Category Archives: Horror Stories

This week, on ‘Ghost Seekers!’

The green light on the recorder flicks on.

“Is there anyone here with us tonight” the man asks. He is sweating and probably looked even worse than normal in that nightvision camera they always use. The camera man swung around capturing the other two people with them. Another man and a woman looked on to the proceedings, occasionally casting their gaze to the ceilings as though ghosts would flock to the great arched heights like birds.

“Yep,” I say. I saw this show before. I’m surprised they haven’t faked anything so far this episode. Really is interesting to see how they film even if they have no idea what they’re doing.

“What’s your name?” the woman asks. She’s cute and must be a new addition to the show. Last time I had a chance to watch it was just the two guys, the fat one and the skinny one. Like Abbott and Costello meet the ghosts. Unless they already made that movie? Shit. Now this is going to bother me. You really do learn to take Google for granted.

“Tom,” I sigh. This is the third time this month I’ve answered that question.

“If you can, speak into the green light, it will let us hear you,” says the skinny guy.

“I know what a tape recorder is,” I say. They always give the dumbest instructions. It’s never like, ‘say the winning lottery numbers.’ Always, “what’s your name, are we alone here.” Why even ask that question. If someone is answering you clearly you’re not alone.

“Are you alone here?” The cute woman again. She seems very dedicated and in to the whole situation. I bet she wants to be an investigative reporter or something and this is her big break. Good for her.

“No,” I say.

Who’s here with you.

“Who’s here with you?” the fat guy asks.

Hah! Called it!

I look over, Jeff gives me a thumbs up and a big smile. Grim grinning ghost he is not.

“Jeff,” I say. I wish I could check the time but I didn’t wear a watch the day of the accident. Can’t beat myself up over it, hindsight after all. Jeff is just excited because there’s another team here. The last one he tugged on a guy’s sweater and brushed some poor teenage girl’s hair. The guy screamed, she fainted, and Jeff fell over. After that he couldn’t stand up for two days, he was so weak, but it’s all he will talk about anymore. Not like we get CNN or anything, so that’s the closest we get to current events. This just in, Jeff is clearly going to try again.

Everything is so rote now. They pull out the meter, I wave in front of it, they shit themselves when the green lights dance across the surface.

You know, maybe the show is fake and we’re the first to actually respond. I mean, we haven’t seen any other ghosts since the accident. Restoring some 14th century castle, you’d think there would be some creepy dead princes or something wandering around. But nope. Me and Jeff, brothers in arms since 2005.

What if we’re flukes?

“How did you die?”

“Stop asking such personal questions! Jesus that’s rude,” I say. Jeff shoots me a look.

“What, I didn’t ask her about how she plans on dying! ‘Oh, you and your asshole friend fell off some scaffolding, spoooooky.'”

“Are you a King? Or a Queen?” Jeff mumbles something into the recorder. Yes Jeff, haha, I get it, I’m the queen. Thanks, prick.

The skinny man stops the recorder and plays it back. Here we go, these guys have a camera crew, they seem legit, let’s hear those melodious pipes of mine.

‘Are you alone here?’ – static –

“It said ‘help me!’ I heard it!” says the fat guy.


Darkness – WftI Episode 1

We finally did it! Here’s the first in our podcast series surrounding scary stories from Darkness was written as a test piece, and as such we’re pretty happy with it. Thanks to the awesome Graham Grochocinski for his help with the audio. We’ve already figured out what needs improving, but overall we hope you enjoy it!

Graves, The Map Part 12

Gaby and I walk across the grass, the grounds of the asylum now pitched in darkness. We slowly begin making our way towards the old hanging tree, our flashlights and lantern off. Its silhouette is highlighted against the brighter sky making finding our way just a matter of dodging thorn bushes and fallen logs. When we get there it’s easy to see why it’s still known as the hanging tree. Torn and shredded lines of rope still hang from the dead, thick branches. They sway in the wind like morbid streamers.

Continue reading Graves, The Map Part 12

The Wendigo

So it has been confirmed. Myself and the other members of are going to be winter camping in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Right now it’s -2 Fahrenheit up there, with 4 inches of snow on the ground.

It’s going to be awesome!

