โ˜น๏ธ๐Ÿ˜ˆ๐Ÿง›๐Ÿ‘ฉโ€โค๏ธโ€๐Ÿ’‹โ€๐Ÿ‘ฉ๐Ÿ”ฉ๐Ÿš๏ธ๐Ÿ›โ˜ ๏ธ

https://discord.gg/gRZYP3Sj german&english fantasy nerd server ๐Ÿช„๐Ÿงš๐Ÿ‰โ‹†ห–โบโ€งโ‚Šหšห–๐“ขึดเป‹๐Ÿƒหš.โ›ฐ๏ธโ‹†โ˜๏ธ

short horror story: i was at my grandma's house, and looked around at her vintage stuff. i wondered about the secrets beneath the house. What could be hiding..? later that night, everyone was sleeping but me. i decided to go and check out the attic to see some old treasures and secrets. when i arrived, i started by looking at the old documents. but there was one document that caught my eye. A miscarriage document from 1982, saying that my grandma originally was supposed to have twins. One was named Amber (my mother,) and the other twin, Angelica, who died for an unknown reason. I got chills down my back that I would see her ghost probably. After looking through the documents, i found some photos of mom as a baby. But I could see a faint, ghost-like baby behind her. like the one standing behind me right now...?!

2 sentence horror: I watched in horror as the virus was cruelly infecting my husband Turning him into a monster.

๐™ฟ๐šŽ๐š˜๐š™๐š•๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŠ๐šข ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š˜๐š›๐š›๐š˜๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š–๐šŠ๐š—๐šข ๐š๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ. ๐™ฟ๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ๐š˜๐š—๐š’๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š˜๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š—-๐š‘๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š—'๐šœ, ๐š™๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ, ๐šŽ๐š๐šŒ. ๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐šž๐š’๐š๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐š—๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ ๐š’๐š—-๐š๐š˜ ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š. ๐™พ๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š›๐šœ๐šŽ, ๐š‘๐š˜๐š›๐š›๐š˜๐š›'๐šœ ๐š–๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šข, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š›๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š™๐šŠ๐š—๐š’๐šŒ ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š”. ๐šƒ๐š›๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š ๐šŠ๐š›๐š—๐š’๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š–๐šŠ๐šข ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š› ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š™๐š•๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š ๐š’๐šœ๐š. ๐™ท๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š™๐šœ: ~๐™ฟ๐š›๐š˜๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š’๐š๐šข. ๐™ฒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ '๐š˜๐š‘ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›' ๐š˜๐š› ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š. ~๐™ถ๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ, ๐šŠ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š’๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šž๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐šŠ๐š›๐šข ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š™๐š‘๐š’๐šŒ ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐šŠ๐š’๐š•. ~๐™ฐ๐š—๐š’๐š–๐šŠ๐š•๐šœ. ๐™ฒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ '๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š ๐š•๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š ๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šœ๐š' ~๐š‚๐šŽ๐š•๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐š–, ๐šŽ๐š๐šŒ. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—, ๐š‘๐š˜๐š ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›, ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š›๐š’๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š. ~๐™ฐ๐š‹๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ (๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šก๐š™๐š•๐š˜๐š’๐š๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—, ๐šŠ๐š›๐š›๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐š›๐š›๐š’๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ) ๐šŠ๐š•๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐š’๐š–๐š™๐š•๐šข ๐šŠ๐š‹๐š๐šž๐šŒ๐š, ๐š™๐š˜๐š’๐šœ๐š˜๐š—, ๐šŽ๐š๐šŒ. ~๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š˜๐š๐šข๐š™๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š™๐šœ (๐š™๐š˜๐š›๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐š’๐š— ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐š›๐š’๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐š›๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ, ๐šŒ๐šž๐š•๐š๐šž๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐šŽ๐š๐šŒ. ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐šœ๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š๐šž๐š•) ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ (๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š’๐šœ๐šŒ๐š›๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—) ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ๐š’๐šŠ๐š• ๐š๐š˜๐š™๐š’๐šŒ๐šœ (๐šŽ๐šก๐šŽ๐šŒ๐šž๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—, ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐š’๐š๐šŽ, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š, ๐šŽ๐š๐šŒ.) ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š๐š•๐šข. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š™๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š’๐šŠ๐š• ๐š๐š˜๐š™๐š’๐šŒ๐šœ (๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—๐š—๐š’๐š‹๐šŠ๐š•, ๐š‹๐šŠ๐š‹๐šข ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š‘, ๐š™๐š˜๐š’๐šœ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ, ๐šŠ๐š™๐š˜๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š•๐šข๐š™๐šœ๐šŽ, ๐šŽ๐š๐šŒ.) ๐š’๐š— ๐šœ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐šข ๐š’๐š—๐šœ๐š˜๐š๐šŠ๐š› ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š’๐š ๐š™๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐š’๐š—๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š™๐š•๐š˜๐š, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š—๐š˜ ๐š๐š•๐š˜๐š›๐š’๐š๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šž๐š–๐šŠ. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐šŠ๐š›๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŸ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šŠ๐š’๐š—, ๐šŸ๐š’๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š–, ๐š˜๐š› ๐š‹๐šข๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›. ๐™ท๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐šž๐š— ๐š ๐š›๐š’๐š๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŽ๐š–๐š˜๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ!

