Mentaldecay cerita

In a town too quiet and a house that hums when no one's speaking, a man returns to a life he's been told is his. The journals say he's healing. The therapist said he was ready. The pills have stopped. But the static hasn't. When a forgotten file surfaces, and a name-Raymond Shelton-rattles loose from the past, the voices return. Whispers tucked in margins. Red ink where blue should be. Pages that write themselves. As he dives deeper into Raymond's fractured legacy, guided by torn coordinates and buried confessions, the man begins to question whose memories he carries-and whether the self he trusts is even his at all. Some minds don't break all at once. Some tear thread by thread. This is the story of a descent.

Anger fades, but the story remains. Imagine if the only two people that you trusted, suddenly becomes distant towards one another. For people who have experienced it, it is indeed painful, as you may feel the same, exact pain in this short story that I've written. Anger, frustration, and resilience-all trapped in one story itself.

She escaped control. Now something inside her whispers: let me in. She was searching for healing. What she found was a hollow hunger that whispered her name. After a bitter separation, Elena retreats to a quiet seaside apartment, hoping to rebuild herself. But when an eerily intelligent stray cat appears, her once-quiet days begin to unravel. Her habits shift. Her emotions tangle. Her dreams bleed into waking life. Is it grief? Isolation? Or something darker that crept in through the cracks? As a parasitic presence takes root in her mind, Elena finds herself torn between terror and a rising, exhilarating sense of power. The scariest part of losing yourself... is when it starts to feel good.

He was the type to shrug at ruin. Cold, cocky, careless-his mask was confidence, but beneath it lay only dust and absence. Promises meant nothing. Apologies never came. He moved through others' lives like a storm without aftermath, leaving behind silence, not sorrow. At least, that's what he told himself. But now, something clings to him. A shadow etched in red. A raven, slick and bleeding with memory, has nested on his head-its claws sunk into the rot of everything he pretended not to feel. No one else sees it, but it watches him constantly, whispering truths he spent years ignoring. He doesn't remember the names of those he hurt. But the raven does. And as the walls of his reality melt into guilt-soaked hallucinations, the figure who once stood above it all is forced to reckon with a version of himself even he forgot existed. He is nameless. He is forgotten. But the raven remembers.

This is a growing collection of short, standalone horror stories and poems-each dark, eerie, and designed to leave a mark. I'll be updating regularly, so stay tuned for more. If you enjoy this style, be sure to check out my ongoing psychological horror series, The Warden's Toy. I'd love to hear your thoughts-comments and feedback mean the world. Enjoy (if you dare)!