Some of you may remember me mentioning the farm (farmhouse pictured above) in past posts, because it truly is one of my favorite places. It’s welcoming in the summer during the day, and eerie at night. It gets so dark up there, and the fields so open, that your fire can be seen for miles. One year a friend of ours brought up a thermal scope. Thermal scopes pick up traces of heat and render them into visible images. This was a military grade scope, and the landscape lit up all around us at night with the terrain definition of the fields and distant buildings that are lost when sitting by the firelight. It really does bring home just how alone you can be up there and how empty the fields are.

Continue reading The Wendigo

Capsule 7

“Welcome to the Davidson Mark 2 Space Survival Capsule! In case of emergency, fasten harness securely and pull the red lever!”

The tinny voice came through the speakers again. It was a woman’s voice. A voice too damn cheery for what could become a floating tomb if they never found you.

I’ve never been a lucky man, and I thought my transfer to the Liberty would be an exception. Finally get off-world and see the stars. Seemed like the only way to get out there was on a Coalition ship, and in peace time this was a no-brainer assignment.

I’m a shield technician. The heat and radiation kind, not the fun weapons kind. Those guys get to sit on the bridge and scream dramatic updates. “Kinetic shields at 47% Captain!” The Environmental Shielding team gets to say quietly “Shields holding on approach to Star A24-667f.”

Captain Denton never visited us like he did the weapons team. That’s where the promotions were, but that just meant we were able to be a bit more… lax with our standards.

“Welcome to the Davidson Mark 2 Space Survival Capsule! In case of emergency, fasten harness securely and pull the red lever!”

The damn recording again, this time a little slower. Liberty’s emergency power must be failing. The old Chicago-class ships weren’t exactly known for their robustness. We were built for planetary bombardment, dropping big kinetic rods from space to devastate cities. Pinpoint targeting lasers. Nuclear smart bombs. Stuff like that.

We weren’t meant for scientific expeditions so I don’t know what the hell Command was thinking. Sending us this close to a previously unstudied star. We had no idea what kind of solar activity to expect. They didn’t even tell us in Environmental Shielding we were doing anything but cruising through the black. They probably told the Weapons Shielding team. The bastards.

Oh god, I see someone moving through the clouded view port. Poor guy will be dead within a minute.

So we were playing cards, right? And no one tells us whats up. Redundant shield generator 3 goes offline. Now, if we were on one of those new class battle cruisers, like the Avenger, the computer would’ve fixed it. On the old Chicago-class ships, you needed to climb through a tube for ductwork and electronics, breathing coolant that would shorten your life by years unless you wore the rad suit. If you wear the rad suit, you get tangled in the cables and cause more problems. They never thought to give us simple respirators, or the ability to shut off the coolant without having to shut down the engines for a day.

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.

So the next hand we wager who has to go flip the breaker. It was the least important bet at the time. I was already up 3 months worth of credits, never been that lucky, so I counted my blessing when breaker-duty was the hand I lost.

“Welcome to the Davidson Mark 2 Space Surv-” and there goes the recording. The capsule’s generator doesn’t even start unless you detach from the ship.

So there I was, on a winning streak when I decided I’d reset the breaker after I lost my next few hands. Needless to say, it wasn’t for some time. I’m usually a shitty poker player, but my god, you feed some of these boys some jury-rigged distilled moonshine and they lose all ability to play.

I can only imagine what was happening on the deck. The Shields Officer probably ignored the small red light on his console as they stared at the approaching star. Anyways, that’s why we had 1 and 2 shields, right?

There’s Denton, smug in his Captain’s chair while all of a sudden the star chooses that particular moment to flare. And I mean fucking flare. I’d wager it was some kind of record but I imagine the Science Officer won’t be around to tell anyone about it.

First shield just pops instantly, the backup starts to weaken, and I see she’ll break no matter what.

Wait, was that something else? Goddamn grime, can’t see a thing out there.

Well, I grab my credits and run. There’s no way to stabilize the shielding after that big of a hit. We’re going to be toast in minutes. Our emergency alarm is offline. Tom was supposed to fix that yesterday. I breeze past some others before I think to hit the next ‘abandon ship’ alarm box.

The Captain never gave the order until I was in the pod, and by then they were walking dead men. See, the escape pods are built with the understanding that you need a shit-ton of materials to protect from radiation since you lack shields. Shuttles, fighters, and capital ships at least have rudimentary shielding, so more material is set for ablative armor and the like. Radiation shielding is usually an afterthought thanks to the redundancies.

