#terror

271 posts
  • czarcasm 7w

    Terrors of the night

    The feeling came, a moment of happiness paused in a sliver of time
    And they wished they could save it, capture some of that light to cherish
    But as quick as it came it went
    Leaving them in complete darkness
    And that was when true fear settled in
    For the dark is the monsters friend

    They made no noise as they stood there, taking in the noise of the dark
    Waiting to sense any movement
    Their hair on their forearms stood up
    And they could feel someone, something watching them
    Blood pounding in ears they stood fast
    Hoping it was only nerves
    As the wretched feeling settled in their gut

    They were being stalked by the night
    A scraping sound filled the air to their right
    And they winced, stopping themselves from running
    'It was nothing, absolutely nothing'
    Yet the noise after that thought countered it

    Something was out there, and there was nothing they could do about it
    For they found they couldn't move
    Something was holding their feet into place, making them stay
    To attest to the horrors in the night

    An unearthly roar filled the air and they shook
    Skin covered in goosebumps, their breath caught
    Was this the end?
    And there, before they could blink, the demon ran out at them
    ©czarcasm

  • shivani23 9w

    Terror and terrorism

    Terror bleeds
    In the eyes
    Of a child
    Who lost
    His mother
    To a bomb
    That blew
    In streets
    Where he
    Would ride
    His tricycle.
    He hates now.
    The street.
    The tricycle.
    His innocence
    Blew up
    With his mother.
    Terror bleeds
    In the eyes
    Of a child.
    I am peace.
    With his childhood,
    With his mother
    I too die.
    ©shivani23

  • anushka_chakraborty 10w

    The city of dead

    The crooked walls tell stories of old love tales
    When Afra sneaked out of the manor
    to meet Ubaid
    At the backside of the town,
    away from the chaos of the city.

    To have a final encounter with Ubaid
    For the city was becoming dreaded
    With wails of innocent creatures and gun powder
    Assorted in the air

    The place which once sung aajan and lullabies
    Are echoing with horror and dejection

    The huts which was built with love and hope
    Are burning in flames

    The homebrew clay pots are lying on the streets
    Which once smelled of Mewa and khurma now
    Stinking with dried blood sheds and rotten dreams

    For women who regained power
    Are undermined and are assaulted as any other mere objects
    A last encounter with the love of her life
    Might change her life

    For kabul no more smelled like itar of crushed rose neither ammi jaan ki sewai
    Rather stinking with cigar and black powder and lost battles.

    For there were no necklet to wear but
    hawsers to put around as jewels and get away
    from the miseries of life.

    The city no longer shrieks with exhilaration
    For now the city is dead.

    1970 was not a year to be celebrated
    But a year to be mourned for.

    @anushka_chakraborty

    What will you do if your biggest nightmare comes to life? Taliban's are back again and there's explosion and compulsive behaviour everywhere. Innocent childrens and womens are getting harassed.Prayers to the the people suffering out there for their each and every second is full of terror.

    #city #terror #1970 #Talibans @miraquill @mirakeeworld
    @writersnetwork

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    The city of dead

    ©anushka_chakraborty

  • sonu99 16w

    An Empty Cage

    A cage that is empty,
    Seems to be good and pretty.
    But within the bars of the cage,
    A sense of fear and sorrow lays.
    The mind filled with agony and terror,
    The cage seems to be a prison of horror.
    ©sonu99

  • santhianandan 16w

    "The opened door"

