Prologue of my first attempt to tackle The Mascot Horror Genre and Horror in general.
Man Grandiose’s Origins: Prologue
February 12, 2025
Published by AgentFacultas
Category: Horror
The Haunting of Haddonfield
October 19, 2024
(updated October 19, 2024)
Published by Jimin_00
On Halloween night, four friends decided to explore the old Myers house in Haddonfield, the place where Michael Myers had haunted the town for years. As they entered, the air felt cold, and the wind howled outside.
They joked at first, but then they heard a low whisper “Let me in” Panic set in. Suddenly, the front door slammed shut, trapping them inside. They tried to escape, but the windows wouldn’t budge..
In the darkness, they saw a shadow move,tall, wearing that familiar white mask. “He’s here!” Sarah screamed. They scattered, but one by one, he picked them off, their terrified cries echoing in the night.
Only Sarah remained, shaking and alone.She raced to the door, but it swung open. The figure stood there, looming. “Let me in” it whispered softly. As she vanished into the dark, Haddonfield fell silent once more, leaving nothing but the wind and a new Halloween legend…
Note: This story was inspired by “Halloween Kills” but with an original twist :]
Created by {Jimin}
The Nephilim (sideways I know)
November 3, 2021
Published by TheNerdEternalPen
Scarlet Lake (part two)
October 19, 2018
Published by DragonOtaku
I was ignorant. That “world” waiting for me wasn’t beautiful. It was unforgiving, and it took everything from me. But it also gave me more than I could know. No, that world wasn’t “waiting” for me. It was rushing me to my end. And I had no idea.
That day, I had discovered a hideaway of sorts. Just a little clearing in the foliage, with the occasional dragonfly fluttering by. I stumbled across it while running through the trees. I had ran from the house during an argument between my mother and stepfather. They were yelling at each other, yet again, nonstop. And I couldn’t take it anymore. It had been going on forever. And only that one day did I discover and enjoy the only solace left to me: the clearing. The same clearing where, on that day, I had shed my last living tears. While I was running, tears leaked from my eyes constantly. My face was drenched with them. Why did they ever marry? Was it just to prove people wrong? Just so they could say how they had been right? My brother. Why had I left him behind? He would have to live with that his entire life. And no one would be there to help him. He’s just a helpless infant, and he can’t defy his wretched parents. He can’t do anything about them, and even when he was older, we were too far away from any help to run to. That’s why I was running to one of the only places I knew. I knew that when my brother got older, the mental abuse would start. And from there, it would only get worse. I felt horrible and weak, knowing that I wasn’t strong enough to stay and help him. My mix of emotions was only making me collapse to my knees more often. I was a combination of depressed, stressed, confused, and angry. But mostly, the anger was toward myself.
It was dark and cold, as it should be at night. The moonlight shined down, reflecting off the lake, surrounded by stars. The never ending darkness continued to engulf the land as I ran. I hoped, at least, they would never go as far with my brother as they had with me. Please, I thought, as I rubbed my sore and bruised arm, don’t hurt him like you hurt me.
Scarlet Lake
October 18, 2018
(updated December 6, 2020)
Published by DragonOtaku
The sun is dark. It’s a false shine that gives people hope, and guides them through times of darkness. A flame in the pitch black world of security and safety we live in. The very same shining sun that reflects off the water. The water of the oceans, the lakes, the rivers, and the puddles. It makes them, maybe, even more beautiful. But not now. I live where it does not. I can see the darkness within the light. I’m no optimist, but not even an optimist could find the light that should reflect off the surface of the water. Everyone thinks that the surface of a lake is typically serene, beautiful, and still. But they are so captivated by the sight that they forget. There are things under the surface of the shining lie: only I know what they are. And it’s a horrifying knowledge to have. It cost me my life.
