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An archive of what was done to us, and the thing that learned from it.
Literary horror built on real history. Queer stories you feel in your body.
The Archive
These stories were never meant to sit next to each other.
Silent Horrors is a growing body of interconnected horror fiction, psychological, literary, queer. Some are set tonight, in an app, in an apartment, in a normal life that isn’t quite. Some reach back decades, even centuries, into corners of queer history most people were never taught. Read one and it stands alone. Read several and you start to notice what you weren’t supposed to: a location that repeats. A phrase two strangers use the same way. A building that keeps showing up under a different name, in a different era.
The horror in these stories is rarely invented. Much of it happened. The archive does not explain the pattern connecting them, and it does not confirm there is one. It only keeps recording.
They are written to be felt before they are understood, which is not an accident. Their author went deaf as an adult and now takes in the world through the body first; the archive is built the same way.
No one here is confirming what connects the files. Keep reading and decide for yourself.
Keep the notes.
The Origin · Free to read
The Ward That Breathed Back
1947. A teacher is arrested for loving another man and offered a choice: a public record that ends his life, or a hospital that promises to correct him. He takes the hospital. He does not come back out.
A three-part story about a Catholic correction ward, and the men inside it. Every treatment in it is real. That is the part that should keep you up.
Readers of the archive have noticed this building keeps coming up. We couldn’t say why.
This is where the whole archive begins.
How You Start Says Something
Start by Noticing the Pattern
Start because something already felt off
Pick a file at random. Some readers are already in the archive and don’t know it.
Recurring Signals
The archive classifies what it finds. If you have read enough, you have seen these before.
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The Iron Gate: It has been seen in different places. Different times. The archive does not comment on whether it is the same gate.
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Saint Germaine: a building that was a hospital, then apartments. The record did not stop when the hospital did.
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The Breathing Floor: some structures keep time. Some of them breathe
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The Pattern: people who stop reaching. People who leave arranged. Better. Empty. You learn to notice.
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The Keepers: someone always kept the record. That is the only reason you can read any of this.
The Files
The archive continues to expand...
Serialized psychological horror • literary horror • queer horror • analog horror • original horror stories updated regularly
Who Keeps the Record
Silent Horrors is written by Waymon Hudson, a Deaf, queer storyteller. He went deaf as an adult, and it changed how he makes everything: he builds stories the way he now takes in the world, through the body, through what you feel before you understand it. That is not a metaphor. It is the method. It is also why an archive of erasure, of the records someone worked to keep you from ever feeling, is the thing he was built to write. He was raised in a place that wanted him gone from the record. He has been keeping records ever since.
He makes music the same way, as a late-deafened songwriter working through vibration, sensation, memory, and touch. He writes about disability and survival with a grin and a knife. He is at work on a memoir and a musical. Different doors. Same house.
New Files Surface Regularly
The archive is not finished. It reaches back further than anything published so far, and it is still being added to.
Weimar. The convents. The ballrooms. The plague years.
We can’t say yet what connects them to the rest. Each one is a file waiting to be opened.
Keep the Notes
The stories that matter most are free, because the record should belong to everyone. Subscribe to get each new file the moment it surfaces, and to keep the archive open.
Access the Files
Serialized psychological horror • literary horror • queer horror • cinematic storytelling • new stories regularly
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