    Something was strange today. The cold breeze brushing past my face numbed my senses and the smell of an distant lover unsettled my inner storm. The floor beneath my feet seemed chill making my feet numb and me immobile. Fear caused butterflies to fly in my stomach drying my throat out. My hand unconsciously reached out for my small waterbottle nearby my bedside just right enough to wet my throat.. Eyes fixated on the T.V screen I was watching an horrer movie when the front door opened suddenly with a creak sound. Should oil it tomorrow, my mind instructed me. Suddenly I remembered, hey I had closed all the doors and windows carefully and even my bedroom door before starting to watch the movie. Now the front door was widely open and me all alone in the house.. I felt like someone embracing me tightly but saw noone. Awww... I started to shout at the top of my voice forgetting that there were no neighbours nearby our house yet called out aloud for help. HELP......HELP..... I yelled. The front door closed silently now. Me, terrified bathed in sweat speechless staring at the closed door until next morning when the calling bell rang and my parents entered the house unlocking the door with their key! How did the door open and close all by itself? What was that sudden feel of embrace? Who was that? No answers to any of my questions my mind aroused. Mystified I dare not until now stay alone anywhere. The opened door had shut down my courage forever!
    ©santhianandan

  • scaredycat 19w

    Unliving

    I can still feel what it's like
    to have your hands
    gripped around my neck
    And I'm sorry
    If I seem confused
    At how you can apologize and expect
    That i would have it in me
    to forgive and forget
    what you've done,
    You robbed me
    of what made me myself,
    You lied to me so much
    That i can never trust no on else
    when I dig deep down inside
    I hear my finger tips scratching the bottom,
    scratches that echo
    let me know what you did
    can't be undone.
    Everytime youd hit me
    a piece of who I was disappeared
    You beat that piece out of me
    and in its place you left fear
    You go to bed at night
    And wake up each day
    to something shiny and something new
    I stay up all night
    reliving getting my ass beat by you.
    When a person says they love you
    you don't expect
    That love to leave you bruised
    But then again
    I also didn't expect to see you grin
    as you told me you win this round again
    And I loose
    I found out,
    Years after we split
    The no matter how long I sit
    and try to remove the parts of you
    that are embedded in my skin
    And in my brain
    and in my soul
    That nothing
    I do will rid me
    from the terror you caused me
    it's too late
    it's already taking its toll.
    So yet again
    you go on living
    as if any or all of this
    had never taken place
    And I go on unliving
    worried that one day
    In some crowd
    I'll run across your face.
    ©scaredycat

  • ecstaticbloom 21w

    Fear.

    One word.
    The silent scream.
    The unheard plea.
    The unhinged mind.
    The cautious life.
    The scary dream.
    The loud protest.
    The echo of denial.
    The change of thoughts.
    The frozen future.
    The unforgettable past.
    The imprinted pain.
    The phantom tremors.
    The cause?
    We've all felt it.
    One word.
    Fear.
    ©ecstaticbloom

  • bulderme 22w

    Dreams do come true. #scary #horror #terror

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    "Hush, She is Coming"

    I heard my name get called downstairs in the basement; it was probably my mom calling me for help. I get up after hours of programming and walk to the basement door. I open it, but out of my peripheral vision, I see my mom sitting on the sofa. The door swings open and out comes a distorted version of my mom. I freaked out and ran upstairs to my room. My mom followed behind me and locked the door. I started to panic almost as soon as I stepped foot in my room. "Hush, she is coming" my mom whispered. Three knocks rang through the door. "Knock, knock, it's time to play" the fraud said behind the door. My mom and I hid in the closet and she started calling the police. The fraud heard the dialing sound and got irked. It started to slam on the door at this point and my mom hid me behind the clothes.

    Silence rang through the room.

    The door opened slowly.

    We heard thumps behind our closet door.

    The closet door slowly opened and peeked in a face that resembled my mom. Its face was all messed up though. An arm swung in and took my real mom out. The fraudulent mother started to pound my real mom's face into the floor. Her face started looking like busted glass. It was a bloody mess and I cried in shock as the fraud looked around the room for me.

    "Alright then, let's play hide and seek" the fraud said. It left the room. I was scared by the sight of my dead mom on the floor. I grabbed the phone, but it was busted up. I tried to open the window, but it was locked from the outside. I sat in the room for minutes until the fraud re-entered the room. "Ok sweetie, I give up, come on out." The fraud called out.