I wandered across the edge of the lake, eager to find out it’s secrets and the secrets of what surrounded it. It was beautiful, there were all kinds of animals and insects, most of which seemed impossibly magical. This was my favorite place on earth. I had no idea about the danger and darkness surrounding it that would eventually be what led to the end of me. The true beginning of my short lived and joyful life. The end of what had all been a lie, the beginning of the painful truth. Maybe I would have cared if I could still feel that pain.
I was, as most children that age were, careless and easily excited. I was contented by the smallest of things, pleasant surprises, and knowing that there was what seemed to be an entire world waiting for me to explore it.
Suicidal Sense of Security
October 13, 2018
(updated October 13, 2018)
Published by DragonOtaku
Blood is smeared across my skin, splattered on my clothes. My open wounds sting, all the while becoming more painful. I hold, still, the knife that created theses wounds. I force the best smile I can as I hear someone walk near me. They touch my shoulder. I turn around, forcing the smile even more. They saw my face. I could tell. They stepped back with a horrified look on their face, and my painful smile turned to a grimace. I laugh, and it echoes off the walls with a maniacal, ominous sound. They run.
“What’s wrong? I’m no different than before, haven’t you ever noticed?” I say, laughing as I chase them.
They scream for help. Their name doesn’t matter to me, no one’s name ever has. Everyone is the same. They refuse to believe that death is real, that they’ll all fall into it’s clutches eventually.
Insecurity And Insomnia
October 12, 2018
Published by DragonOtaku
I lay on my bed, staring out the window. It’s not the most interesting sight. Just some fog, a few trees in the distance. I turn onto my side, only to see the glowing red of the numbers on an alarm clock. The time reflects in my bloodshot eyes. 5:00 in the morning. I haven’t even closed my eyes. My skin is oddly pale, and my delusions are overcoming me. I lift my hand in front of my face, and rub my head. The permanent migraine in my mind isn’t making anything better. But my delusions aren’t fake: they’re there. All of them, staring at me in disappointment. I feel something touch my face, and it shifts uncomfortably on my arm. I’m hooked up to some equipment, and I’m not sure of it’s purpose. The itchy fabric of a hospital gown scratches against my skin. The sheets smell of cheap detergent. There’s a tv in front of me, mounted on the wall. The screen is black, and it’s obviously been turned off for a while. But it isn’t blank: no, there’s a reflection. I’m breathing unsteadily, and every breath cuts deeper into my stomach. The door is open, and has been for a few seconds. This can’t be one of my hallucinations: the door wouldn’t be open. I move a bit, and realize that I’ve got stitches down my side, a few different places on my face, and quite a few other places as well. I don’t remember anything even happening: but I know something has. There’s a table of surgical tools beside me: a knife is the only one I can identify. It didn’t help my fear that they were all covered in blood splatters either. My arm is twitching, and there’s an urge inside it. It flashes to the table and grabs the knife, eager to use it. I see again the darkened silhouette of a person. It walks toward me, and my arm extends. I looked up at where the knife had landed: the heart of the silhouette. But it’s not a silhouette any more: It’s a full color person: me.
