2018 $500 Halloween Writing Prompt Contest!

in Contests for writers

Welcome to our 2018 $500 Halloween Writing Prompt Contest. We decided to try something different this year. We are asking for writing prompts from YOU. In this case we are asking for writing prompts that will produce scary stories. You can see examples of these types of writing prompts over at our Top 10 Horrifying Horror Prompts. These prompts, the page was so popular, we wanted to write more than one, but we decided to get your help. We are going to use all or some of these for a new list of horrifying horror prompts.

The 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place winners of this contest will the first 3 on our new list. We will give you credit for the prompt and a link to your page. The first place winner will walk away from this contest with $500. We want your horrifying halloween writing prompts!

Here are the rules of contest:

  • You have to write a scary horror prompt (or it must inspire other writer to write a scary story)
  • You have to write your prompt in the comments section
  • You have to do this by October 28, 2018.
  • Winner of the contest will be announced on Halloween Night
  • Prompt must be original and not published anywhere else on the web

Write your scariest horror story prompt and put it in the comments below.  Here is what you will win:

  • Winner gets $500
  • Winner and other best prompts will be published on our Terrifying writing prompts page
  • You will get credit for your prompt on our site
  • You will get a link to your site from our page
  • You will get to inspire others to write terrifying stories

The prompts can be scary, we want them to make us feel fear, but in the end the prompt just has to make us and others produce something a horrifying story. So leave your Halloween Horror Prompts below!

Richard Edwards has a BFA in Creative Writing and Journalism from Bowling Green State University and an M.S. in Education from the University of Akron. Managing editor of Drunk Duck, poetry editor for Prairie Margins, reporter for Miscellany, Akron Journal, Lorain Journal...check our About Us page for more. Also here is info on our On Classic Articles


  1. Hello, I am taking a short break from EWR until 11/11/18 (traveling). The winners of all contests were posted on our Twitter, in the movie chat, and sent through our newsletter! Please follow us on Twitter and sign up for the newsletter. The Christmas rush will kick off this weekend. More information is coming.

  2. Maybe there were worse assignments than covering the opening of the ‘Museum of Fears’ on Halloween night but I couldn’t think of one.

    My editor, not a bad guy when he’s sober, knew I’d be available. No family, no partner and, as of last week, not a friend in the world.

    While my camerawoman adjusted her gear I checked out the exhibits on the first of five floors: Phobias. It didn’t take long to figure out I’d have to rewrite my prepared text. The Museum of Fears was not family-friendly. It was dark. Really dark. I already knew I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, and not for any good reason.

    Well past my slutty nurse phase, I’d opted for a plain black dress, a long cape and a taser strapped to my left thigh.

    It was time to face my fears.

  3. For the past week I’d been having the same dream. It starts with me taking a drive through the countryside on an exquisite autumn day. Mornings that start out cool only to blossom into warm sunny days without the oppressive heat of summer. Perfect picture-taking weather if you’ve got an eye for that sort of thing—which I don’t. But I always liked getting out of the city, going somewhere to see how the leaves have turned, smelling the rich mulchy scent of decaying leaves and grasses, feeling the strength of the sun on my shoulders. The air so clear I feel as if I can see into the next county. As the dream progresses, the feel of it changes; my joy at being away from the constant press of people is gradually eclipsed by a sense of deep foreboding. I look around in an attempt to pinpoint a source for the hollow feeling that has caused my skin to suddenly tighten around the shell of my body. Gradually a dank chill invades my space pushing the air against my tightened skin, rooting my feet to the ground. Something is coming, something more terrifying than I could have ever imagined.

  4. It’s nearly Halloween. Yes, I know, I’m an adult and I shouldn’t be getting be getting so excited, but I can still decorate and give out candy. I’m really excited about the Jack-O-Lanterns. I always enter the local contest for the best Jack-O-Lanterns, and I know I’m gonna win this year. I bought a candle today, it’ll be the perfect finishing touch.
    Suddenly, I’m plunged into darkness. I get up and flick the light switch a few times; nothing happens. I sigh. I have no choice but to light my Jack-O-Lantern early.
    A little later, when I’m ready to go to bed, the power’s still out. I blow out the candle in the Jack-O-Lantern, but it relights. That’s odd, I think. I try again, it relights again. I distinctly remember NOT getting trick candles. I gasp softly as a decaying, skeletal finger caresses my neck.
    I go cold. Something’s here with me.

