A Horror Treat for Horror Fans

Hello readers,

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Now, onto my next project, a horror series called Sanctifiction. Below you will find an excerpt from my latest work in progress and my first attempt at writing horror fiction.


Do not be alarmed dear reader,

The corpses have awakened in their graves, possessed by the souls of the damned. They crawl and moan hungry for your flesh as night falls across the land. I am your only lantern in the dark, the guide on your journey through the horror.

I will keep you safe if you follow my every word and stay close to my side.

You must tread carefully. These texts were cursed by the demonic souls desperate to control your being. Respect the danger these creatures possess or you may lose your sanity, or even your soul. These are tales destined to frighten you, for they are after all, just a tale.

But remember these words before we begin. Lock your doors, check your windows, and don’t . . . turn off . . . the lights.

Welcome to SanctiFiction.

Creepy face in dirt

“Tell me more about the shadow you saw in the basement.”

 The young man stared into the hardwood floor with his eyes lost in another world where the trees mumbled in Latin and the angelic stone statues mysteriously disappeared from their cemeteries. The boy was cursed by something otherworldly, something evil.

“It was the weirdest night of my life . . .”

His name was Danny Moreno. He hailed from a town in the suburbs less than five miles away from the city capital and twelve miles from picturesque farmland. He studied communications at his local community college and lived with his mother, father, and brother. I was working another late shift at the office when he knocked on my door. I found it unusual because most of my clients usually contacted me through email or my website, not in-person meetings. When I opened the door, he was soaking wet even though it hadn’t rained.

He told me something strange had happened, and he seemed very confused and disoriented. I asked him to sit down and when he walked past me, he smelled . . . strange. Not an awful smell like body odor but more of a, I suppose, a metallic smell, like copper or steel. People come to me for my ghost hunting services. On the internet, people know me as Detective Scott Barnes ghost hunter extraordinaire. I started this occupation to investigate the disappearance of my wife who I’ve been told never existed. Either I am developing a mental disorder, or something otherworldly is affecting my life.

I offer my services to people who suspect signs of a haunting. Sometimes I’m even called to assist couples who want to purchase a new home but are suspicious of the low cost in a nice neighborhood. Most of the time, I end up disproving any signs of the afterlife. But then there are times where I can’t explain what’s happened or why. Then there are other times where I’ve spoken to the face of death and never even knew until I found their name in an obituary. I investigate all hauntings and record my exploits to share with my thousands of followers.

Anyway, back to Danny.

He said the phenomenon began on a late rainy night at around eleven-thirty pm. He sat down at his computer to play video games with his friends online. Right as he was about to get comfortable, the phone rang. It’s his girlfriend Kristina.

“Hey, what are you doing up? I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

She sounded frantic over the phone as if she were being chased by someone. He tried to listen to what she was saying but her words kept getting interrupted by static and other voices in the background. But the voices didn’t sound as if they were in the same room as her, they sounded as though it was another phone call being interjected into theirs. He covered his left ear and tried to tell Kristina to slow down, but as he did the volume on his computer suddenly went to max. A random advertisement played on his computer while his friends teased him about being unable to play. “Here we go. Now we’re going to be late because Danny’s on the phone.”

Danny immediately twisted the volume knob to zero and apologized to his girlfriend. “I’m sorry. For some reason the volume turned up to max. Can you repeat what you said?”

As she started speaking the livingroom TV blared at the highest volume possible. He stormed out of his room and yelled at his parents who were reclined side by side on the couch. “Can you please turn that down? I’m on the phone.”


“Can you turn down the TV?”

“We don’t have the remote.”

“Then how did—nevermind. Where is the remote?”

They pointed to the couch beside him on the armrest. He grabbed the remote and turned the volume down to five, then threw the remote over to his parents. “I’m sorry, my parents turned up the TV for some reason. What were you saying?”

As she spoke again, the air conditioner turned itself up to full blast. The growl from the machine made it impossible to hear her voice. “Are you kidding me?” He turned the dial of the air conditioner to off and all it did was make the machine grow even louder and more forceful. Every turn of the dial kept making it increase more and more until it blew the blankets and pillows off his bed. He unplugged the air conditioner from the wall.

And it refused to shut off.

“What . . . the . . .”

Kristina, his girlfriend, entered the room. He looked at her with the plug still in his hand, the air conditioner blowing a mini tornado inside his room.

“What are you doing,” she said.

“I was trying to turn this off. When did you get here?”

“Danny, you have to help me.”

“Hold on.”

He walked past her and went into the living room where his parents were. “Hey, can you see if the TV turns off?”

“Why?” His father said.

“Because my air conditioner isn’t turning off.”

His father lifted the remote and pressed the power button. The TV did not turn off.

“That’s weird.”

Kristina stood beside him. “Are the batteries dead?”

“No, I just turned down the volume a few minutes ago. They couldn’t have died that quickly.”

“That’s weird,” she said.

He walked to the basement door and opened it.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to try the circuit breaker.”

“I don’t want to go down there.”

“Why? We’ve been down the basement a million times.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Then stay up here with my parents. I won’t be long.”

“I don’t want to be by myself.”

“But you’re going to be with my parents.”

She shook her head no. “Something happened at my house. I was going into the closet picking out what I was going to wear tomorrow, and it felt like someone punched me in the back, but when I turned around no one was there. I thought it was my mom but when I went into her bedroom, she was asleep. That’s when I called you.”

“That’s creepy,” he said. “I want to hear more of your story, but I need to check this power thing first.”

“Fine.” She took his hand into hers. “But I want to stay close to you.”

End . . . for now.

Sanctifiction is a project I’ve had on my mind for several years and am finally getting around to writing. It’s honestly refreshing to write something that is not Silver Ninja. I hope I can deliver on stories that will chill you to the bone. Or at least make you wonder whether you should leave the light on or not.

More to come in the future.

Skull buried in earth

Wilmar Luna

Wilmar Luna

Couldn't be a superhero in real life so he decided to write his own. When he's not creating empowered female characters he can be found watching films, reading books, and playing lots of video games. Buy his books here: https://www.thesilverninja.com/purchase/