Reading dark, scary and horror stories are the best way to get sucked into
the world of darkness. Stories which are about some horrific or scary events
are collected in here. This might include ghost stories, paranormal events,
dark dreams, death or anything with the theme of darkness in it. Some of these
stories are based on true events and some might be fully fictional. These stories
are by nature twisted and disturbing. Reading these stories may leave you in a
shocked, disturbing, bizarre, eerie state of minds. So please proceed with caution.
And If you happen to experience some scary dark events or feeling like writing a
dark story then please submit your stories with us. We will carefully review your
story and publish it on our website. This way your story will have a big exposure
and you will also get feedback from our users.
12 Jan, 2017 08:18 AM
“AGAIN!” came the cry. It was answered by a thunderous boom followed by an ear shattering crack. Then the sound of a thousand ragged shards of twisted metal raining down upon armor and bodies both dead and alive.
“FORWARD!” Cries of victory and the sound of hundreds of thousands of rushing feet shook the ground as the horde charged its enemies’ final stronghold.
All the remaining Angels retreated here to make their final stand to protect their King.
The first battalion of Demon soldiers through the gates of the Garden were dispatched quickly by the blazing scimitars of the Elohim. Trained by the Archangels, they were indeed a deadly for.
But the second wave were Berserkers. Completely feral and blood crazed, they overcame the Elohim by sheer ferocity. After the battle many of them stopped to feast on the remains of their foes.
It was a clear path through Garden... [Read More]
, Dark Fantasy
, DemonsVotes: 1
11 Jan, 2017 05:25 AM
Some say using big words are just ineffective, useless, demeaning, and plainly idiotic. I, myself, enjoy the use of longer words. Like serene, idiotic, scrupulous, and others such as those. But, when making a point one must not use language that another cannot comprehend. As such, when arguing or stating facts, one does not exaggerate their vocabulary to heights of which the other cannot see, hear, or process. A police officer does not come to a house and say: “Madame, I do regret to dispose of your heavenly evening but your daughter is farther and passed as she can get”. They say it how the fact is, “Your daughter is dead”. But a writer writes in elegant hand and exposes the words like a painting of rhymes, metaphors, and insatiable critique. Thus, when reading a poem to a passed loved one, one must choose to be as elegant as a... [Read More]
, GraphicVotes: 1
03 Dec, 2016 06:11 PM
A few strands, of her hair, messed up falling,she felt someone dark vibe waiting out there. She was the victim haunting music pulsing at her throat she got popped.What fucker's of a different tribe It was a hot humid smoked up day.Looking out the darkness spanked her window, it needed a change,her blood was dripping out of the art-work.She saw his face, coming at her, threatened by him.Turned 4 a second 2 faces came out spitting up blood mirror mirror on the hell of the fall face to face. Rock danger of ricochet, she needed to slip a note, to the detective no one believed her story. The police officer thought she was so paranoid,her husband was in the dark room slaughtering up hell's angel's food,this woman called the slaughter house Police force, so many times crying Wolf!! She got her bloody artist hands, trying to keep steady.She was following... [Read More]
Tags: Dark World
, Dark ClubVotes: 0
04 Nov, 2016 03:03 PM
My heart was pounding as I bolted uphill. I began to pant in fear. The shadows of the trees lurked into the darkness, and the wind growled and slammed cold blasts of air upon me. My thighs got heavier each step, but I couldn't give up because she was right behind me. I stumbled on every rock I encountered and my body wanted to give up. Her growl echoed in the darkness as she flapped her wings and took flight. I knew why she was after me, and she wasn't going to give up until she gets what she wants.
The further I went, the closer she got. The wind blew even harder trying pushing me back, but this time the spooky trees joined in as well. Mud splashed all over my legs and it was raining cats and dogs. I bolted further up the hill but tiredly collapsed as... [Read More]
, GraphicVotes: 3
25 Oct, 2016 03:40 PM
I smelled the most alluring smell steaming out of her living room. “I cooked something special for us today,” Delilah’s voice announced excitedly across the hall. I followed my nose to her living room to find a delicious collection of shrimp, fries, pizza and a huge deck of roasted meat. I positioned myself between Jesse and Dalilah who exchanged each other with hateful glares. Opposite from me stood Joey who held his fork clutched tightly in his fist. He shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth. Occasionally he would talk about his days at school, but today his only focus was his plate.