The Screams of Silence
October 12, 2018
Published by DragonOtaku
I’ve stood here waiting for years. I’ve stayed forever changed: it’s impossible. I can’t feel anything, not even the freezing time. Not even the pain of the knife through my heart. Not the pain of the bullet through my brain. Why? Why can I hear my silent scream? It’s a raging, ominous sound that can’t be heard. Then why is it so loud? Why does it never stop? The ticking of the clock goes on, but still, time doesn’t pass. It changes around me, a world once beautiful. My eyes are blank, staring into the nothingness I see. How does everyone live so contently? There are killers on the loose, driven insane by a scream that no one can hear. My scream. I was wrong. I’m not standing, I’m falling. Falling to the ground, breathing heavily. I’m exhausted, and it feels like I’ve been running. Because I was. Running from the death that engulfs me every day, the memories of chaos and darkness that scrape through my mind painfully. I’m not insane. I’m the only sane one. I’m not dead. I’m not dying. So why do I not feel the pain that’s there? Why does the pain feel me? How? Why can’t I stand? Why is my hand reaching for the handle of the knife in my chest? It’s blade is stained with my own blood, which suddenly comes out of my mouth without any warning. I kneel there in a pool of my blood, my blood. And still no pain. What has this place become? No, what have I become? Become… but I’ve always been this way… or have I? I’m the puppet of another, I can feel it through my body. This isn’t my choice. I’m ripping the space between death and life, the knife is in my hand. But now it isn’t my blood that I see. This is the blood of another. The blood of one of The Fallen. The blood not of my body, but of my soul. It’s not a deep crimson, it’s a pitch black color. How do they live so carelessly? I remain, a shred of society that has fallen prey to themselves. I looked down to my blade, dripping black. But now I don’t see black. I’ve killed another soul. A soul and a body. The blood I now see is a pure, shining white, with the crimson red of a human’s blood. The white blood has dripped onto the ground in a puddle. I stare into the puddle, and it reflects me. I see what I’ve been longing to see: myself. I’m satisfied with what I’ve done. I can finally see what I truly am. Inside me, I hear a scream. It regrets and hates what it sees. A part of me that still feels. But why? This part of me: it’s weak. I hate this part 0f me. I fall to my knees. Why am I still weak like this? I cough up more blood. I thought that part of me was gone. I’m sitting no longer in a pool of blood: this is a lake. The cold, dead body next to me is drowning in my blood, still being coughed up. I try to hold it back. The pure part of me that is left will not succeed. It cannot and will not. But the blood is still coming up still. I refuse to surrender to such a weak force. For the first time, I release a scream. The scream was piercing, even through the blood flowing out of my mouth. The first scream I’ve ever screamed. Tears leak out of my eyes, burning through my skin, slowly and excruciatingly. This was the first time I had ever felt pain, and it was horrible. Every movement I made only hurt me more. I had given into the weakness. I continued, still, to hack up the blood, all the while screaming. And for the first time, I knew something. That there was still a shred of hope. I knew what my name was. It stabbed through me. In my mind I heard a raging scream. Repeating over and over again, it screeched “Shiro”. Through my migraine and pain, I heard this clear as day, scraping through me with the worst possible noise. I fell even further, from me knees to lying on my side in the pool of blood. Human blood. My blood. Blood of The Fallen. Blood of The Pure. Blood of The Lost.
Whitney Scott: Character Profile
August 19, 2018
Published by ERook
AN: This is a profile of the main character from my “Born Evil” Story. I purposely kept her backstory in Born Evil kind of vague to make it a little bit more mysterious, and also because it wasn’t full developed. But the basics are here!
Full Name: Whitney Elizabeth Scott
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Personal traits: kind, giving, intelligent, creative, shy, quiet
Hair color: Brunette
Eye color: Blue
Backstory: As a quiet teen, Whitney always had it pretty tough. She didn’t have many friends and mostly kept to herself. After her parents died in a fatal accident, she was forced to move in with her aunt from Oregon.
Born Evil: The Final Chapter
August 14, 2018
(updated January 2, 2019)
Published by ERook
It was just one week til school started, and the sixteen year old Whitney was only too eager to get out of the house. She was never horribly uncomfortable around her aunt, but her cousin was a different story. In all the time she had been in Oregon, her cousin did not speak a word to her. Whitney tried to get to know her the best she could, but it was as if the little girl was making an effort to remain distant.
After a long day of chores and a delicious dinner on the back patio looking over the water, Whitney felt it was time to go to bed. She carried her and her aunt’s dishes in from the backyard table as it just began to lightly rain. In the distance there was lightning and Whitney had to make sure the table was all cleaned up before the storm got too close. She gathered the leftover food and the remaining silverware with plenty of time.
Just after the sunset, Whitney bid Lily goodnight and walked up the stairs, passing her little cousin on the landing without a greeting. Her masked cousin looked up at her as she passed, and then continued down the stairs.
Whitney crawled into her small bed, cramped between her dresser and wall, right next to the window. She was tired, but could not help but watching the storm creep up in the window. The lightning got brighter and the thunder louder, but after hours, she managed to cry herself to sleep.
