Short Stories
Welcome to the spine-chilling realm of EWR’s Horror Stories category! Prepare to delve into a meticulously curated collection of terrifying tales that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Our passion for the macabre has driven us to gather a diverse array of horror stories, both classic and contemporary, to satisfy even the most insatiable appetite for fear.
Within this category, you’ll discover a rich tapestry of horror woven by a mix of authorial voices. Some of our stories come from emerging talents, eager to make their mark in the world of horror literature. Others are penned by established authors who have already left an indelible impression on the genre. And, of course, we pay homage to the timeless masters of horror, whose enduring tales continue to haunt and inspire us long after they’ve passed.
From chilling psychological thrillers to blood-curdling tales of the supernatural, our Horror Stories category offers a wide spectrum of scares. Whether you prefer slow-burning, atmospheric horror or fast-paced, visceral frights, you’ll find stories that cater to your darkest desires. Each tale is carefully selected to ensure maximum impact, leaving you breathless and craving more.
So, dear reader, steel your nerves and prepare to immerse yourself in the unsettling world of EWR’s Horror Stories. Explore the depths of human fear, confront the monsters that lurk in the shadows, and revel in the exquisite terror crafted by our talented authors. Remember, in this realm, no one is safe from the clutches of horror. Are you brave enough to proceed.
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“The dead, they’re like parasites. They wait ‘til you’re ill, ‘til you can’t defend yourself. Then they swarm in, like locusts after a bountiful crop. They attach themselves like leaches, feeding off our essence.”
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“Why here?” Chloe asked doubtfully. “Why your Granddad’s shed?
Continue readingA phantom moon crested against the billowed clouds riding the wake of the storm’s ebbing rage. I crouched, shivering as the moon shed light but no warmth in my temporary shelter
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“It’s October 30th,” warned Connor McCann. “Don’t go out alone tonight.”
Continue readingIt was the nameless hour between evening and night. Darkness was threatening to descend upon the frenzied market. Everyone walked with a purpose
Continue readingThe finishings on the vertical planes of the hotel’s interior. An inexpensive or moderately priced paint has been used here in the corridor, a light beige. Its smooth appearance
Continue readingI hated the place. It smelled of urine and old people but, when I heard he was there, I knew it was probably my last chance to face the bastard before his mind was totally gone. He was in his room with his family.
Continue readingI walked through the tall oak doors, entering the dark library. I stopped at the front desk, and knocked on the surface, vainly hoping that someone would be there
Continue readingLike the end of an autumn harvest when the ripened crops have been gathered and the gleanings are scattered along the corners of the fields for the poor, the shrouded dead lay cold before the creeping shade of the old cemetery gate. Its crumbling stone walls await the new arrivals as the tolling of the bells and the low agonizing wails of hungry dogs forewarn the survivors.
Continue reading“Gimme all your Halloween candy, twerp,” the teenager growled as he stepped out of the shrubbery by the cemetery, blocking the path of a boy dressed in a ghost costume.
Continue readingA skeleton and Chucky the killer doll paused on their trek, pillow cases weighed down with candy, sweat dripping down their bodies despite the brittle chill hovering in the air. They were on their last house.
Continue readingI’m in the kitchen, squeezing a teabag against the inside of my mug with a spoon when the kitchen door slams shut. I turn, shaking off the hot brown liquid that has spilt on the back of my hand. When I touch the handle of the door it feels icy cold and rigid as I try in vain to push it down.
Continue readingBrittany Muller shook in fright as she waited in the parking lot for the police to arrive. Behind her, the church where it all happened; ancient stained-glass windows, a fa?ade of dark brick, and a large tower that rose into the sky topped with an eroded crucifix that cast a black contour against the pink stratus clouds. Thirteen religion school children stood beside her crying, some sitting in the grass holding each other?s hands, one girl standing with her arms wrapped around Brittany?s leg because the thing . . . with its horrific eyes . . . and deadly horns . . . was still inside the church.
Continue readingDamn undertaker. This coffin was built for a midget, not a six-foot two ex-rugby player. He must have stuffed me in with a shoe horn. And the heat. If anyone’s coming to rescue me they’d
Continue readingThe clang of metal against metal quickly snapped Olivia back to reality.
Any second now.
The footsteps got louder, and then stopped.
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