    I didn't do anything. The fraud got impatient and started throwing furniture around. I scratched my hand on a loose nail and gasped. The fraud stoped in place like a paused video. It turned its head slowly towards my direction. It crawled to the closet and shifted clothes around. I busted out and stabbed the fraud with the loose nail. The fraud screeched a never heard before screech. I ran for my life.

    "Okay, if you want to play rough, let's play rough" the fraud giggled. The fraud shifted into this twisted creature that I couldn't describe. All I knew was that its eyes were out of its sockets. Its arms stretched trying to reach for me. I locked myself in the bathroom. The power went out and it was pitch black. All that was left was a burning candle.

    My doberman barked at the door; I couldn't leave it out there with that thing, so I let it in. The doberman sat at the end of the bathroom and started smiling. It then started laughing and then stretched its limbs to form the fraud once again.

    "Come here, we need to talk" the fraud yelled. I couldn't get the door to budge. The fraud approached me and picked me up by my neck. The window to the bathroom shot open and I was dragged out. I was dragged down the streets and into the woods. "Lovely night, isn't it?" The fraud asked and hung me up on a tree. Hooks were going through my arms and I couldn't move due to the sheering pain. All I could do was scream. "Let's see how the bears like you.." the fraud laughed. The fraud smiled to extreme measures, it stretched across its face. The fraud floated and flew into the woods. I couldn't see a thing and I heard howling. I can't do this anymore. I think I might as well die.

    I remained silent for the night. I heard laughs, maybe it all in my head?

    I suddenly woke up from my bed; I was sweating. It was all a dream. My mom walked in. "Good morning," she said "lovely day isn't it?". I started to have flashbacks on what happened in my dreams. Mom smiled, she smiled to extreme measures. Her smile stretched across her face.

    Fraudulent mother wants to play again.


    ©bulderme

  • bulderme 22w

    He Wears a Suit and Tie

    The man,
    He likes his suit and tie.
    He can't make it through the day,
    Without his suit and tie.
    People grow curious;
    He wears his suit and tie everywhere.
    We ask why, but he goes off topic.
    He gets mad when his suit is touched.
    He acts the same normally, no emotions;
    It bothers me.
    He killed a man once,
    The victim had a tie cut on his torso.
    The man was arrested,
    But still wore his suit and tie.
    Guards put him in a jump suit.
    He didn't like it at all.
    They're all dead now;
    He didn't accept his jump suit.
    He grows mad.
    He doesn't like to talk,
    He only listens for compliments.
    I'm scared;
    I called him an odd person.
    What if he grows mad?
    He might come for me.
    Later,
    He arrives,
    In his suit and tie.
    ©bulderme

  • yashvibansal 23w

    Masks. They've risen to prominence nowadays. The Covid-19 pandemic saw to that. But masks were always around, way before the disaster that was 2020, and the nightmare that is 2021. "I know,"you'll say. "The Spanish flu had people wearing masks. What's new in that?"
    There's nothing new. Except for the fact that masks materialize during a pandemic (or epidemic, for that matter). They're still around when no menacing threat is around. They're something worn by everyone, except children. (If children wear masks, they don't really realise it, just as the very young are bewildered about the pandemic).
    Masks always cover the soul. Severus Snape, the great character who gave us that choking,"Always," always wore a mask. In fact, he wore so many masks that we're still debating whether he was a hero or a villain, a redeemed devil or a fallen angel, thus terming him a gray character.
    The Covid 19 pandemic has people wearing double, triple masks, something everyone hates. But the truth? Everyone has for eternity covered their soul, in uncountable layers.
    The life of the party masks their loneliness under their ever chattering demeanor.
    The quietest person actually has the most to say, but they mask that, choosing to let awkward silences fill the air.
    The most serious person is actually the happiest and silliest, but alas! They have a reputation to maintain.
    So that's the way we live our lives, haunted and hidden. And in the pandemic, we complain about wearing masks, conveniently forgetting the black veils hiding our soul,just as the skull hides the brain.
    ©yashvibansal
    14 May 2021

    I decided to use both meanings of mask.

