What makes the story one of the best of the 20th century are the brilliantly coded bits of ambiguity and the menace of possibility. A story guaranteed to get both your pulse and mind racing.
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My long finger wags at you otherwise… His short fictions, some of the best recently collected in his brilliant Interior Darkness , are as equally experimental as they are uniquely horrifying. The story is vivid in its deal and carefully constructed sentences, yet it also reads like a dreamy fairy tale, one of the darkest ones. Compelling, disturbing and unflinching; we are all culpable, and we are the city. This freaking story!
A man trapped in a mine for seven days is eventually rescued. How do you live through this? How do you go on? How does anyone go on? More Dark is the horror genre writers and its community cracked open and laid bare. Paul Tremblay's chilling new short story collection Growing Things is published by Titan Books and will be released on 2nd of July.
Pre-order it now from Amazon in paperback or on K indle. Sign up to the newsletter for more exclusive shortlists. It proceeded to rock its way halfway across the room and stopped dead under the ceiling light. At this point I was freaking out and just buried my head under my blankets and never peeked out again until morning. It was all confirmed to not be a dream as the rocking horse was still in the middle of my room when I woke up.
Furthermore, I got a stern reprimand from my parents for being up out of bed playing with my toys well past my bedtime. The Following. I lived with her once for about 3 months, and so much weird stuff happened in that time. All my sister would say to me when I mentioned it was that her ghost "didn't like me being there. Things like going to bed with everything locked up and switched off and waking up in the morning with the back door open, lights on and the kettle switched on. One night my sister and I were getting ready to go out and I'd asked to borrow her liquid foundation.
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I used it and put it back where she kept her makeup. Ten minutes later she's asking me for it and it was nowhere to be seen. She accused me of taking it and made me buy her a new one and refused to listen to my side of the story. About a year or so later when she was packing to move to a new house, she found the makeup in a shoebox with some old letters.
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The shoebox was in a zipped up suitcase that was underneath her bed. But probably the most scared I ever felt was one afternoon when I was the only one in the house which never happened as four other people lived there. I'd arrived home from work and headed straight to the bathroom. I was standing in the bathroom and started squeezing a pimple on my chin when a female voice in the hall said "stop picking your zits! So I laughed, told her to "fuck off" and asked what she was doing for dinner. No answer. I stuck my head out into the hall. No one there. I searched the house top to bottom and there was no one home.
I sat out on the front porch until someone else got home because I didn't want to be in there alone. Annie96 Is Typing. This is much more of an interactive experience than anything else on the list. As you read through this WhatsApp conversation you have to manually click enter to make each new message appear. It's as close to a text-based horror movie you'll find. The Whispers. This is a story I do not often tell.
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I promise, sincerely, that this has scarred me for life and although I have looked into psychological explanations for what I heard and natural explanations for what occurred, they remain unsatisfactory. When I was a child, I was scared of the dark. I swore to my mother I heard voices in it. They were not evil, but they were not familiar and so they scared me. It was not uncommon in the middle of the night for me to wake up and hear "whispers" as I would call them when asking my mom.
She figured they were just "bumps in the night" and typical kids nightmare material. I tried often to explain to her that it was more than that; that they sounded different from one another the way people's voices do. On some nights I would get so scared from these "whispers" that I would sleep in my mom's bed with her.
It was an added bonus that the bathroom was directly outside of her bedroom door for my late-night tinkles. I should add at this point that when walking out into the hall to go to the bathroom, you looked directly down the stairs that would lead you into my living room on the first floor as my mom's bedroom was on the second floor.
On one such night, around Christmas, I awoke and felt the need to relieve myself. I walked out from the door and distinctly heard the phrase "Look! The light had no other source, it was by itself, and I was transfixed by it. How else could he get into my house to know I was being a good boy? I was so excited I began walking down the stairs to greet him, picking up my pace after the second step as it began to creep off the wall and fade into the darkness in my living room.
That's when I heard him.
A very strong, masculine voice. Different from the first. Not at all like my father's not to say he isn't masculine, it was just distinctly different. It said, "Stop! Right now. Go back up those stairs.
