Terror in the Shadows vol. 11: Terror in the Shadows Anthology
Terror in the Shadows vol. 11: Terror in the Shadows Anthology
Terror in the Shadows vol. 11: Terror in the Shadows Anthology
Terror in the Shadows vol. 11: Terror in the Shadows Anthology

Terror in the Shadows vol. 11: Terror in the Shadows Anthology

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Terror traps you in a web of nightmares…

A filmmaker investigates the suicide of a high school bully, and unearths a shadowy tormentor from the past. A strange voice plagues an unfortunate patient, when a simple medical procedure goes horribly wrong. And nature strikes back, when an environmental crime unleashes hordes of hungry amphibians…

Scare Street is proud to present thirteen tales of supernatural horror in one volume, guaranteed to make your skin crawl. This bone-chilling collection awaits, luring readers of the macabre deeper into the shadows.

As you devour each new tale of terror, you feel something brushing against your skin. Strands of webbing, light as a feather, but stronger than steel. The sticky phantom threads engulf you, and the harder you struggle, the more trapped you become,

By the time you try to scream, it’s already too late. You’re caught in the spider’s web. And something is scurrying closer… Something big.

Something hungry…

PUBLICATION DATE November 30, 2020



Tanisha jerked awake, her breath catching in her throat and her heart pounding against her ribs. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she pushed herself up, clutching the blankets to her chest with one hand. The alien surroundings rattled her until she could shake off enough sleep to remember where she was. It had been a month and she still couldn’t get comfortable waking up in her boyfriend’s room.


Our room, she corrected herself. The reminder worked to settle her heartbeat somewhat. Jeff shuffled in his sleep beside her, the small motion rattling the thin mattress, and she assumed that must have been what startled her. Learning to share a bed was a lot harder than she had first thought it would be.


Awake now, and with a growing need for coffee, she pushed her feet out from under the thick mound of blankets. It had snowed overnight and the winter chill had crept into the house to coat the floor. We need to get some rugs. Shoving her feet into her slippers, she blindly groped along the bed until her fingertips found her fluffy bathrobe. She needed a few extra seconds to convince herself that she really did want to leave the warmth of the bed and rubbed a hand absently over her face. As she tied the belt of the bathrobe, something in the corner of her eyes caught her attention. The place was still so new that her sleep-riddled brain ticked over a few times before it clicked. The armchair wasn’t against the wall.


There was a gap of a few feet separating the end of the bed and the wall. The space was a bit cramped for the armchair, but Jeff liked having the chair right next to the inbuilt bookshelf, and she had to admit that it is a convenient place to put the washing basket while using the bed to fold the laundry. She had gone to sleep with the winged back armchair pushed flush against the wall. Now it was jammed tight against the end of the bed.


Tanisha shuffled across the room, once again adjusting her bathrobe against the creeping cold. It was a point of pride with Jeffery that he lived in the house that his grandfather built with his own hands. Every nook and cranny were pure perfection in his eyes. So even mentioning that the whole place was riddled with drafts was out of the question. She had to admit though, the bitter cold was far from a deal-breaker, especially when there were so many positives. A cute, four-bedroom cottage style home set on a decent plot of land. Not ostentatious. Just cozy. Not warm, she admitted with a small smile. But cozy.


The chair was heavy enough that she needed both hands to wrangle it back to its original place. Despite her best efforts, the material slipped through her fingers and smacked hard against the wall, the high back cracking against the lowest row of the inbuilt bookshelf. Jeff snapped awake with a startled cry.


“Sorry, sorry, my bad.”


Jeff blinked a few times before leaning forward, stretching his neck, and squinting.


“Yeah, it’s me,” Tanisha giggled. “Put on your glasses.”


Stifling a yawn, he slumped back onto one elbow to do just that. “What are you doing up so early?”


“You don’t even know what time it is,” she countered.


“If I don’t wake up naturally, it’s too early.” Fumbling with the heavy black rims of his glasses, he took a proper look at her. “What are you doing?”


Tanisha flipped one of her hands through the air as a loose gesture at nothing in particular. “Did you move the chair?”


“Why would I?”


“I don’t know,” Tanisha said. “But someone did, and there’s only the two of us in the house.”


His brow furrowed and his head tipped to the side. “It’s where it's always been.”


“Well, now it is. I just moved it back.”


Jeff flicked his eyes between her and the chair a few times. After a heartbeat, he asked, “Are you sure you didn’t dream doing that?”


“Yes, I'm sure."


He held his hands up in mock defense. “I’ve told you a dozen times, babe. You’re a sleepwalker. And a sleeptalker. It gets kinda creepy.”


“I know when I’m awake.”


He shrugged. “You made the exact same argument when you were putting me on trial for crimes against the Penguin Emperor.”


Tanisha opened her mouth. Closed it. “Huh?"


“You were sleeptalking. You went through the whole court proceedings. It was kinda fascinating, to be honest.”


“When did this happen?”


“Last night when I was getting ready for bed.”


Shoving her hands into the pockets of her bathrobe, she scrutinized every corner of her memory. “I don’t remember that.”


“That’s how it goes, babe.” Jeff lazily stretched his arms over his head and squirmed his way out from under the covers. “Pancakes for breakfast sound good?”


Humming her agreement, she stared at the chair, trying to force her memories into order. She was drawing a blank on everything Jeff was talking about. But the chair; she remembered that. The feel of the fabric, the weight in her hands, the loud crack as it fell against the wall. I moved it. That part had to be real. It woke him up, right? Although, none of that was proof that she hadn’t simply been fussing with it while sleepwalking. The debate was quickly pushed out by another question. She turned to see Jeff disappear through the doorway.


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