    #mask #wod #mirakee #writersnetwork #pandemic #lockdown #covid #covid19 #coronavirus #corona #terror #villain #history #soul

    @mirakee
    @writersnetwork

    Image credit to Pixabay.

    Thank you so much @writersnetwork for the repost. You are the best!��

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    Mask

    Masks always cover the soul...
    ©yashvibansal

  • mystery_in_words 24w

    Atop the highest ledge of my building
    Staring down at the deserted streets,
    Streetlights shining spotlights onto none
    A bright insect buzzing under the light
    "Doesn't he ever go blind?", I wonder
    A smooth rustle of palm leaves overhead
    Sliding the spotlight away from him.

    I'm staring down, the spectator of a game
    A blare from an ambulance disrupts the quiet
    As if remotely controlled from the clouds.
    "A brilliant move to startle me!", I think
    While the game levels up to a nightmare
    In the blink of an eye, people will walk the streets,
    Masked and terrified, grieving and dying.

    ©Deepika
    #207
    09/05/21 - 00.45

  • darkness_of_the_sky 33w

    8th March 2021

    How does one begin to heal,
    What does self love entail.
    So much burning passion and desire,
    All crushed and left empty.

    In my eyes you will find no sentimentality.
    In my Heart you will find no Life.
    With pain comes death, and I have been dying forever.

    Close my eyes, let me rest.
    Let me open with eyes that see no colour.
    With ears that hear no laugher,
    With a heart that loves no longer.

    ©darkness_of_the_sky

  • khwahishaan 36w

    भारत माँ के लाल तूने फ़र्ज़ अपना अदा किया
    जान हथेली पर लेकर दुश्मन का चीर सीना दिया ।
    देश को ये कर्ज़ देकर गहरी नींद सो गए
    फिर से वीर भारत माँ के शहीद हो गए ।

    बलिदान तुम्हारा ये देश कभी न भूल पायेगा
    याद करेगा तुमको और वंदे मातरम् गायेगा ।
    देश में तुम एक नई ऊर्जा का बीज बो गए
    फिर से वीर भारत माँ के शहीद हो गए ।

    आंखे अभी भी दरवाजे पर राह तक रही होगी
    वो माँ बेटे की प्रतीक्षा में राते जग रही होगी
    उस माँ को अब ये कौन जाकर समझायेगा
    तू सो जा माँ तेरा लाल लौट कर नही आएगा ।

    एक नया इतिहास लिखकर सन्नाटे में खो गए
    फिर से वीर भारत माँ के शहीद हो गए ।
    ©चिंतन जैन

    #pulwama #pulwamaterrorattack #mirakeeworld #mirakeeindia #mirakee #rekhta #police #terror #attack #kashmir #sad #tweeter #fb #khwahishaan

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    ..

  • yashvibansal 39w

    THE NEW VILLAIN
    I echo slowly
    I repeat things when I can't remember them.
    Like History.
    There's power, there's prestige
    But I have forgotten that there's pride, and tyranny, and an ultimate downfall.
    And since I have forgotten these crucial parts,
    I take the class again,
    This time with me being the central character
    Rather than Robespierre or Hitler.
    They were only one
    I am many
    They were glib speakers
    And I a silent screamer.
    They ruled humans
    I ride them.
    But there's a similarity too
    We believe ourselves to be unlikely heroes
    Despite appearing as villains through and through.
    COPYRIGHT YASHVI BANSAL
    27 January 2021

    This is the perspective of the new villain,
    Covid 19.


    #covid #covid19 #coronavirus #corona #terror #villain #history #pandemic #lockdown #power #prestige #pride #tyranny #downfall #center #character #control #fear #human #scream #speaker #hero #unlikely #free #wod
    #fear #wod
    Image credit to rightful owner. I picked it up from Google.