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After reaching the top of the stairs, I heard a very loud CRASH that sent me running back to my mother's bed where I jumped straight under the covers and stayed there the whole night. When we awoke the next morning, the poinsettia lights little Christmas flower lights that glowed red my mother had put on the railing down the stairs were pulled straight down to the bottom of the stairs, some broken from what seemed like a forceful tear, laying in a single pile.
The dry sink in my living room had fallen from the wall. My mother could not explain it! My father was worried we had been the victims of a home invasion. My sister was crying. There was nothing missing, nobody had broken in, there did not seem to be any reason this had happened. And then I saw it, and I kept quiet about it because I was so afraid that I could not force words out of my mouth.
There, on the edge of the wooden dry sink which had been facing up, were three indentations where the finish on the wood had been worn, almost as if in a forceful grip. That was what the bang was.
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I was mortified. After that day I never heard a single voice again. I do not like to imagine what was waiting downstairs for me that night, if it was anything at all, but I can tell you that the reality was that something had physically acted upon two things in my house near the bottom of that stairwell. After this, I had never heard another whisper again. Which is sad, because in some ways I would have liked to thank the man masculine energy? This happened when I was 7. I am 20 years old now, and because of this incident I am still afraid of the dark.
The Grandfather. My grandfather told me this story about how one time he was sitting in a chair in front of the house, when he heard his wife repeatedly calling him from inside the house. The thing is, my grandmother passed away a few years before that. But he told me that the voice was so pressing that he actually got up to look inside the house, and as soon as he got inside he heard a loud crash behind him and turned around to see that the chair he has been sitting in moments ago had been crushed by the cast iron gutter that fell on it.
If he hadn't come inside the house he would have probably been seriously injured. I don't know if it's paranormal or not, but every time I think about it it sends chills down my spine. The Crib Shadow. I was babysitting my niece once while I was staying at my brother's place, and they had the baby camera setup so I could see her on the little TV it came with. I was studying and started dozing off when I heard some whispering and realized it was coming from the monitor. I initially thought it was some feedback or something, but when I looked at the TV there was a dark shadow near my niece's crib.
I have never been more terrified in my life, but the shadow was clearly there where it had not been before. I ran to my niece's room and looked around and saw nothing, but I took her the hell out of there. I went back to the TV, and the shadow was clearly gone. I told my brother what happened and he pulled me aside and told me not to mention it to my sister-in-law because she'll freak out, but that he had seen that same thing several times now, with the same whispering.
They stayed in that house for about four more years and when my niece was just learning to talk she would tell her mom about her 'special friend. When they moved out, my brother told me my niece had become inconsolably sad because she would miss her 'friend. We have never to this day told her about that damn shadow, and she apparently never saw it. The Shadow. I didn't know that's what it was called until much later. I was living in a house in Laguna Beach that had been there since the s.
In it's history, it had been a speakeasy, a brothel and a house for smuggling illegal immigrants. One day, my new wife and I were having an argument. I can't even recall what it was about. She walked down the block to get a cup of coffee and cool off, and I was alone in the house. The way the place was built was incredibly haphazard.
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There was a bedroom and living room on one side, then a bathroom with two entrances. On the other side of the bathroom was a hallway that had windows in one side and two bedrooms on the other. From my bedroom, I could look across the hall into the bathroom, then through the bathroom and down the other hall. I was standing at my dresser, and I just noticed movement out the corner of my eye, and looked down there. There was It was maybe three feet tall, and it was only vaguely humanoid.
There was no sound that I could remember. Then it noticed me looking at it. I can't say it turned around, it just, focused on me I guess. THEN I was scared. I screamed. I yelled for my wife. She wasn't home. I went the fuck outside, into the daylight, and didn't go back in until she got home about 10 minutes later. I don't believe in ghosts. I don't believe I saw something supernatural, but I know I saw something.
