supernatural
The hidden world of all things supernatural; a look inside witchcraft, spells, vexes, black magic and other spine-tingling supernatural phenomena.
THE TWILIGHT
The Twilight By EJ Fordham I suppose the owners of the riverboat Twilight had a reason for naming it that. Maybe they liked the sound of the name. For me, though, twilight has always been the time of mysteries. It is an in-between state. A limbo between light and dark.
By EJ Fordham4 years ago in Horror
The Crypt
In the deep lands, beyond waters, even beyond hell, were no one is allowed to come back and your soul have no peace, no serenity, no joy, and no happiness is known. Where only death exist and punishments ruled, in the kingdom of Kriptys and Kriptycus, owners of the afterlife graves and rulers of the Crypt's lands. In the Crypt's lands everything is was a nightmare, the smell of death, and black and white colors unless was blood, red blood. No one was free and nothing was your own. The only emotion you were allow to feel was pain. The only art that existed was the art of mistreatment and suffering, the only award you can received is humiliation. The favorite hobby from the rulers it was punishing as well there job, hunting you eternally. They will forever and ever make you remember you had nothing, you were nothing and there were no escape from the Crypt because nothing you will remain. Of course memories existed but after a while you couldn't ever understand them at all, unless was about sin, evil or death. The amount of punishing everyone received at the Crypts made the life on earth a long distance blurred, as if that never even happened.
By Kristel Miranda Colon4 years ago in Horror
To the Depths, We Sink
Summer. The novelty of it has rapidly diminished for me over the course of thirty-two years. Another spin around an ol’ dying star. A star destined to die. The experts all concur. That day is far, far off. It’s a day all of us currently shuttling through space will never bear witness to. Still, I can’t help but picture the sun's final moment. A vast, gargantuan blinding light, then a forever blackness. Nothingness. A whimper slips out from my lips.
By Hautus Rhinestone4 years ago in Horror
Despair
I can see the rocks at the bottom, the water’s so clear. I wish it was murky. That there was mystery. “A little girl died here last year. Round this time. Sad story. ‘Bout five, six years old.” The woman beside me drags from an e-cigarette. “It just, whoosh”—her hand dipped below her waist— “took her under. Smashed her little skull into the bedrock. I wasn’t here, but they told me it was really gruesome. Sorry. You not from here?” Her smoke clouds my view of the river.
By Bryanna Payne4 years ago in Horror
Foggy Judgement
I took a deep breath. The air was foggy from the late afternoon at the lake. The sun was hiding behind the clouds and the air felt heavy. There were about three to four families at the lake but it was hard to make them out. My hands were trembling as I clutched the note in my palms, knowing that my sweat had surely smudged the ink. It was cold out but the mist felt almost refreshing on my hot face.
By Rachael Green4 years ago in Horror
The Monster of Arkcroft Manor
"Come, Brother!" Joseph's familiar voice called out yet again, ringing with almost childlike exuberance. "Come and see!" To any rational observer, this alone would seem an innocuous request, harmlessly echoing down the well-polished halls of Arkcroft Manor. Even when considering the absurdly early hour of the day, the words themselves proved harmless, and yet, warded off in the upstairs master bedroom, a pool of cold sweat accumulated beneath Niklaus' sleep-deprived body all the same. Despite being draped in all manner of finery, beneath his canopy of mahogany and silks, the lord of Arkcroft, Niklaus Croft, appeared as death itself, with protruding ribs, hollowed cheeks, and sunken eyes.
By Ethan Fernau4 years ago in Horror
Moon Upon the Lake
Emma stood at the end of the short dock staring at the silver moon above her. It hung bright and wide in the sky, beckoning her like a pale goddess of dreams. The sound of toads singing scratchy güiro notes echo off of the thick wall of cedars and pines that surround the motionless lake before her. Behind her, an old plank house, hidden from view by the forest that surrounded it, squats stubbornly in a clearing. The house was old enough to have seen centuries pass and generations born within its walls. Emma’s direct ancestor had built it and her grandmother was the last of them born in the home rather than a hospital. It had changed over the years, a new log roof, two small bedrooms, and even a window. There was a bathroom with plumbing and a kitchen/living room combination. It was sacred to Emma and her family because it was one of the few things that had remained untouched by the hands of white men. It was their ancestral home. Listening to the chorus of creatures from the end of the dock had become a nightly ritual for her. It brought her peace of mind so that when she slid into the cold pocket of her bed later, she could manage to sleep.
By Rachael Writes 4 years ago in Horror
Ghost Island
Jonah found himself at the Branford Library on yet another Friday night. Two months ago, his mom moved him to Connecticut for a “fresh start” after the death of his dad. Jonah’s mom grew up in Branford. His grandparents still live here which Jonah’s mom thought would help with his transition to a new town. Tall and lanky with brown hair and mud green eyes obscured by thick, black-framed glasses, Jonah wasn’t exactly a ladies’ man. In fact, he had not made any friends in the whole two months he had been here. Jonah always struggled with not feeling seen by others but being in a new town he felt downright invisible and the only other one that might understand how he felt died 6 months ago. Jonah tried to push thoughts of his dad out of his head as he turned his attention back to the library shelves that held all the books on the history of Branford.
By Kristin Young4 years ago in Horror