  5. Whilst on my second midnight promenade through the thoroughfare, I decided to redress at the local cemetery, as I needed to step out of the University environment in search of a serene environment where I could get some inspiration for my conference presentation in a fort-night’s time, on a recent excavation I had done at the cemetery closest to the university for the course of one of my Ph.D research projects. Unlike other cemeteries I had visited, this very one bore an entrance signage, “dreams are forever, Amen.”

    The sudden outburst of rain had me running to one of the well sheltered graves, which was well accomodating in structure and size; at least, it could keep me away from being beaten by the downpour.

    On entrance to the well-built shelter, I had noticed it was well decorated, and seemed very freshly built. To my bewilderment, the death date of Mr. Shokat Joseph, whose name was engraved into the tomb stone bore the 18th of December 2021, which was 5 years away from the my current time.

    Welcome! A large voice spoke out of the blue! I was greatly terrified. On looking around, I saw no trace of a being! Suddenly I heard fast footsteps approaching me, I tried to scream, but I noticed that I had lost my voice; I tried to run, but it was as if my legs were tied; terrifying darkness took hold of the formerly well-lit environment! Scornful laughters filled the whole cemetery; I saw my end coming to a close.

    “This should be enough inspiration for your paper presentation at the Sage’s Conference! We look forward to welcoming you to London in a fortnight!” Some thunderous voices spoke in unison! You may go now, one of the voices spoke up! The scornful laughters continued. At that instance, I regained my locomotive abilities as well as my voice; the lights also came up, whilst the downpour came to a stop. I raced as fast as my legs could carry me out of the graveyard!

  6. The office boss had called upon Rohit and informed him about an emergency meeting at 11 pm sharp on that day itself. Rohit had not taken his dinner yet and needed to hurry up. Soon he sped towards the kitchen and looked around and found that the rice cooker was placed in the far right corner of the kitchen. He opened it and found small amount of rice was placed in it. He then moved on towards the fridge and as he opened it and soon a cup had met his eyes. Some carrots lay in there too. As he opened the cup from the fridge, he found a bit of curd lying in it. Soon he takes out the cup of the curd and the carrots and then makes his way back to the kitchen.

    At first he switches on the electric rice cooker and proceeds to heat the curd on. In about fifteen minutes he switches off the electric cooker and moves on towards the curd to add a bit of turmeric to it and stirs it up. As it almost gets a bit hot, he then takes out the rice from the electric cooker and then pours the curd into it. He first munches upon the carrots and soon finishes off the rice.

    His eyes move towards the wall clock and sees that the clock had struck ten already. His wife and children had gone to bed already. Soon he jumps into his pants and quickly wears on a yellow T-shirt. Moving outside, he makes sure to close the door of his house quite silently and then shoots off with his car. After travelling for some distance, he then checks upon the time on his car dash board and notices that almost an hour had passed by. He had not much time left on hand and had then decided to take a short cut. Moving on for some distance, a shadow had branched out from behind the trees in here. As he looked on, he could not make out the shadow as on that day it turned out to be a half moon day and there was not much light on that day!! The shadow was branching out slowly by slowly!!

  7. You’re invited to a Hallowe’en Ball. Little do you know, all of the guests, possibly with the exception of your plus one (if you’re lucky) are supernatural monsters! What type of monster and why they want a human guest is up to you.

  8. You have always despised your brother. The way your mother had always favoured him over you. The way everyone had always asked about him while you were standing right there, waiting, waiting for that fabled moment of being in the spotlight for once. The way he had looked at you like you very the very dirt he walked on. You had wished nothing but death upon him. Horrible, agonizing death. You had prayed for it. You had relished in the thought. You hated him even more now. You hated how he stared at you from across the sterile white room, his face mangled, his body torn. You screamed at him to go away, to finally leave you alone. He wouldn’t. He never would.