Awkwardness enlightened the room while Jesse and Dalilah continued to manifest signs of complete hatred. With a look of disgust, Jesse poked the meat repeatedly. “Is this even meat?” He scrunched his face.
“I see that your rudeness has still not left you,” Delilah snarled. Jesse rolled his eyes,... [Read More]
, CheatingVotes: 10
02 Sep, 2016 12:23 AM
The first thing you should know about me is that I’m very faint of heart.
There’s a pamphlet I’ve been looking for for a while now. I remember coming across it a while ago while I was a child. I was at the doctor’s office, the waiting room, getting a physical. The year was 2002. I was born in 1996.
That’s when I saw it. Strewn within the other celebrity or glamor magazines, it peeked out with one, single, gray corner.
It was almost like it was looking at me. I picked it up and read the title.
“How to Talk to Yourself.” by a man named Roger Harrison. There was no graphic, just the white background and the arial font reading the title and the author.
To this day, I’ve never been able to find out who the mysterious Roger Harrison was. I’ve spent countless hours on the internet... [Read More]
, IsolationVotes: 4
27 Jul, 2016 09:47 AM
I’ll always remember my first pick up. It’s one of those things. Like your first love, your first car, or your first pet, but they are good memories. My first job is stored away in my bad memories box, but often comes to mind to send a shudder down my spine. I have seen worse since, but that was my first and I was a virgin to death then.
For the first three days I didn´t see a corpse. I was washing cars, cleaning coffins, learning procedures, all the basic stuff. I was starting to think this job would be easy, then one night they called me on the mobile phone to go to a scene. We went to an apartment building in a less than desirable part of town. The apartment was on the seventh floor. When we reached the door to the apartment I was told by my... [Read More]
, True Story
, GraphicVotes: 1
23 Jun, 2016 11:26 PM
Crumbs fall between my thighs as I munch on my favorite sugar wafers from the Dollar Store. He leans over, looks at me in disgust, then suggests we come up with a way to recreate Heydrich’s gas chambers. He lists off the names of all the people he would shove inside and then admits most of us should probably just volunteer ourselves to go in. Such a disgusting destructive people we are. I begin to draw out a blueprint, but then we grow bored of the whole idea and make love the rest of the night. So much more exciting to see him scream out in agony and hatred when I pull on his balls too hard. I think I felt some skin tear. In the middle of the everglades, bald birds begin to blockade my car. They look like scavengers and I’m sure they are hoping for some left... [Read More]
Tags: Dark World
, Dark MindVotes: 0
10 Jun, 2016 08:36 PM
We're exhausted and our souls have grown weary. Just like the clothes you wore wear out, your soul also wears out. Soon, the tiredness will overwhelm all and there will only be a darkness surrounding the hopes of the souls' wandering. "Does life matter? Does it matter? Does it?" we ask these questions many times. We struggle and frantically kick the air about us but we hit nothing. We're all alone. We suffer alone, and all we love, we love alone.
Some love wishes are granted, and some are rejected. Some death wishes are granted, and some are rejected. Some hope wishes are granted, but some are crushed. The world we live in is as such. Crying out, "Cruel!" doesn't help anyone. No one cares, no one sees. No one sees the hand drowning in the midst of the crowd and assuming it as a waving hand, non fathom. Non... [Read More]
, BeautyVotes: 3
09 Jun, 2016 11:59 AM
Isobell Jankans is a beautiful young woman. Dyed black hair, silver eyes, pale skin, black finger nails, full lips. She feels no pain. Ever.
Isobell was sitting at her table with her go things when the most "popular" prissy princess stopped behind her.
"You always know when she's on her period, Belle," she says.
She's crabber than usual, Belle." They laughed and started to walk away slowly.
"Who are you talking about, Clem?"
"Why, Isobell Jankans of course!"
Now you see, Isobell got to mad, she made a master plan in her head, that she was going to carry out on her own, but 2 of her little gothlings,Raven and Zander, wanted to help. So she told them the plan.
5 hours and 33 seconds later, they had Clem and Belle tied down in metal chairs in Isobell's soundproof basement.
"You hag!" Clem yelled. "Let us go! HELP!... [Read More]
, GraphicVotes: 3