With the third shield we may have made it through this. But we would have anyways if they deemed fit to send the Wanderer instead right? That was their goddamn job! I don’t know if this was some kind of PR Navy cruise where we demonstrated even our orbital weapons cruisers could do peace time shit, so that’s not on me. They never should have approached the star without talking to us anyways. At least then we would know to be sober.

I slam the door shut on the pod and lock the bolts. Shield 2 gives way and radiation floods the ship, killing nearly everyone instantly. I admit, I was crying so hard I couldn’t see the red handle to disconnect the pod. I finally find it, pull it, and… nothing. I shove it into position and pull it again. And out comes that cheery fucking voice.

Through the shielded view port I can see people stagger and collapse as a fire rages out of control in the escape bay. No one makes it to another capsule.

I check my engineering manifest and find a note from the life support team. Capsule 7 is offline. Explosive bolts have been removed, and should have been reinstalled two days ago.

My heart drops. If I can get out quickly enough, maybe I can make it into 6 or 8 before the rads and heat from the fire gets me.

I pressed the button to open the door and nothing.

Wait, no I definitely see movement out there. Maybe a rescue team? I pound on the metal door with my wrench, they have to be able to hear that!

This damn capsule is stuck in a computer loop. Since it hasn’t blown its explosive bolts, it won’t shift to its own power. Once you’ve pulled the handle, it thinks it has blown the bolts and doesn’t let you open the door into space. But you’re there. Stuck in limbo. Without a redundancy.

Thud thud thud

Knocking on the door back, yes!

I strain to see the rescue team. Their lights aren’t penetrating the carbon build up on the glass from the fire. The Captain did something right after all. He must have activated the emergency jump beacon.

I see a spot begin to clear on the window. They’re writing something!

I scream for help, “I’m a survivor! Please get me out!”

A shriveled and burnt finger appears and begins to write.

“No survivors.”

The power fails, and I hear the sound of tools hitting the metal door.

Now we are all sons of bitches

Alright kid, I have a story for you. You buy me another round and I’ll tell you. You ever hear of one of the nukes we lost? I mean the US Air Force lost nukes. Yeah, in ‘68 a B-52 bomber was flying over Greenland. Goes down, crash landing. Conventional bombs go off throwing the nukes on board every which way. Story goes that all of them are accounted for but one.

Big cover up, Denmark got into some shit because they let us keep our nukes in Greenland just a year after announcing they wouldn’t. Some radiation got released.

Anyways, we didn’t lose that nuke. Big thing to say right? I know, I know, you need the facts. Goddamn reporters won’t let someone tell a good story. So, in ‘68 I was part of a tactical fighter squadron based out of Thule Air Base in Greenland. That’s where the bomber was from and where our recovery efforts started. You can find my service record if you look hard enough. Anyways, last chance to duck out of this. I had a lot of men in suits and sunglasses tell me I never saw anything, but I don’t have a family so I don’t give a shit anymore.

Continue reading Now we are all sons of bitches

Horror Haiku’s

A friend of mine suggested on my last post trying horror haiku’s. It was a bit tougher than I expected, but I came up with some results that satisfied me. Not sure how scary they are though, but they were definitely fun to write!

I could feel pounding

As I tried to hold closed

The bloody door

She climbs in to bed

My wife talks about her day

She’s been dead four years

I throw the shovel

A hand grabs me from the dirt

The dirt was too light

The man changes form

Toothed mouth and sharp long claws

Silver does the trick

The man pulls his knife

Tonight she will be his prey

Her claws go unseen

Any other mediums you all would like to see? Let me know and I’ll give them a shot! Sorry I haven’t been writing as much lately, but I’ve been working on my outdoors website, Check it out if you have the time!

More 2 sentence horror stories and some housekeeping

First off, I have some news. Myself and some friends have created another website!, dedicated to camping and outdoor reviews and news. This way I’ll pull some of the stuff I’ve written that doesn’t fit why I created this site to begin with away and publish it to a more proper location. Please check it out! It’s sparse now, but growing a bit each day like the horrible parasite that has replaced your tongue.

Anyways! Back to horror 2 sentence horror.

A beautiful girl winked at me at a funeral yesterday. I wouldn’t have been horrified if she wasn’t in the casket.

I had never ridden in a stretch limo before. The trunk isn’t nearly as nice as I imagine the rest of it to be.