  9. You wake up, calmly and peacefully. It’s just like surfacing from under water. The room is dark, barely illuminated by the street lights seeping in through the window. You sigh and swing your legs over the edge of your bed – your bladder is full and there will be no more sleep coming unless you make the oh-so-inconvenient trip to the bathroom. The hallways are silent in that eerie way every room gets at night. You barely manage to sidestep one of your dog’s toys. That damned thing. Where is he, anyway? The bathroom visit is quick enough. While washing your hands, you avoid making any kind of eye contact with mirror. Hah, as if reflections could ever hurt you. On your way back to your room, you step into something wet. You squint at the floor, then at the ceiling. It has been raining for the last couple of days, after all. You keep moving. Your dad will deal with that tomorrow. You open your bedroom door and reach for the light switch. You fingers freeze. Its mouth is gaping open, gleaming crimson in the darkness so close you can smell the rot on its breath. You are not surprised. You have been waiting.

  10. Everything is black. Then you open your eyes, recognizing the interior of your car, where you are sitting in the driver’s seat. It takes you a few seconds to recall, but you remember that you had been driving down a narrow, rural road. You wonder if you had gotten into an accident, but the car is silently sitting in the middle of the thoroughly worn pavement. A throbbing pain emits from your arm, catching your awareness; you realize it is bloodied and immobile. As you desperately search for your phone to call emergency services, you hear a rapping from the passenger seat window. Even in the darkness of the night, you can make out a dark figure right outside of the car.

  11. Your eyes open to the darkness of your bedroom after you wake up from the sound of your roommate talking on the phone in the kitchen. Unable to move your body, you are unsure whether or not you’re still asleep. Only your eyeballs have such freedom, glancing around until they rest on the form of a coat hanger next to the closet. But, you think, that is supposed to be near the front door. The form moves, and you feel a prickle in the tips of your fingers and toes as it comes toward you. You attempt to utilize your limbs to no success. Trying to scream as loudly as you can for your roommate, you know what is released is no louder than a mumble.

  12. The seeming nothingness of a good night’s sleep becomes interrupted when you startle to the sensation of wetness running down your arm. Attributing it to a dream, you fade back to sleep, but the feeling keeps coming, causing you to wake up. A metallic smell fills your nose, and you place your other hand on the damp arm. It’s sticky. You quickly turn on the bedside lamp. It is one of those moments where you become conscious of the beating of your heart. Your arm is drenched in blood.

  13. This was getting old. Detective Rosente was reaching his patience limit. The boy continued to stick to his story, but his body language oozed avoidance. It could be culpability or collusion. He wouldn’t look directly at the detective- or anyone for that matter. A display of sever guilt.

    Rosente continued the interrogation, his anger growing. The missing girl, Caroline Fornte, was a popular girl within the cool-kids-clique. Her disappearance was noticed in a short span of time. Everyone knew she and Richardo weren’t going to last. There was a rumor that their dating was just the product of a bad bet. A prank carried on too long. Ricardo was a “troubled” kid. The kind that would be stereotyped to shoot up a school. He certainly dressed the part- all in black and pierced. Did she confess to the dare, and in a fit of rage, he harmed her?

    “You were the last person to see her, Ricardo! People don’t ‘just vanished’, boy!”

    “It’s the truth!”, Ricardo insisted with his chin in his chest, his eyes of the floor, his long bangs flapping against his forehead as his head bobbed. His wrist was cuffed to the table so his agitated movements were hindered.

    “BULL!” The detective shouted back, launching forward. He circled to Richardo’s right side and the boy swung his head in the other direction. Rosente had had enough.

    “Look at me when I’m talking to you, boy!”

    “I CANT!” Ricardo shook his head violently. “I’LL DISAPPEAR TOO!” He gripped the seat of the chair tightly as if holding on to a life preserver.

    Rosente’s eyebrow shot up. Could someone have forced the kid to do something to Caroline, or is this some drug-induced paranoia? He grabbed Ricardo’s face roughly and forced eye to eye contact.

    “What the hell are you on, you little wack-job? What are you talking abou-”

    Ricardo’s pupils faded away as Detective Rosente stared directly into them. In a trance-like voice, Ricardo uttered one drawn out word.


    The boy vanished.