avoid- ~losing animals ~excessive detail ~inaccurate portrayal of certain people ~making fun of groups

People may like horror for many different reasons. Personification of non-human's, perspective, etc. There's some considerate guidelines to take in-to account. Of course, horror's meant to be scary, but not to frightening as to cause panic attack. Trigger warnings may give away the ending or some plot twist. Here are some tips: ~Profanity. Can say like 'oh dear' or something. ~Gore, avoiding unnecessary graphic detail. ~Animals. Can be something like 'the dog growls at presence of ghost' ~Self harm, etc. You can, however, have a character sacrifice oneself. ~Abuse (like exploitation, arranged marriage) although you can imply abduct, poison, etc. ~Stereotyping groups (portraying certain authorities, religions, cultures, etc. as disrespectful) You can use (with discretion) controversial topics (execution, foeticide, the double effect, etc.) lightly. You can mention potential topics (cannibal, baby death, poisons, apocalypse, etc.) in story insofar as it partains to the plot, but no glorifying trauma. You can have the narrator be the villain, victim, or bystander. Have fun writing, and heed your emotions!

short horrorcore story: the clock read 12:07am, way too long from when i was supposed to be in bed. trying to run away from the sock puppet my friend and i thought was innocent, but now a monster. i was trying to hide from "FRED," the creepy puppet now chasing me. and then i couldn't find my friend, brody. "BRODY?!" i called out. "WHERE ARE YOU!?" i checked up in his room he shared with me, and i saw Brody. He was corrupted by that horrible puppet monster. Black ooze was coming out of his mouth and eyes, glitch-like pixels inside them. his head was turning to odd angles, and the glasses he had were broken, but still on him. "B-Brody? What did that monster do to you...?" I asked. And then, my vision went black, glitches inside them, and static screens. "NO! NO! NO!" I cried, trying to fight the corruption. But I couldn't take it anymore, and then I fainted on the floor, black ooze coming out of me.

Tuesday, March 31st, 2015 | I only go shopping at night The cashier swipes my items across the scanner as I stare at the floor. I find it easiest to get through my anxiety by avoiding eye contact with other people. Thatโ€™s why I only go shopping at night fewer people to avoid. โ€œDid you find everything okay?โ€ she asks casually. โ€œMm-hmm,โ€ I mumble to the floor. Her voice sounds nice. Pleasant. Curiosity wins over and I glance up. The cashierโ€™s head is completely caved in on the left side. Probably a car accident. I snap my gaze back down towards the floor. After I pay she gives back my change in a hand so mangled Iโ€™m surprised it can hold anything at all. Thanking her, I grab my bags and turn towards the exit. Immediately I see a man looking through magazines at the store front. The skin on his face and hands is the consistency of a hot dog that fell into a campfire. Burn victim. I rush out the door as fast as I can. In my car I finally catch my breath as I lean my forehead on the steering wheel. Eventually I look up and see my familiar reflection in the rear-view mirror: my head is blown open in the back. Gunshot victim. Why did I ever wish for the power to see how people die? Credit to reddit user resistance1984

๐Ÿ’‰๐Ÿฉ๐Ÿ’€๐Ÿงธ๐Ÿฉน๐ŸŽˆ๐Ÿช“๐Ÿ‘๏ธโ€๐Ÿ—จ๏ธ๐Ÿ˜จ๐Ÿ„๐Ÿ’ฎ๐ŸŽญ๐Ÿš๏ธ๐Ÿ’Š๐ŸŽช๐Ÿ’˜โ˜ฏ

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๐Ÿฉธ๐Ÿฆ‡๐Ÿ“œ๐Ÿ•ธ๏ธ๐Ÿ•ฏ๏ธ

Horror Short Story: The Accident In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done. Written by: Reddit user Minnboy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadnโ€™t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run? Heโ€™d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. โ€œMr. Halverson?โ€ asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. โ€œYes. Let me โ€”โ€I am terribly sorry, but Iโ€™m afraid I have some bad news. Your sonโ€™s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. Iโ€™m very sorry for your loss..."

Avoid~ -profanity -animal loss -stereotyping -ignorance

๐ŸŽธ๐ŸŽง๐Ÿ‘