Horror
There was something odd in the tone of the dispatcher’s voice when he called to tell me a person needed picking up at Bramlett Road late one summer night in 1947. I shuddered when I heard the name of the street. I did not want to go anywhere near that area, especially at midnight. But I drove a Yellow Cab, and it was my job to pick up a call when it came. So I swallowed and headed toward Bramlett Road and the slaughter yards. I’d been out of town when “the incident” happened. I call it an incident, but it was murder, plain and not so simple. A fellow name of Brown who drove a cab with our company was robbed and stabbed to death in his cab. Next day a man named Willie Earle was picked up by the police the very next day and put in jail for the crime, though he denied doing it. Then a bunch of hotheads who drove cabs for our company gathered together, passed around a bottle of whiskey and talking about “getting” the fellow who’d stabbed Brown. One of the men went out and borrowed a shotgun, and the mob drove to the jail, grabbed Earle and threw him in the back of one of the cabs. The hotheads took him to the slaughter yards and they dragged Earle forcibly from the cab and started beating him. A man pulled a knife and waded into the mob with it, and Earle shouted: “Lord, you’ve killed me!” That’s when the fellow with the shotgun put a bullet in his head, reloaded, and shot him twice more. When the mob was sure he was dead, they climbed back into their separate cabs and fanned out, each heading back to the city by a different route. Eventually word got out and thirty-one fellows were arrested for the crime. But they were all acquitted by a jury of their peers. After the incident, the slaughterhouse section of Bramlett Road got a bad reputation. No one in the cab company much liked driving there, especially at night. Folks claimed it was haunted by the ghost of Willie Earle. I shivered as I pulled onto Bramlett Road and slowed down to look for my passenger. No one was there. I parked the cab and got out to have a quick smoke while I waited. All at once, the temperature around me plummeted. I froze in place, suddenly terrified, as someone moaned in terror from the other side of the road. The sound scraped my nerves raw. I could hear the unmistakable thud of hammering fists and the darkness was filled with swirling black silhouettes pounding on something...or someone. I fumbled for the icy-cold door handle as a man shouted agony: “Lord, you’ve killed me!” I threw myself inside the cab as a gun exploded, cutting off the man’s cries. The shot was swiftly followed by two more. I squealed the tires as I spun the cab around. A tall, battered figure that glowed just enough for me to see its lolling head, the blood-stained, dead features, the knife-torn clothes blocked the road in front of me. I gasped, floored the gas pedal and swerved around it, heart hammering so hard it hurt my ribs. I was still trembling when slammed into the office a few minutes later and told the dispatcher I was quitting. Then I grabbed my things and headed for home lickety split. There was no way I was going to Bramlett Road ever again. And I never did.
[source](https://www.tumblr.com/offonaherosjourney/723397074245369856/i-love-sci-fi-stories-where-the-reason-why?source=share)
SPOILERS: Documentary: Missing 411 The Hunters A documentary about hunters who seemingly vanished into thin air. Towards the end, a recording from the 1970s in Yosemite is shown where hunters are in a shack recording 'whooping' noises while they're taking shelter hiding from whatever it is in the forest with them. (THE hunters are also mimicking the sounds trying to 'talk' with whatever it is making them. You can tell the distinct difference between them. Tape was also determined to not be fake. But you've got to see it for yourself) Another part in the documentary: woman saw an invisible thing move from tree to tree while bow hunting. Like the alien predator.... she took a picture on her blackberry phone. BUT. The picture was edited to a photo size not even capable for a cell phone to adjust to back then. You'd have to redoe the software in order to get it that size. It's like whatever she took a photo of.... cropped itself out of the Picture. Htf is that possible? This phone is anywhere from a early to mid 2000s blackberry. After watching this documentary obviously I wanted to see what reddit discussions were on it. And the comment I read that I highlighted scared the fuck out of me. Omg
I’d love to hear what messed up answers you guys have. What prompted this question was rewatching 28 Days Later and *(spoiler alert)* seeing a bloody, shirtless, ruthlessly determined Cillian Murphy gauging out a bad guy’s eyes. Just take me now, Cillian. Your turn!
For me, it has to be *The Ring Two*. The original *The Ring* was a masterpiece of psychological horror that kept you on the edge... But the sequel? It felt like a cheap imitation that just couldn’t capture the same magic. The scares were predictable, and the plot was a mess. What about you? Which horror sequel do you think should have stayed on the drawing board?
