Random Horror Stories - 500

The cold air hit Daniel as he stepped out of the building. The world outside was damp, a dense fog clung to the streetlights, turning the city into a collection of faint shapes, fractured and soft. He had worked late, just like every night before, but tonight felt different. His legs were heavy, his mind sluggish. He barely noticed the car coming around the corner until it was too late.

The crash was brief. One moment he was standing on the sidewalk, and the next, he was flying through the air. He felt his body twist in unnatural ways, heard the sickening snap of his ribs, and then nothing.

For a moment, he thought he was floating. He had no awareness of where he was, or even who he was. The world seemed to stretch out in strange ways, and there was a thick, dark void that threatened to consume him. But it didn't. Instead, there was something else. A feeling. A pull. A heat. Like the faint glow of embers in the dark.

It started in his chest, a warmth that spread. Slow at first, but unmistakable. It was a fire, not a real one, not one that could burn his skin, but it crawled through his veins like a slow sickness. He tried to focus on it, but the sensation was too intense, too consuming.

He couldn't see anything. His eyes were open, but there was no light, no shapes, no colors. Only the heat. Only the fire.

It was... inside him.

Daniel's mind snapped back to his body. The fog. The streetlights. He could hear the quiet hum of the city around him. He couldn't see them, but he knew they were there—people. Not watching. Not caring. His hands twitched, and then his legs moved, pulling him into a sitting position. It was strange, like his body didn't belong to him, like it was a puppet on strings, moving against his will.

There was something wrong. Something deep in his chest. The embers. They pulsed, a steady beat in the center of him, sending waves of heat through his limbs. He could feel it in his throat, his stomach, his fingers, his toes. It was inside, but not inside. He couldn't escape it.

Daniel tried to speak, but the words didn't form. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. His head pounded. He had to get up, he had to move, but his body wouldn't listen. The fire—those embers—kept pulling at him, sinking deeper, wrapping around his thoughts, spreading like smoke through his consciousness.

And then he heard it.

The voices. Or rather, the sensation of voices, like a thousand whispers against his skin, soft and distant. He tried to focus, tried to push them away, but they came closer, their rhythm syncing with the pulsing in his chest. They were so loud, and yet they were nothing more than a hum. A dull ache in his skull.

No, he thought, shaking his head. No. He wouldn't let it take him.

But he couldn't stop it. The heat inside him only grew stronger. His body jerked, his fingers clawing at his chest. His mouth opened wide, but no scream came out. He could feel it, the embers crawling under his skin, burning him from the inside.

A figure appeared. At first, it was just a shadow, a vague outline in the fog. But then it took form, a tall man with pale skin, black eyes, and a mouth that never moved, but Daniel could feel it speaking. He knew it wasn't real. But it was, and the fire knew it too. The embers inside him shifted, moving faster, more violently now.

The figure took a step forward, and Daniel's chest burned with a force he couldn't comprehend. He was choking on the heat, gasping for air that wasn't there. His eyes were wide, and he could feel the darkness pushing in at the edges of his vision, but the fire inside him refused to let go.

"Do you feel it?" the figure asked, its voice not a voice but a presence that flooded his mind.

Daniel couldn't respond. The embers had stolen his voice, stolen his mind. All that was left was the heat, the burn that grew and expanded, consuming him in a way that had nothing to do with fire or flame.

"It's inside," the figure continued, its presence like a weight on his chest. "It's always been inside. You just didn't know it. But now… now it's awake."

The pain. The fire. His body was shaking, his muscles tight with the need to move, to escape, but he couldn't. He felt his limbs go stiff, his fingers twisting into unnatural positions as the embers inside him grew hotter, faster, unbearable. He opened his mouth again, but no sound came. He couldn't even scream.

"Do you see it?" the figure asked. "The fire? It burns for you, Daniel. It always has. It never dies."

The words rang in his mind, like a truth he couldn't escape. The fire. The embers. He had felt it for as long as he could remember, a quiet hum in the background of his thoughts, a flicker he could never quite reach. It had always been there, waiting for the right moment to consume him.

It had chosen now.

Daniel could feel the heat in his head, the fire eating away at his thoughts, until he wasn't sure who he was anymore. His mind had become a collection of fragments, shards of memories and feelings that he couldn't grasp. His body trembled, and the embers inside him raged, faster, fiercer, until he felt as though his skin might peel off his bones.

The figure stepped closer, its black eyes glistening with something... something sad. "It's time," it said softly. "The end is here."

Daniel wanted to cry out. He wanted to scream, to beg for mercy, but the embers were inside him now, and all that came from his mouth was a strangled gasp, as if the fire had claimed even that.

He was nothing but the embers now. The figure had no face, no name. It wasn't real, but it didn't matter. The fire—the embers—had taken him. Had taken everything. There was nothing left.

The city around him began to blur. The streetlights flickered. The fog thickened. Daniel couldn't remember why he was standing. He couldn't remember anything. Only the heat. Only the burn.

The figure stretched out its hand, and Daniel reached for it, not knowing why, but somehow understanding that this was the last step. The end. His mind was a haze, every thought fading into the embers that still smoldered inside him.

And then, without warning, the figure was gone. The fire was gone. The heat, the burn, it all vanished in an instant.

But the embers—they stayed. Deep inside him. Always.

Daniel's body crumpled to the ground. His chest still rose and fell with shallow breaths, but his eyes were glassy, unseeing. The last traces of the fire were locked inside him, a heat that would never die. The world was silent.

And somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, he felt the embers flicker. A slow, steady burn. Waiting.