    @writersnetwork

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    The New Villain

    (Read Caption)
    ©yashvibansal

  • sepia_scrawls 46w

    Fear

    How well can I define you, O my malice?
    By those shivers you sent down my spine
    or the silent tears that trailed off my eyes.
    I'm clueless, with thoughts that make me whine!

    Where did you emanate from?
    And what it is that you require?
    You ruined my delight of exploring deep waters
    and positioned me in an ugly quagmire.

    Am I to duel you till my last breath?
    Redemption from you, the only boon I seek!
    My heart longs for that victorious olive wreath,
    as these recurring dreams just make me sick.

    Why did He ensure your presence?
    You being a prominent emotional essence.
    Someday I will slay you with a sword
    and soar high triumphantly like a free bird!

    ©sepia_scrawls

  • rhythm_of_the_heart 49w

    Do support with reposts and constructive criticisms. Thank you ♥️


    One second alive,
    A steaming cup of tea
    In front of my eyes.
    I sat around my friends,
    Talking, laughing, sharing,
    Stewing our intellects.
    Much like the tea leaves,
    Engulfed by simmering water.

    One second awed,
    A bang, a scream and a crash.
    Blood and tea on the floor.
    More explosions in my ear,
    Bullets blaring and men roaring,
    An ode to Death and Fear.
    And like tea leaves in water,
    I shrank - aghast and pale.

    One second suffering,
    A hellish eternity perceived,
    Pain and boiling tea seared my being.
    Never knew when I hit the ground,
    Only fear permeated my soul,
    Bodies strewn all around.
    Like tea leaves reddening water,
    Blood reddened the floor.

    One second dead,
    A blackness coating my senses,
    Heart and teapot alike - they bled.
    Death for a sip of tea. Why?
    My mind grasped for comprehension,
    And lips parted with a cry.
    The flame flickered and went out,
    Blood and tea on the floor.


    ©rhythm_of_the_heart




    I don't know what made me write this. Was just reminded of the 26/11 attacks - maybe I got emotional? Anyway, just a rendition. And my prayers and condolences to all those affected.
    #tea #death #terrorism #26/11 #prayers #life #terror #mirakee #writerstolli #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #mumbai #oberoi #taj #life #thoughts #poetry #nature

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    Tea on the Floor

    ©rhythm_of_the_heart

  • normancrane 51w

    Seedhead

    Even among my more troubled patients, Richter was unique. The level to which he was disturbed without any known cause or stimulus was unprecedented, and so I considered him my prized patient, the broken mind upon which I would sail to psychological stardom. This was even before I personally witnessed him bloom and unseed.

    The primary cause of Richter's psychosis was nightmares. He experienced them constantly, cyclically and, when they reached their inevitable crescendo, with such completeness that to describe them as his counter-reality would be an injustice to his terror. They were hyper-reality, more real than the everyday world for you or I.

    Each nightmare gripped him for weeks, first whenever he slept but soon creeping into his waking life, so that he had no respite. Indeed, the nightmares gained power over time, adapting to his emotions and evolving to maximize their own atrocity, until they attained peak horror and released him, never to return.

    Sometimes a few peaceful days would subsequently pass, but even those were stained with the dread of a new nightmare to come.

    However, it is this act of peaking, which I shall in my professional capacity call the bloom, and which I first witnessed two months ago, that has shaken me to the core, not only as a psychologist but as a human being.

    I witnessed the following through a secret window in a clinical room mocked up to resemble Richter's bedchamber:

    After suffering several hours of unrelenting mental anguish manifesting itself almost grotesquely in the physical realm as perspiration, tremors, self-mutilation and incomprehensible muttering, Richter falls suddenly to sleep.

    The slumber, which to my observations appears deep, lasts two hours and thirty-four minutes.

