As a writer, I will go down any dark alley, inch my way through the tightest crawl space, and feed on your every fear. I will take your sense of calm and tear it to...

There are some that even beg for the Chamber,” she could hear Isaar saying in the back of her mind. “Soft minded fools or broken souls that would rather live a fabricated existence than deal...

As Roran watched, the man’s arms, neck, and chest shriveled, and his bones appeared in sharp relief-from the bowlike curve of his collarbones to the hollow saddle of his hips, where his stomach hung like...

Buried and burned. Never find them. Never. Buried and buried.

I could not help feeling that they were evil things– mountains of madness whose farther slopes looked out over some accursed ultimate abyss. That seething , half-luminous cloud-background held ineffable suggestions of a vague, ethereal...

Believe in yourself, Follow your dreams, and all things are possible!

I didn’t want to be the woman who gave herself over willingly to the first man to notice her. I didn’t want to be the stupid girl in every novel who loved without question and...

The dead have existed for as long as the living, give or take a few years. But what good has that done them?

Darkness is a defining characteristic of Rotters. But it’s worthy to remember that darkness is just that—it’s dark—and what is being concealed in the dark is not just the horrible and fearsome, it’s also the...

PG-13 horror, I just don’t watch that.

If the town were a black hole, I was the helpless star being sucked into oblivion. It was an oblivion I craved.

The unknown characters of writing seem to be endowed with an evil of life of their own as though sentient, and fain would wrest themselves forth from the parchment and wreak mischief on whomsoever gazes...

In the deep Mysteries of the world, their belong time, still unexplored and to be explored.

There’s a queer streak in human natures. Men come back to places for secret reasons, for feelings they cannot resist.’More than men come back,” I said.

It’s only after you’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.–Chuck Palahniuk

We lie to protect our children, and in lying we expose them to the greatest of harms

My brothers’ faces haunt me. I hear their children, my nieces and nephews, asking me why I came home without their daddies. I think of their wives, imagine their questions. Our parents, forever seeing the...

The very winds whispered in soothing accents, and maternal Nature bade me weep no more.

Fred Ruskin barreled through the rain down Buchanan Street in his battered Pacer, the jar his dead wife had directed him to retrieve from his nephew’s coffin bouncing in the seat beside him.

…a fissure appeared. Splinters of plastic broke away around it, and the fissure widened, radiating further fractures.When the first leg broke out, Simon tried to shriek.

From “Lady In Waiting” in the anthology The Morgue :Now I have yet to meet the corpse could hold up its end of a conversation, so at most I might whistle while fixin’ one up...

The sight of her made him understand why he’d lost his faith in God.

She gave herself a hard twist and fell into a sitting position, staring at me with those maggot-filled doll’s eyes.

This is Denmark. We are Danes. We keep our distance. We do not pick a seat close to strangers if other seats are available. We do not talk to strangers in the trains.”William Wilson in...

Every small town has at least one house the children whisper about; the type of house that has always been abandoned; where the once pristine white paint has faded to a grimy gray; where the...

Those who did better were those who didn’t wait idly for help to arrive. In the end, with systems crashing and failing, what mattered most and had the greatest immediate effects were the actions and...

I suppose the best way to tell the story is simply to narrate it, without an effort to carry belief. The thing did not require belief. It was not a feeling of horror in one’s...

Alone. Yes, that’s the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn’t hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.

I think a great many people would enjoy doing what I did, and that is why they enjoy books and movies (and even TV shows these days) that feature Torture and Dismemberment, etc., etc., etc.

Those in their snug Bed-chambers may call the Fears of Night meer Bugbears, but their Minds have not pierced into the Horror of the World which others, who are adrift upon it, know.

tiCK TOck TicK tOCk tICK TocK tIcK

Oh, I love you, June, I really do. It’s just that you sounded so…twat-ish just then.

Best-selling horror fiction is indeed necessarily conservative because it must entertain a large number of readers. It’s like network television. I’m your local cable access station.

Everyone knows a Wixen when we smell one. You smell the prettiest, a mixture of strawberries, sex and deceit. Dior should bottle it.

I feel a blood moon rising” Neesa

Self-confidence is usually little more than wishful thinking in a thigh-high pair of Come F*ck Me boots.

This is why it is important never to pick or smell flowers, and to always wear headgear when admiring them.

She grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth tighter against her lips. She wanted to possess and devour him.

But if what interests you are stories of the fantastic, I must warn you that this kind of story demands more art and judgment than is ordinarily imagined.

Kaufman almost smiled at the perfection of its horror. He felt an offer of insanity tickling the base of his skull, tempting him into oblivion, promising a blank indifference to the world.

She wasn’t religious. She didn’t believe in heaven or hell, only in ghosts, Ouija boards, tables which rapped and little inept voices speaking plaintively of flowers

The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas...

Would to Heaven we had never approached them at all, but had run back at top speed out of that blasphemous tunnel with the greasily smooth floors and the degenerate murals aping and mocking the...

Hello, Kanta. They’re saying interesting things about you on the news,” she said. “I wondered if you’d survived.””He didn’t,” I said. “I killed him.”Silence.”I killed Mkhai, too,” I said. “Tens of thousands of years, gone...

As McMasters raised the shotgun, the man removed his glasses. There were fields of stars where his eyes should have been. But they weren’t reflections of the night sky. These stars were a glimpse of...

The result is … that there’s no room left in the world for the weird – though plenty for crude, contemptuous, wisecracking, fun-poking imitations of it.

In one picture, the pool was half hidden by a fringe of mace- weeds, and the dead willow was leaning across it at a prone, despondent angle, as if mysteriously arrested in its fall towards...

They’ve made her something else now.

The tales of pure terror, of course, are completely naturalistic in their content, and must stand or fall by their merit alone. But what about the supernatural stories? Can we, the children of a scientific...

Black vomit came gushing out Samantha’s mouth, adding to the puddle already on the floor. Samantha was covered in a sheen of sweat, crouched on all fours on the wooden hallway floor, like an animal....