psychological

Mind games taken way too far; explore the disturbing genre of psychological thrillers that make us question our perception of sanity and reality.

Teardrops
Part One The summer night breeze blows across your skin, wisping through your clothes, and bringing with it the scents and sounds of the sea. The breeze is warm and soothing when it arrives, then cool and longing when it departs, like the fading touch of a lover. Grains of sand shift beneath your bare feet as you walk the beach, but your dry skin prevents them from clinging to you.
By Hosea Jones4 years ago in Horror
Call Box
The writer waits for one of the two elevators to arrive. Floor four, floor five, floor six, it rises to greet her. Impatiently the writer gazes out the window at the parking lot below, with its cars nestled neatly side-by-side, their black windows blinking in the sun. Outside sprawls the gray cement city, several dog-owners are taking their daily stroll along the bike path. Overzealous bikers zip past the lowly bipedal pedestrians. Internally, the writer wonders how many lifetimes could be fitted into this singular, sprawling, finite moment.
By Ann Herrold4 years ago in Horror
Fizza
Fizza waited for the hospice nurse to wrap Nani-ma’s arm. “I’m sorry you had to make an extra visit because of us. I don’t know how she keeps getting out of her bed,” Fizza explained. The nurse gently placed Nani-ma’s hand on the bed. “Please don’t beat yourself up about this. It’s impossible to watch someone 24/7,” the nurse responded. Fizza twisted her hands, her shoulders taut with the tension of the last several hours. “How is it possible for her to even get out of bed? She has a broken hip” she asked. “Actually, it’s more common than you’d think. There’s a possibility that the pain isn’t registering for her anymore, with how far her dementia has progressed. While it might be a balm for her in some ways, as you can see, it can be unsafe too”.
By Sana Khan4 years ago in Horror
Devil in the Dark
I moved out of my mom’s house and into my new apartment today. My mother asked me why I’d chosen to go back to having roommates at 34 years old. She could barely contain the judgment in her voice. She obviously thinks I’m a loser for sharing a living room and kitchenette with two other women. I told her again about all the benefits of my new living arrangement. This will allow me to save money and finally pay off that student loan debt that’s still hanging around my neck like an albatross. It means I won’t have to worry about upkeep in the yard like I did after Derek and I divorced. And Samara and Jane are really cool so it’s like having a slumber party with your friends every night. But still, all my mom sees is that her daughter is frozen in some perpetual adolescence. She thinks I won’t ever find another husband this way. “Time is ticking,” as she always says.
By Lauren Hayes4 years ago in Horror
Insomnia
My eyes fluttered open. I stared into the hazy interdimensional portal between sleep and consciousness debating if I should fade back into a deep slumber or pull myself into the living world. Something must have woken me up. I forced my heavy eyelids completely open, but the bedroom had transformed into an obsidian cave.
By Ash Nightengale 4 years ago in Horror
The Truckstop
Razor had been watching the truck stop all week. In and out, in and out. One after the other. He watched them intently.
By The Smart Girl Group4 years ago in Horror
Better to Light A Match Than Curse the Darkness
by: Dennis R. Humphreys Life was... descent. I had grown up assuming that getting abused was normal and called discipline. I guess I carried thoughts in my head that kept me from achieving more than I had and suspicious of my own abilities. The thoughts crystallized from the words and names I was bombarded with regularly. My attention wasn't long for as soon as my goals were almost met, they were dropped. It was an ongoing pattern of failure, or at least mediocrity, sprinkled with occasional success that amounted to nothing.
By Dennis Humphreys4 years ago in Horror
From Dust to Ashes
“When did these visual occurrences start?” The corners of the dingy office look like they haven’t been painted in a while. Dust covers once-white walls like ash; sadness covers gray carpet. I feel the grit in my throat.
By Vivian Clarke4 years ago in Horror
SleepWalker
Chapter 1 Agony
By Clark Wallace4 years ago in Horror
Wealth
The crisp air blew leaves onto the floor as Adam walked into his apartment building. He stood for a moment, wiping the outside from his jacket before closing the door, then looked at the wall of brass mailboxes. At eye level, number six glared at him. He unlocked the little square plate to find a stack of envelopes waiting, and he pushed out a long sigh as he snatched them up.
By Ben Johnson4 years ago in Horror
When You Leave...
I have compared sitting in this hallway to a fair purgatory destination for the worst kind of people. A thick and almost nauseating stench of old oak, medicine, and sanitation cleansers waged war on my nasal cavity. The anxiety on this floor alone was enough all by itself.
By Yvette Couvson4 years ago in Horror
Thirst
A tiny ray of light hits my eye, pulling me from a terrible sleep. I turn my head towards the window and open my eyes. Another day. An even day. I look back to the sandstone brick next to my bed and dig my thumbnail into it. Today should be an X day. My fingertips graze over the other marks, twenty-four of them neatly marching along the same brick. Twelve of them with an ‘X’ hovering above. Every other day without fail. X days are the worst and best days all at once.
By Sarah DuPerron4 years ago in Horror