When the sun sets and silence creeps through the cracks of your walls, some tales aren’t meant to be ignored. These chilling horror stories, dark and unforgiving, are whispered through shadows and stitched together with dread. What follows are five original nightmares that claw at the edges of reality—creatures that stalk the woods, haunted rooms filled with whispers, and guests who never truly leave. These aren’t just stories; they’re warnings wrapped in fiction, crafted to disturb your peace and linger long after the last line. But beware, dear reader—each click may lead you deeper into the dark.
The Chase: The Teeth of Horror Gnaw at my heals
The darkness swallows my existence as I stumble upon another propping root. Sharp, finger-like twigs rip through my skin as I trudge through the stench of dry, rotting trees. The ground feels soggy beneath my bare feet, devouring my every step as it graces me with the sharp sting of pricks and rogue thorns.
I grapple with my breathing, lest they hear me pant. But I fear the beasts can smell the oozing sweat trickling from my pores. For their howls draw near, and their growls grow menacing.
My heart skips a beat at a breaking twig beneath my feet. I stand dead still. Silence grows dense around me. I can feel their eyes bearing through my skin. I sense their drooling jaws gaping hungrily at me, their tongues lapping excitedly over their lips at the throbbing jugular in my throat.
A shadowy figure emerges from the fog, sending icy trickles down my spine. Its cold eyes glow at me in the dark, and its jagged teeth gleam with malice, jolting my heart to a virtual stop.
More eyes manifest all around me. I’m surrounded.
It’s over.
I drop to my knees and close my eyes, waiting for the worst to happen. And as the blood spews from my throat from the first egregious bite, I finally realise the truth of life’s fate–nobody gets out alive.
A Late-Night Visitor: A Creature Feature that Will Haunt Your Dreams
The night has grown old and dark and save for the meowing cat from the neighbour upstairs; the streets have dulled to comforting silence. My eyelids weigh heavy over my drowsy eyes as I struggle to type in the last paragraph of my new shaky novel. But alas, I can bear the fatigue no longer.
‘Meow,’ the cat’s soothing whisper drifts in through the open window by the side of my desk.
I give up, so I flick the study lamp off and put the monitor to sleep. On my bed, the sheets are a warm and welcoming comfort. The dense mattress massages my aching back, and the soft pillow assuages my troubled mind.
‘Meow.’
I take a deep breath and turn to reach for my sleeping wife. The rhythm of her steady breathing and warmth of her body lull my wandering mind and drift me to slumber.
‘Meow.’
I open my eyes. That sounded closer than it should have.
‘Meow.’
I stop breathing. It sounded closer still.
‘Meow.’
I check on my wife. She’s still asleep. A light tap on my desk forces me up for a quick look.
‘Meow.’
The soft moonlight filters in through the window.
‘Meow.’
Its soft glow illuminates a dark silhouette crouching on my desk. Its eyes glow in the dark.
‘Meow.’
I rub my eyes and take a keener look. The cat is bigger than it should be.
‘Meow.’
That’s no cat. It sinks back into the shadows, making its way out the window. As it disappears into the moonlight, I can make out its face.
‘Meow.’
It looks back at me with a wide grin before winking and disappearing down the fire escape.
‘Meow.’
The Guest: A Short Airbnb Story
He was tall, with a chiselled jaw and a cute smile that made my knees wobble. But I knew better than to mix business with pleasure. So, I brushed my hair back and handed him the Airbnb apartment keys, and just like the day before, he whispered the same line to my ear, ‘You look magical with your eyes closed.’
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I walked away and left him to his devices. A text message chimed in my phone, so I checked. It was my guest. He had the same line written in his message. Just before my cheeks could warm up to the text, another message chimed in. It was a photo this time, and its contents made me shudder.
It was me. At night. In my bed. With my eyes closed. Sound asleep.
A Day Off: Grief can be a Terrifying Thing
Yawn.
A dull ache plagues my back as I crawl out of the false comfort of my soft, warm sheets. A sharp ringing persists in my ears from all the wine I had last night. Memories of the piling workload haunt my tortured mind, and I turn to my lovely wife, sleeping soundly by my side. The delicate features of her back are turned towards me.
Smiling, I reach over for a kiss. Her cheeks feel cold against my lips. So I fold another layer of the sheets over her to keep her warm. A text message pings in from the nightstand.
I’m so sorry about your loss, Mr Black. I know it’s taken me a week to reach out, but I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it. Your wife was an amazing person, and we will forever mourn her loss. Take the rest of the week off, Black. We’ve got you covered here at work.
A tear blurs my view as I sob in the dim morning light.
The Silent Haunting: It Stalks me in The Dark
The crickets chirp in the distance as the claws of darkness overpower the light fortress around me. A palpable stillness ails my room, and I can feel the glassy stare of the dolls on the shelf. They watch as I curl into the false safety that is the cover and warmth of my blanket.
They seem silent and inanimate in the dark. Their frozen smiles are an eerie reminder of their lifeless presence. They also warn of the chance, even in the slightest, that they may spring to life at a moment’s notice, eager to claim their rightful place amongst the ranks of the living.
The floors creek and groan, walls expanding and contracting. ‘It’s just the normal inhales and exhales of an old house,’ Mommy would always say. So, I close my eyes and open my ears, keen on listening to the deafening whispers of the silent in the dark. I hear them talk, but I cannot understand what they say.
Are they friend, or are they foe?
There is no way I could truly say.
Then came the whisper. A rasping voice dancing in the confined halls of my wandering mind, ‘Soon. Soon you will feel my breath against the delicate stretch of your pulsating neck. Soon…’
Whether it’s the soft rustle of claws behind your door or the icy whisper breathing down your neck, these chilling horror stories, dark and atmospheric, are a glimpse into a world where terror thrives in the mundane. If these tales left a mark—or a scar—dare to venture further. My books carry these horrors even deeper, weaving longer nightmares you won’t soon escape.
Sink your teeth into the darkness by checking out my full-length horrors on Amazon, follow my reader journey on Goodreads, or keep up with twisted updates on Bookbub. Don’t forget—at Hash Black, the stories visit when it’s dark.