  14. Your dad is always away from home on business. He never calls. Never sends messages. Never visits. Today you check the mail to see a letter from your dad. Although upset and angry with him a small part of you is filled with joy. You open the letter and its a picture of your dad sleeping. With blood on the edge of the picture. You turn it over and it says “your next.”

  15. Your dad is always away from home on business. He never calls. Never sends messages. Never visits. Today you check the mail to see a letter from your dad. Although upset and angry with him a small part of you is filled with joy. You open the letter and its a picture of your dad sleeping. With blood on the edge of the picture. You turn it over and it says your next.

  16. It’s Christmas morning and you wake up to the hope of hearing the joyful singing of your dad or the abrupt footsteps from your crazy brothers or even the sizzle from the pan as your mom makes her famous pancakes. Instead, you wake up to the sound of silence. You think to yourself “maybe they aren’t awake yet.” You eagerly open your brother’s room door to wake them up. No one was there. Then you open your parent’s room door. No was one there. You take a look out the window and not a car is in sight. You begin to panic, you start to catch your breath, rubbing your eyes frantically as if it was just a nightmare. Then You reach for the phone to call the police, instead, your eye is drawn to the iridescent wrapped gift. You open it and it’s a snowglobe of your hometown. After you gently shake the snowglobe instead of seeing beautiful white snow falling, black snow is falling and the snowglobe turns completely black. You start to feel dizzy and your vision begins to blur, then you fall on the ground unconscious. You open your eyes and you’re not at home anymore. You scream “WHERE AM I!”

  17. You’re lying on the hospital bed waiting for surgery. The nurse tells you to count backwards from 100 as she administers the anesthetic into your IV. You barely reach 90 when you start to feel the wooziness taking over. Any second now you’ll be unconscious. There’s so many people in scrubs and surgical masks moving about the room. You can’t keep your eyes open any longer. The last thing you remember is a voice whispering into your ear, “I’ve waited a long time to get my revenge.”

  18. As you walk to the podium to accept your award, you desperately try to remember the speech you wrote. Standing in front of the applauding audience, you lock eyes with your fiancée and smile warmly. “Thank-,” is all you manage to get out before a searing pain in your abdomen forces your breath back in. Your ears ring, your skin trembles, and you wonder why you didn’t realize there would be a full moon tonight. You notice your esteemed piers in the audience standing and backing away in fear. As your vision turns red and madness takes over your mind, you can’t help but let out a soul chilling howl.

  19. To better understand the mind of criminals and the nature of empathy, scientists are working on technology that allows them to experience life from the criminal’s point of view. Needing cash, you volunteer for their trial tests. You are told little about the criminal you will be connected with only that you will know, see, and feel everything that they felt from birth to the time of their arrest. You are also told that you will not be able to stop the experiment once it begins. Once linked, you discover you’re living the life of a famed serial killer who ate his victims alive.

  20. “STOP IT! DON’T MAKE ME BRING IT OUT!” Ricky pushed ineffectively against the stronger boy. Bret had Ricky’s shirt gathered in his fist as he swatted the smaller boy’s head repeatedly with his free hand.

    “FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!” The circle of youngsters chanted at the boys.

    “Bring what out, sissy? You got a knife or something? You think I’m scared of a little knife?” Bret puffed up for the crowd. The bully increased pressure on Ricky’s chest, pinning him to the locker. Bret balled up his other fist and drew back to punch Ricky in the head this time.

    “DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!” The crowd goaded.

    Ricky squirmed desperately. His teeth gritted in a skeletal grimace. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep hold of his secret.

    Something flashed between them, almost too fast to see. Bret’s pressing hand was sliced from his wrist. Blood splashed Ricky’s mortified face as the plasma pumped out. Bret was slow to realize what had happened as his severed hand relaxed its grip and fell to the floor. He tried, dumbly, to will it back to his exposed and bleeding wrist. Finally, he screamed from shock.

    Ricky’s serrated tail lashed about as if waving to the stunned crowd. He hung his head in shame as Bret’s blood dripped down his face onto his red-soaked shirt.

    “See what you made me do?” he whispered to Bret, who was on his knees cradling his spurting wrist, whimpering like a beaten dog. “Now, it’s hungry.”

