Set your story in a countryside house that’s filled with shadows.
Posted in Horror on Oct 25, 2022
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✍️ 174 stories
“Guardian” by Arya ...
TRIGGER WARNING: Suicidal thoughtsThe dark and loud raining thunderstorm outside the glass window contrasted with the quiet reflection of the burning amber from the candle-light dinner inside the Marianne Hotel's solemn but cosy dining area. The wind escaped into the room from the open door, disrupting the already flickering candle and casted a sweet orange shade on the faces of the pair of a man and a woman seated closest to the window. "Why are you following me? Who sent you?""Miss. I'm y...
“Moonrise” by Rachel Loughran
At the top of a hill, reachable only after a slow, bumpy drive through dense and shadowy woods, sat a house. A grand one. Well, once. Built in the 1870s by a wealthy landowner, the house was designed in the popular Queen Anne Revival style, with warm red brickwork and an asymmetrical front. It had a wide porch and corner tower which was throttled with ivy by the time the young man and his pregnant wife bought the place, 140 years after the last brick was laid. A strange and oddly beautiful place, it had struggled to attract owners for yea...
“Shadow of the Son” by Waverley Stark
Some people in this life are wisps, pale fragments of themselves, delicate grey skin and skinny bones broken from being shoved into winds meant for greater strength than they possessed, caught up and trembling, probably addicted in one way or another, too scared to change, too self-pitying to try, too sick to care, too angry to love. Two of these people had a son. And a house by extension. Family members, headed by a formidable "Aunt Angie", scraped together funds for a new life-- do it for the child, Martha-...
“Shadows of People Past” by Svara Narasiah
On the thirteenth day of May, a shadow escaped Trotter Home. It found a tiny crack in the window, not wider than a hair. But it was enough for a shadow to seep through, and seep through it did. Rejoicing at its freedom, it wove around the little house, leaving a faint trail that smelled of smoke and dust. It brushed the green grass, yellowing the tips, and expanded so that it filled the backyard entirely, wilting the flo...
“The House in the Country” by Larry Rhoton
The back door to the house was locked, but a swift kick to the jam popped it open. Six teenagers walked into the dimly lit dwelling. The air was stale and musty; it was offensive to the senses. At one time, the old home sat on a manicured yard laced with roses, dogwoods, and hydrangeas. Flower beds lined the edges of the foundations, and flowers burst forth with an array of colors. Mother Nature dipped h...
“Willow Vineyard” by Kat Sencen
I look out the window, staring at the vines arranged in colorful green alleys. Grapes are growing from them. Grapes we’ll use to make our famous wine. Wine the young people will drink. It doesn't make any sense to me- everyone knows what alcohol does to you. Why consume it?It’s the late summer, meaning the vines are at the most vibrant stage of the grape season. Yet soon they’ll get duller. And by the time winter comes around, the grapes will start to go bad and they won’t produce good wine. Near the beginning of school, they’ll be...
“A place of shadow” by Ron Arthurs
A massive place, this historical building. It was originally owned by the church, now it is a boarding school for naughty boys. A place where parents can safely ignore their responsibility to their offspring, and then, later in the child’s life, blame the school for all his faults, crimes and whatnot. The main block has 2 floors an...
“Avelina” by Kevin Broccoli
Aveline lost the sight in her left eye first. It happened while she was out in the yard, checking on the vines sniveling up towards the second floor window, when a crow called and her vision split. She fell back against the back wall of her cottage. The force of the loss was such that, for a moment, she thought perhaps she’d been struck by something. But then there was no pain, no trauma s...
“The Witch at the Top of the Hill” by Hannah Brown
TW: abuse, stalking The farmhouse on the hill was a lonely place. It had once been a bustling farm. Many years hence. Now however, the dark stone building stood like a headstone in the hills. Alone. There were still chickens. A handful of sheep. One old belligerent mare. And a barn cat of midnight black. And, if you believed the rumours, a solitary witch. A thriving herb garden. A brackish pond with geese in the summer. The house itself was as old as the hills. Still standing by some act of nature. The stones used ...
“An Ancestral Spirit Calls ” by Sandra Morrical
There was something cold in that room. You could feel it. It was a cold that chilled you to the bone. The cold of the unknown, the supernatural and yet it felt as real as touching ice or snow. Then I saw it or her. I don’t know which. I caught it out of the corner of my eye and I felt my heart and soul turn to ice. I saw it or her for only a second a shadow, and yet, I knew there was something there, something not of thi...
“Cynthia” by Helen Ross
Sadie was beyond tired of London. I know, I know, 'if you're tired of London, you're tired of life'; honestly, she was tired of life. The trees didn't seem so green these days, the birds seemed to sing less and less, and the things that had once made London perfect - noise and chatter and people and places and things to see - suddenly seemed overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. The underground was crowded. Her flat was tiny. The streets were busy. Work was hard, and long, and she was tired all the time. Ever since the funeral, sh...
“Shadow Gazing” by Rahu Ketu
Shadow Gazing For over few months, I have been trying a strange experiment called shadow gazing. I would go to the terrace each morning, stand against the sun and stare at my shadow for a while, after which I would shut my eyes and look at the sky. Each time the impression that I had of the shadow in my mind’s eye was of a different ...
“On That Back Road” by Molly Leasure
“They won’t understand the history,” he rasps over the line. “If something starts happening, they’re not going to understand it.” “It’s not as though the house is filled with ghosts,” I answer. “For anyone else.” His tone softens, pity easing into his words. “But for you, they’re in every doorway, every room, every corner. And you want to walk back in there on your own? Are you sure you don’t need me wit...
“You Can't Draw in the Dark” by Elizabeth Atkin
TW: violence, murder It was so, so dark. She couldn’t remember the last time it had been light. Not here, never here. Yet it was here in this house that she was stuck, with its creaking stairs that groaned and its peeling brown walls that sighed whenever the wind blew by, and its beautiful paintings made blurry and indistinct by their thick coating of dust. Here, in the shadowed room with heavy curtains closed, painted with pain and memory, she couldn’t imagine it holding anything but darkness and scars. ...
“Sorrowful Wolves” by Phoebe DeNeve
Trigger warning of suicidal thoughtsCreak!The sound was followed by the booming noise of thunder, as I nudged the door open. I was soaked from head to toe with rain water.I barely had enough energy to get to the kitchen table, and slump into the old wooden chair. "Daddy, don't leave me. I'm scared." my 13-year old daughter's dying words rang throughout my mind, and I rubbed my face with my sweaty palms.Sophie, my daughter, was all I had left after losing my wife 10 years before. "Wh...
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