I don't know what it was. The Princess. How did The Princess take control of our message board, if only for a few seconds? It didn't make any sense. Our message board wasn't a video game. Our message board pulled all its information from the Internet. The Princess was already inhabiting a game at the same time. All the rules we thought we knew, all the things we thought kept us safe had failed us. Could she have done this at any time? Could she do it again? Were there any real limits to what she was capable of? We looked through all the data we'd collected. We tried to find some common thread we'd been missing.
There must have been some way we could have known. There had to be more answers than what we were seeing. And there were. We finally realized the truth. It was so obvious. The Princess had been in our message board the whole time. She was on every page. She was on every forum list. She'd been staring at us, watching us for years and we never even saw it.
She was the banner at the top of the forum. She was every screenshot we'd posted, every video we'd uploaded and every piece of fan art we'd drawn. I cried myself to sleep , and I still remember the man's face to this day. I'd never met anyone who looked like that, and neither had my parents. The space was closed for at least 20 years before we moved in because the previous owner had killed his wife, and then himself. We moved in two months ago and almost every day at exactly p. We've looked at the security recordings and everything, and there's never anyone there. The other day I was alone in the office late in the evening.
I was on my way out so I turned off all the lights, closed the windows, and activated the alarm. When I turned to close the door, the kitchen light was on even though I had just turned it off. Another time, I arrived in the morning and the light in the main room turned itself off. I even heard the sound of the switch flipping. The last straw was when I saw my someone else's face next to mine in the reflection of my computer screen.
There was no one there when I turned around. I decided to talk about these things with the building manager's wife, who's lived in the building for several years. She assured me that it's actually pretty quiet in the building these days, and that there used to be a lot more strange occurrences, and at least now she can take the elevator by herself.
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I just laughed nervously. One day while we were at the mall, I suggested that she wait in the food court while I was getting our food. When I returned with our meals, she had a strange look on her face, so I asked her if she was okay. She said she was fine, so we finished our meals and left. As we were riding down the escalator to leave, I turned to talk to my mother, and I almost had a heart attack because standing behind her was a man in old-fashioned clothing holding one of my mother's shoulders and looking at me with a very angry expression.
She saw the shock on my face right away and shouted at me asking what was wrong. When I told her what I had seen, she started crying and said, 'you just described the man that tries to kill me every night in my nightmares. In the middle of the night, after my sister had fallen asleep, I saw the nearby computer mouse start moving by itself. I called my mother into the room and she said it was probably a rat that was pulling on the cable from underneath the desk, and that I should just go to sleep. Suddenly, I swear I saw a black figure with no face or human features behind the bookcase.
It looked in my direction and pointed. I nearly shat myself with fear! I remember saying, 'Who are you? I do not want you in my house! Nobody wants you here! Get out of here now! The cabinet began to sway, and the door slammed and made a loud bang. Once he was in the bedroom, he started to rock back and forth and giggle in a voice that made my hair stand on end.
I ran out of the room, shivering with fear. My husband went in to check on him and soon returned saying our friend wanted to talk to me. I went into the bedroom where my friend walked up to me with his eyes rolled back into his, made a few little grunts and said, "this is my house. When he knelt again the phone rang loudly and he came out of the trance. About a month later I found out I was pregnant, which may explain the gesture he made. My father-in-law had died eight months before this incident, which might explains the 'this is my house. When I sat up, she started to accuse me of having done things that I hadn't done, saying that I had apparently stolen someone from her.
I don't know what was going through my head to argue with a ghost, but eventually I decided to ignore her and go back to sleep. She then pulled me out the bed while attacking my body. She suddenly disappeared and I was so afraid I couldn't get back to sleep. The whole thing felt so real that I was actually sore the next day, especially around my ankles where she had grabbed me while pulling me from the bed. We tried to light some candles and, crazy as it sounds, they just wouldn't light, no matter how long I held the match to them.
After a little while, I managed to light them, and we turned off the lights and closed the windows. Out of nowhere my friend's mother called her, asking if everything was okay with her. Apparently she suddenly felt a 'pang of worry'. After my friend calmed her mother down, we started using the Ouija board, but nothing happened, other than the candle flames moving kind of strangely.