    There was a change in Ricky’s baring. He slowly gazed at the faces in the crowd like a predator. He grinned from a red-wet mouth and licked the blood on his lips.

    “Now, I have to feed it… with them.”

  21. Milo had only been missing for a couple days when you find the dog bloody and contorted in the garden. You prepare yourself for the death talk. Your daughter bursts into tears, but your son appears unmoved. When he claims he doesn’t know what happened to Milo, something in his voice makes you uneasy. It’s the same way he might tell you he didn’t have an extra cookie before dinner, crumbs still caked around his lips.

    A thought nags at you: Milo wasn’t the first pet in the neighbourhood to go missing or pass away unexpectedly. Maybe it was just a wild animal or, you shudder as a lurking thought creeps forth, or maybe it was something much, much worse.

  22. Laying on your back, you are in excruciating pain. You vaguely know the surgery is over but something is seriously wrong. A male nurse slowly lifts and rocks your whole body to the right, then to the left. You know you have been screaming, begging for a long time as you hear your raspy voice plead once again , “Kill me! Please, kill me NOW!” The pain soars beyond understanding but there is no merciful unconsciousness.. Instead, through swollen slitted eyes, you can see your exhale consists of a fine black dust cloud …. tiny black particles that spread out into the air around your hospital bed.

  23. You’re home alone late on a Friday night when your cell phone buzzes. It’s a text from a friend who lives down the street, asking if you’ve seen the unnerving story just announced on the local news and heard the strong warning for your neighborhood. You reply that you’d seen it. Actually, you’d turned off the TV because it sent a chill down your spine. Your friend replies he’s coming over to check on you, and then you hear his knock on the door. As you approach the front entrance you can see your friend through the tall window. At first he smiles, but then his eyes dart and the expression which washes over his face makes your heart freezes in terror. He’s looking past your shoulder, behind you.

  24. You never wanted responsibility for anyone else’s life, much less a child’s. Much less your own, brought into the world by accident.

    But you’re obligated to care for them, lest you seem like an awful person. You don’t want others to think that, lest you reveal your deepest desires. You know society scorns people who think as cruelly as you do.

    However, a great power bestows itself upon you one day, claiming it can bring torment to the “unworthy” without them knowing its source. What do you do with it?

    Do you wish to ignore it and continue to suffer in silence? Or do you take full advantage, using it to spite all who have burdened you with their existence?

    All fall under the power’s might, including your family and spawn. Who among them can be “unworthy” to you?

    Who among anyone can be unworthy to someone who thinks like you do?

  25. Jenna was used to working late but usually her boss was with her. Tonight her boss left saying she would be back within the hour but so far she had not shown. The emptiness was getting to her. Suddenly Jenna heard the door to her boss’ office open. She got up and looked inside. The room was empty, door still closed and locked. Suddenly Jenna felt cold. Upon return to her office, Jenna saw on her computer that she had an email message. She opened it It was from her boss. It simply said, “Help me return.” While trying to digest what this meant, the phone rang – it was the police. “We are sorry to tell you this,” they started, “but your boss was found murdered an hour ago.”

  26. You are pleased to get a seat on the Tube. You tumble into it gratefully, your arms full of shopping. It’s a seat near the doors, marked as a seat reserved for those who need it. You pause and reflect on how civilized the Tube seems on a Friday afternoon at 3 pm. You’re used to scrambling through the automatic doors with the morning crush, squeezing past other commuters at an ungodly hour, roasting in summer and suffocating in winter. Getting a seat is a luxury. While it’s half term, you didn’t expect the Tube to be this empty, you reflect, gazing around at the other empty seats. A few other people sit in the carriage, reading discarded copies of the Evening Standard or their phones. Something catches your eye to the right of your seat, near the doors. A skeletal arm appears from the carriage floor and writhes around. You blink in shock, glancing to see if anyone else has twigged this unbelievable manifestation. The articulated bones move around noiselessly. You hold your breath. No one else can see. You pass through a tunnel, and the lights flicker out.

