredibly hungry, mainly for meat, and will go after anything that is meat; especially the face. They also lose the sensation of pain; however just because they lack that doesn't mean they can't be harmed and killed. Although "killing" may be a bit difficult for the "type 3" Zombie.
Which brings us to the good news: Although MANY people have this fluids passed highly infectious "agent" it doesn't manifest/cause "movie zombie like behavior" except for three triggers; hence the three types. The first would be the one that hit the news (and most subsequent outbreaks have been silenced from appearing in the news as the public
HandsHandsHands1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Phillip Cavenaugh was a smith for more than 10 years of his life. But since he was a boy he had learned to use his hands. He studied handicrafts in both secondary school and college and learned about smithy from his father abd uncle. At the age of 25,Phillip started his own shop in the town.
He was a lock smith. Phillip had many clients and everyone liked and appreciated him. Then, in his eighth year as a smith, he learned about Salem, Massachusetts. The town needed his skill desperately.
Phillip explained to his father and uncle, and prepared to move. His uncle was a little uneasy. However, his father approved and chided his uncle for being superstitious.
"See here, Lucas, aren't you a bit anxious about witchcraft now?"
"I should be, Wilbur. But Phillip is a strong-minded boy, and he'll be okay."
"Of course I will, father."
The next morning Phillip set off for Salem, Massachusetts. He arrived within 19 days time and searched for a good location. He found one within 48 hours afte