    It ends abruptly as Richter leaps to his feet, tears off his clothing, digs his nails into the top of his scalp, and proceeds, in much the same brutal manner, to tear the skin off his skull.

    His screams are unbearable, although it is unclear whether they are the result of mental pain or the physical pain of his auto-deskinning.

    Once his skull is exposed, he proceeds to tear the skin off his face, which, in the most unbelievable way resembles less human bone and musculature than the petals of a bloody dandelion.

    No longer veiled by skin, this face-flower achieves a gloriously yellow colour and blooms before my eyes!

    One madness of flora and fauna!

    But swiftly, as the screams intensify, the flower begins to wilt, the hanging veils of skin climb his face, enclosing it—

    Before bursting forth to reveal a spherical seed head.

    As a wind of screams rages within the chamber, breaking the blowball and dispersing its multitude of nightmare seeds, reality ripples.

    Finally the wind subsists, silence returns, and Richter stands: an immobile, headless body.

    The veils of skin form an orb above his neck, he falls, and when he awakens in the morning his head has been biologically re-created. His memories of the entire incident are faint, fading…

    The entire process leaves no visible scars and no physical evidence.

    Thus my hypothesis: Richter is not only man, but an organic manifestation of the nightmare impulse, a sentient host for a parasitic nightmare laboratory whose creations are perfected in his mind before being disseminated into humanity at large. The nightmares we experience, often dulled as if through a fog, Richter has already experienced countless times at an impossible clarity.

    Whether he is the only one of his kind I cannot say.

    In the coming weeks, I must complete my written study and submit it for peer review. I predict it will revolutionize the field of psychology, the understanding of the mind and introduce finally the notion of horror as a living entity: an incubus among us.

  • dancingbarefoot1971 52w

    violence

    it’s not always bloody.
    it’s not always bruises.

    it’s not always a crash.
    it’s not always a scream.

    it’s not always
    threatening
    curse
    words.
    I have experienced the most
    violent of acts.

    the ones that caused the most harm were the ones cloaked in
    deceitful and dangerous,
    abrupt and unexpected

    words and actions.

    Body Blocking and Abduction. .

    illegal court reporting

    Violence.

  • rhythm_of_the_heart 52w

    Do support with reposts and constructive criticisms. Thank you ♥️


    Yesterday, I walked these roads
    Amidst the chilly morning breeze
    The ground draped in dew
    Consoling my tired blistered feet.

    And the fog lifted,
    Presenting before me a vista
    Of laughter and love.
    Raindrops fell softly on me,
    Petals from the heavens above.
    All around, there were people
    Friends, family, lovers, workers,
    Walking and chattering along the way.
    As the fog lifted,
    I smiled and savoured the day.

    Today, I walk the roads again.
    This time, drenched in fear.
    The ground, with streams of blood,
    There was an explosion here.

    And the smoke lifted,
    Forcing my eyes on a grave
    Of murder and loss.
    My tears fall hard on me,
    Is this all a life costs?
    All around, there are people,
    Those friends, family, lovers & workers,
    Strewn everywhere on the streets.
    As the smoke lifted,
    I walk alone, as the Soul Reaper reaps.


    ©rhythm_of_the_heart




    A little painful, but this is what I felt. How destructive we can be. The aftermath of terror is just eternal pain. #fog #mirakee #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #writerstolli #pain #suffering #death #life #diary #thoughts #love #poetry #inspiration #smoke #terror

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    The Fog Lifted

    ©rhythm_of_the_heart

  • jadeivy 55w

    Body

    Do you feel her?
    The body inside your soul.
    The girl who wants control.
    The presence of an unknown.
    Not one of your own.

    These thoughts from another mind.
    Cozy yet dangerous.
    Gentle and mysterious.
    Dark but polite.
    How can one stop this tormenting delight?

    Never mad,
    but always sad. She steals your heart tonight. Making you have terrors where there
    Used to be dreams.
    Scream!
    Feel her squirm to her hole.

    ©jadeivy