  27. It’s a dark night, and you’ve just gotten off the bus. You walk through the bus station. A man in an oversized hoodie and track suit bottoms lolls on a metal bench, empty cans of beer at his feet. You walk past the silent, censorious gazes of old women in raincoats, their hair tied up in rain bonnets. You cross the street, noting on your left the pub with its grimy windows lit up by the neon of abandoned fruit machines. As you advance towards the last road you have to cross before you turn into your own street, you see a figure approaching. The street are otherwise deserted. You wait at the kerb, your gaze sweeping left and right, but there are no cars approaching from either direction. As you cross the road, you note the figure is getting closer. It is an ordinary man in jeans and a leather jacket with his hood up. You pull up your coat collar against the cold wind and continue, crossing the road. You are about to pass the approaching figure and begin to move to the right to let him pass. As you do, you see he is not wearing a hood. A neat haircut greets you where his face should be. His head is on backwards.

  28. You rub your tired eyes. You have been staring at your laptop for six hours and have been working nonstop for two days, with short and erratic breaks. By now, the government has removed all honey from supermarket shelves, and news bulletins have been warning citizens around the clock against honey consumption. To get to this point, more than twenty people have died, poisoned by an as-yet-unidentified constituent in honey. There are no links between cases, no connections between buyers, sellers, distributors, beekeepers, habitats, geography . . . Leading investigators deny that the poison has a human source; rather, it is believed to be a naturally-occurring toxin. You are racing to break down the molecular structure of the honey to discover where the toxin has come from. Your e-mail pings. The sender’s address is a string of numbers and letters, and the subject line reads: THE BEES ARE GETTING THEIR REVENGE

  29. Her husband’s abusive behavior is becoming increasingly sadistic. Tired of living in fear, she finally vows to leave him the next time he works the nightshift.

    Tonight’s the night.

    To avoid risking any further torment, she makes an excuse for not coming home before he leaves for work that evening. It’s time to make her move. She rushes home, hoping to quickly pack a few of her belongings to take with her.

    As she pulls into the driveway, she is in shock when she catches her husband glaring at her with a sinister grin through the curtains of their bedroom window. Overcome with terror, she does not notice the man approaching her car. He startles her as he knocks on her window. It’s the sheriff.

    After verifying her identity, he solemnly asks her to step out of the car. “Ma’am, I’m sorry to inform you that your husband was in a bad car accident just down the road. I’m afraid he’s dead.”

    She immediately looks up at her bedroom window. The curtains are now closed as a shadowy figure passes behind them.

  30. She was in a rush. She was preparing a quick bite to eat—tearing open the cardboard box, ripping off the plastic film, shoving a metal tray in the oven—before changing her clothes and going out. As she bent down to adjust the temperature on the oven, a piece of hair fell out of the scrunchie of her functional ponytail. She winced as the hair brushed her left ear. It was always her left ear! She had gotten her ears pierced over a week before, and it had been surprisingly painful. Although she had followed the instructions to keep the new holes clean, they frequently stung and itched. She resisted touching the lobe with her finger, forced herself to focus on returning to the kitchen counter where she had laid out an avocado and a knife. She used the knife to slice through the thick green skin of the avocado and into the soft, chartreuse flesh. The knife stuck in the hard core. Glancing in annoyance at the kitchen clock—she was going to be late—the knife caught as she removed it. It grazed her left index finger. “Ouch!” she cried. Automatically, she brought the injured finger to her mouth and sucked the blood away. At that moment, her left ear throbbed with a penetrating pain. She brought her finger to the ear piercing and drew it away, gasping at a globule of sticky, pink jelly on the tip of her finger. Avocado forgotten, she rushed to the sink and washed her hands. The cut on her finger stung, and unconsciously she lifted it to her mouth again. She tasted not only the tang of blood but the sweet and unmistakable taste of strawberry jam. She gasped. She tore off a piece of paper towel and brought it to her ear. A huge clump of pink coagulant, the color and texture of jam and smelling strongly of strawberries, came away in the paper towel. Shaking with revulsion, she brought a clean paper towel to her ear as an unending stream of jam trickled down.

  31. It is a beautiful day. Your three boys set off, flattened boxes under arms, to fly down the grassy slopes of ‘Mt Slide’ as they have since they were old enough to escape your sight. “Stay out of the forest” is the ever constant send off you give as the three run, caterwauling away, across the open field. That afternoon, in silence, only one returns. “We went into the forest,” he confesses softly.