It was about 3 a.m when Whitney was awoken by the loudest crackle of thunder she had ever heard. She sprang up, heart beating out of her chest and sweating. Trying to catch her breath she looked around her room to try spot the clock and see what time it was. The rain was still beating down in one of the biggest storms since her family’s accident.
After a moment, a strike of lightning lit up the room; she saw something, or someone, standing within arm’s reach of her bed. She was terrified, but the next flash of lightning seconds later revealed the figure’s identity. It was a short hooded figure wearing a yellow raincoat, gloves, red rain boots, and a hand drawn mask. Whitney screamed, but under the roar of the thunder, it was hardly audible. “What do you think you’re doing!” Whitney screamed at her cousin. “Well?” she said, “You can give someone a heart attack doing something like that.” Whitney was always respectful of the girl’s silence, but right now, she demanded a response. She grabbed her cousin by the arm as she brought her feet to the floor. “Tell me what you are doing in here!” yelled Whitney again. No response. She pulled her little hooded cousin in and grabbed the mask over her face pulling it off in one fell swoop.
Darkness. Under the mask their was nothing. Pitch black, no face. Just an empty hood. Whitney screamed and began crying. She was terrified and squirmed her way back to the corner of her bed while kicking the faceless hood down to the floor. The moment the raincoat fell to the ground, Whitney jumped back to her feet and ran for the door, still weeping. “LILY!” she screamed “LILY PLEASE HELP ME!” Whitney ran to her Aunt’s bedroom not even thinking to look behind her to see if the faceless girl was following. She got her room and burst through the door to find nothing more than an empty, clean bed with a note on it. She picked it up and read it to herself in a soft voice. “I’m Sorry.” Whitney teared up some more and wiped her face, trying to keep her fear under control.
She ran back out into the main hall and saw her faceless cousin standing at the end of it. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” She yelled as the house was suddenly shaken by a bolt of lightning hitting the main chimney. Whitney fell to her feet and rolled down the stairs, barely dodging the wood from the newly torn hole in the roof. She picked herself up and ran through the kitchen for the exit. At the dinner table, Whitney saw another figure sitting, motionless. “Lily..?” She whispered. She moved closer to her, while watching the stairs for the demonic girl to follow. Their was an empty glass on the table next to her body, along with several spilled pill bottles. Lily had ended her life herself.
Whitney ran for the back door not even able to give much thought to her aunt. She slid open the backyard door and ran down the deck stairs. On the last step, she slipped and fell face down into the packed sand, with a large glass shard stabbing her in the leg. It took her a few seconds to move. She looked up and saw her hooded cousin, wearing the mask again. “WHAT DO YOU WANT!” Screamed Whitney in pain. The masked girl slowly shook her head and took a few steps away. Whitney, immobile, watched as the coated figure picked up a large chunk of bricks from the now fallen chimney, almost the size of her. Her strength was inhuman. The girl walked back over to Whitney, and dangled the bricks over her head. “PLEASE. NO” Whitney said crying. “YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS.” The girl raised it over her own head, preparing to drop it. Whitney quickly grabbed the glass shard from her leg and jumped at the little girl with all her might driving it into her sternum. The rock fell behind her as she tackled the girl.
Black goo began oozing from the raincoat. Whitney looked at the mask one more time before lifting herself up and limping away. She slowly made her way to the front of the house to be greeted by the long, steep staircase that first brought her here. Whitney hobbled down the stairs quickly, not entirely sure of what she did to her cousin or if whatever it was still alive.
As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was able to reach the main road. She waddled to the middle of it and slammed her hands down on the first car that stopped. A man rolled down the window. “Miss, whats wrong?” Whitney could not speak, only cry. The man let himself out of the car and grabbed a blanket from the trunk. He threw it over Whitney, and escorted her to the backseat. The man got back in the driver’s seat and took off. “It’s alright mam. Everything is okay now. Everything is going to be okay.”
