Horror-Writers-Unite

The Case of Edward HolmesTrials of a struggling but talented writer The AppointmentEdward Holmes was a struggling writer. He graduated from an accredited university with a Bachelor in Literature and Letters, and he steadily sought work as a writer. With basic skill in drawing and painting, Edward hoped to publish both illustrated and non-illustrated stories in a magazine. Edward began by submitting short stories (four to five pages) to sundry magazines in his city. Many magazine editors accepted his work. Around the end of that year, one of the editors introduced him to a new magazine where he might get accepted fast. Edward agreed to contac

The Storm The sky grew pitch with dark clouds of rain; The wind howled like a rabid hound. Cold, heavy rain drops fell hard on my window pain; Scattering everyone and everything on the ground. I closed my window to block both rain and wind; But the strength of the wind proved great. Not long after that, it blew coldly inside; All I could do was to wait. I waited for one hour,but it did not abate. No. Instead, it blew inside with its full force. So, I turned and ran like hunted stag And headed fast for my door. The wind ran after, Howling like laughter; Until morning, around half past four.

The basement was the only part of the house I hadn't explored yet. The unpacking took a week, our last minute decision to paint a few walls took forever, it was a solid month before I had any free time at all to enjoy our new home. The house was on six acres of land- some fields, some forest and I had been out most of the morning walking around the property with my dog Lila. We were out in the country, only few houses nearby and it was much quieter than I was used to, and I loved that. I made a cup of tea and headed for basement, curious about what I'd find down there, if anything. The light was dim, the air stale and there were a few boxes a

The House of RathboneTragedy befalls on the family of attorneys of this name In the back lanes of the city of Leeds, in United Kingdom, there stood a grand manor in Victorian style that belonged to a respected family titled Rathbone. From grandfather to father to son, the men held the reputation of district attorney. The foremost was the founding father, Sydney Rathbone. In Queen Victoria's reign, he had successfully convicted various men and some women of their crimes, after ascertaining that his evidence and witnesses were valid. Toward his demise, he handed this to his son Edwin, who followed his father's footsteps carefully. But, althoug

The Townhouse"It had been closed and locked for two years." Finding the door to the old house locked from within, Gerald Osborn found a window unlocked and crept through it into the interior of the house like a cat burglar. At first, his sense of smell was affronted by an overpowering odor of decay. Then, he scanned his environment as best he could despite the shadows, which seemed to linger around him. He felt steadily very nervous, but he continued to look around him. Gerald spent more than one hour looking around. Despite the dim light and the shadows, he developed a keen sensation that someone was scrutinizing him from the darkness. [It

Last Moments He lay so still upon his bed, Like a lifeless corpse, someone said; He wheezed, he coughed,he gasped for breath; He lay silently there, like someone dead. It mad us all wonder when comes his death. The hours passed by like clouds in the sky, Then, perchance, Heaven heard what was said? For, when the doctor came that night, He examined the patient and declared him dead.