The anesthetic had kicked in but I hadn’t fallen asleep. I could feel it wear off as I wiggled my finger unnoticed by the doctor, who was too engrossed in preparing the bone saw.

I actually live in the attic. I’m sorry it had to be this way, I thought you and your husband had left for work.

Tunnels – an Aside: The Map Part 11

I hear the loud heartbeats and wonder how long I have been dead. I think that it is my heart, starting again. Shaking dust free of rusty pipes and ducts, but the men broke my heart when they left. Others have visited since then, but they never stay. They always leave.

I hear more heartbeats. The heartbeats were brought by two. They hide, but they also scare away the infection. Are they here to stay? To fix my broken heart and bring life into me once more?

I have seen much death. Ants wheeled in, ants wheeled out. All the while my heart would beat and the world would turn. The ants would cry and die but they would keep appearing until one day the ants broke my heart and took all the other ants away.

Now there are two ants. They chase the ones from the ground. They must be warrior ants because the fake ants do not frighten easily. They are sick and do not deserve their heartbeats. They tunnel in to me, around me. They eat the remains of the fallen ants. They look like ants, but they are not. It is a trick to fool me. It does not work.

The two true ants wield the symbols of the queen ants. They make fire and destroy the false prophets. They will stay to be my heartbeat, and I will not let the men take them. The warrior ants will stay until they are taken by time and I die again. I will not allow otherwise. I must be cleansed.


Circuit breakers around the asylum hum once more with the gentle flow of electricity. Gates begin lowering on their own, cutting off vital sections of the facility, including all exits. Still, the ghouls flow in and out of the facility by their tunnels. They honeycomb the land as they feed off the pockets of the dead.

The ghouls have never seen the facility this active. It frightens them, and they return to the safety of their dirt home. They will leave the two intruders in peace for it is not safe anymore.

Dead meat is good, but live meat is better. Live meat is not worth their lives though, so they slink into the Earth and wait for the current storm to pass.

My Top 5 Scary Stories on the Internet

After writing my list of favorite YouTube horror shorts, I remembered that I have several favorite short horror stories that have had an impact on my writing. A few of them really experiment with the new form of writing that online resources can offer. So, without further ado, my favorite internet short stories (and one cheat.) I did not include Slenderman on this list as I was reading the thread in which he was created while it was going on, and it has become so huge that there’s no shortage of stories about him.

The Rake

The Rake was one of the first internet horror story meme’s and it’s clear why. It can be anything from a signal of impending death, to an omen of warning, to a being with completely alien intentions. People have tried to co-opt him into a kind of Slenderman mythos, however the Rake definitely works best as a mysterious standalone story.


The SCP series is interesting because it is written as case files from a mysterious organization tasked with the job of securing, capturing, and protecting dangerous objects and creatures. It is a wiki that anyone can edit, and therein lies the problem. For every excellent entry like SCP-087, you get 3 more that are either wacky self-insert in jokes, or something so over the top that it goes straight into a parody of horror. SCP-087 and the short games based on it however, still creep me out to this day. If I had a team of people kitted out with advanced weapons and the like I think I’d go down there, but we all know what happened to the Colonial Marines in Aliens, so that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

Ted the Caver

Ted the Caver is one of the oldest true internet horror stories. Dating back to 2001 and built on an Angelfire page, it’s a window into what a simpler place the internet used to be. This set into my mind that alternative story telling could be an amazingly creepy thing. There was some controversy as to whether this actually was plagiarized from a different story, however research found that this was actually published first. There are several versions out there, but from what I recall this is the original.

Dionaea House

Reminiscent of House of Leaves, Dionaea House takes the internet storytelling of Ted the Caver to the next level. Scattered across several linked blogs is the story of why a man’s childhood friend committed a random double homicide. I don’t want to say more, but give it a read and be sure to click all the links. This story reinforced my love of journal entry, first person stories.

The Little Fears

This is the cheat I mentioned. The Little Fears is a YouTube video series of a woman reading creepy stories. Her tone and cadence is perfect to put you on edge and make you feel like she knows something that you don’t. All of the stories are very well done, and I can’t really recommend any in particular. Give it a listen late at night, wearing headphones. Unfortunately she very rarely updates (we’re talking years here) but luckily the channel hasn’t been taken down.

So! Now that I’ve told you mine, do you have any stories I should check out? I absolutely adore supernatural horror fiction, so please kick some my way in the comments below! Thanks for reading everyone!