Or as someone pointed out least hate to be trapped in (least hate to die in?) Consider a building (Overlook Hotel, Hill House, Rose Red etc) Or a town (Derry, Woodsboro, Haddonfield, etc) The only catch is if said place has a ghost or killer that is after a specific person, you also become on their list. For instance, Woodsboro isn't safe just because you aren't Sydney Prescott. As scary of a place as it was, Rose Red would be really cool. And at least as a woman, I am in *less* danger than a male.
www.reelscary.com
https://rue-morgue.com/ https://horrornews.net/ https://www.dreadcentral.com/ https://bloody-disgusting.com/movie/ https://maniacsandmonsters.com/ https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=ott.creaturefeaturestv
SPOILER I'm watching Horror In The High Desert, (found footage) and in the movie, Gary the hiker, found a make shift cabin where smoke was coming from a chimney, 3 days out from where he parked his truck. So it got me wondering, Is it possible there are people living in the mountains like that ? And how would we even know or find out ? How would people get that far in the mountains or forest *without* a vehicle ? Do the make trips into the city and stock up on supplies then haul it all back ever so often ? If they do use a vehicle, where would they park it or hide it to avoid detection ? And what about roads ? This movie got me curious and about that because technically *it is possible* and there is no undeniable proof that there are no people living like that. Idk what do you think ?
Doesn't have to be a recent movie, just one you've seen recently
Like fuck, maybe I should call an ambulance right now. Because Jesus christ, I think I went into cardiac arrest. Lol Huh oh my God. Fucking christ that was too dam scary.
In the quiet town of Willow's End, nestled deep in the fog-covered hills of New England, life had always carried a peaceful rhythm. The children played along cobblestone streets while parents watched from creaky porches. Lanterns flickered softly along the main road, and the old church bell tolled each Sunday without fail. But something had shifted in the air that autumn. The fog clung to the town like a suffocating shroud, and whispers of a strange sickness began to spread. First, it was little Emily Parks who fell ill, her eyes sunken and skin clammy. The local doctor tried in vain to ease her suffering, but within days, she slipped into a fevered delirium, mumbling of "the Hollow Man" before her breath left her. The sickness spread, and with it came the stories. Children spoke of a figure looming in the fog, with eyes like burning coals and a body impossibly thin, its limbs twisted like gnarled tree branches. They called it "the Hollow Man," and soon, no child dared play outside. Parents, desperate to protect their families, nailed their doors shut and covered windows with thick curtains. But the Hollow Man was not deterred by wood or cloth. He slipped through the fog like smoke, seeping into homes unnoticed. At first, families would wake to find the youngest child missing, their beds empty but for a single, splintered wooden toy. Then entire families vanished, leaving behind cold dinners and still-burning lanterns. Reverend Hawkins called for the townsfolk to gather in the church and pray for deliverance. But as the congregation huddled together, a shadow fell across the stained-glass windows, and the Hollow Man stepped through the doors with a slow, deliberate gait. He stood at the altar, a towering, twisted figure with skin stretched tight across his bones like dried leather. His eyes blazed red, and his mouth was a jagged, gaping maw. He opened his arms wide, and the fog poured into the church like a living thing, swirling around the pews and smothering the candles. The townsfolk tried to run, but the fog twisted into clawed hands that snatched them back, dragging them to the floor where the Hollow Man waited with an insatiable hunger. Screams echoed through the fog-shrouded streets, but no one came to help. When the fog finally cleared, the church was empty, the pews overturned and the altar splintered. Blood stained the wooden floor, and the Hollow Man was gone. The next morning, the sheriff and a handful of men ventured to the church, only to find the entire town deserted. Doors hung open, and the houses stood silent. They found no bodies, only an eerie stillness and splintered toys lying on the cobblestone streets. By nightfall, the sheriff and his men were the only living souls left in Willow's End. They holed up in the sheriff's office, every gun loaded and ready. But as the fog rolled in, they heard the sound of footsteps outside, slow and deliberate. The door creaked open, and the Hollow Man stood silhouetted in the fog, his eyes burning like embers. The sheriff fired his shotgun, but the pellets passed through the Hollow Man as though he were made of mist. One by one, the men screamed and were dragged into the fog, their cries echoing until only silence remained. The Hollow Man walked through the empty streets of Willow's End, his crooked limbs moving with unnatural grace. He slipped into the nursery of the last house, where the final child lay trembling in her cradle. With a jagged smile, he reached out and scooped her up, cradling her in his twisted arms as she cried. The fog swirled around them, and the Hollow Man vanished into the mist, leaving the cradle empty and rocking gently. Willow's End stood silent and abandoned, the fog creeping along the empty streets like a living thing. The Hollow Man had claimed his prize, and there was no one left to stop him. Over time, the forest reclaimed the town, and the fog thickened. Some say that if you wander too far into the hills, you can still hear the sound of children crying and the slow creak of an empty cradle rocking in the mist. But no one who ventures into the fog ever returns to tell the tale.  Story prompted from openai Prompt "Write me a really horrifically terrifying, scary short story with an incredibly horrifically terrifying monster, where there's no faith or hope and no one survives, not even children. Make it super sinister and eerily creepy that it leaves the reader unsettled and uncomfortable."
Mine is Dark skies
Dam it was good man ! I really enjoyed it ! If you haven't watched it, you have to go into it blind.