  32. You find the home of your dreams. The realtor tells you it’s situated on an old graveyard. You’re confused because you see no tombstones anywhere in the yard. After you have signed the contract, the previous owner tells you the bodies were buried under the floor boards of the living room and kitchen.
    At night, you shine your flashlight into a crack in the floor. There is what appears to be a corpse, which suddenly opens its eyes and sits up,

  33. In a dark oak wood, I heard uncanny wails beyond the mangled danger sign. Large black wings, piercing horns and it was coming for me.

  34. You are jolted out of your sleep by a paralyzing screech. To your dismay, you find yourself inside a dimly lit room, strapped to a metal chair, unable to recall how you got there. Then you see it — a glimpse beyond the hazy veil of darkness — a shadowy figure coming right toward you…wielding an axe.

  35. After sitting down on a park bench, a mysterious man notices that his pants are strangely sticky with congealed blood. He immediately gets up and looks all around. Out of morbid curiosity, he fearfully follows the terrorizing trail of oozing blood to see where it leads. Then all of a sudden, he is struck in the back of the head with a brutal blow and falls smack down in the middle of the paved pathway. Everything goes demonically dark and he enters a vicious vortex of paralyzing pain and torturous suffering.

  36. She surreptitiously saunters down the silently surreal street sheathed in obscure darkness. She doesn’t know who or what she is looking for; only that she was hypnotically led here by a déjà vu dream the night before. The air is so suffocatingly sticky that she can pull it with her fingers like salt water taffy. Each secret step she takes creates even more dank darkness. The pathway ahead becomes increasingly unknown. Yet, somehow a powerful force is ghoulishly guiding her along. Where is this mysterious road leading her to and how will she know where her final destination is? Suddenly, she can’t see… She can’t hear… Now she can’t feel… She can’t even breathe… She… Then nothing but a fearful fog of deadpan silence.

  37. Friends attend a Halloween party at an old mansion and slowly people start to die.
    Legend has it that a maid was having an affair with the owner and his wife found out
    about it and fired her. Then, she became pregnant and lost her job. She had no money and abandoned the baby upon birth. Finally, she went insane and entered a mental institution.
    Her daughter grew up in a foster home and wants to meet her birth mother. She found out what happened to her mother and is seeking revenge against the next family’s descendents
    by working as a cook at the old mansion.

  38. A man walks along a wooded bike path at night to surprisingly discover a woman lying on her side in the bushes who appears to be severely bleeding and badly beaten. He dials 911 on his cell phone and when the call ends, the woman suddenly grabs his leg and pulls him to the leafy ground and wraps her hands around his throat. Gasping for air, he struggles to get up but it is too late and he succumbs to death. The next person that comes by to check out what happened here may have just sealed their own horrifying fate.

  39. While taking her morning jog, a woman discovers a dead body washed ashore on a barren beach. She frantically calls the police and reports it only to become a prime suspect in a gruesome murder. Even though she pleads her innocence, all of the clues lead them to believe she is guilty.

  40. The discovery of the first mask was bad enough. The knowledge of what lay beneath that stranger’s skin was disturbing, only not in a personal way. Next it had been the mail carrier, then his boss, who revealed their own false visages. But it was the sight of his own child, delightfully peeling away the flesh of her nose, that had sent him running, panicked, into the bathroom, where with growing trepidation he looked into the mirror. There, along his left jaw line, a seam. Unable to stop his hand from moving, he ran a finger up and under the thin line of separation, then gripped with two of his fingers and pulled.

  41. Being a psychiatrist in a maximum-security prison is not an easy job. Today, you spoke with a new inmate, a killer. You felt an odd atmosphere in the room as you spoke with him, almost a kind of…presence. You recorded the session and are now listening to it as you review the case. At one particular moment during the conversation, you think you hear something on the tape. You stop and back it up, listening very closely. There is a third voice, whispering underneath the killer’s.

  42. You are watching the evening news with your spouse. They’re presenting a special report on the unidentified killer terrorizing your neighborhood. They believe that the killer has been caught on tape. Despite the poor, grainy quality, you catch your breath when they show the footage. The person in the video is wearing a jacket you recognize. You gave it to your spouse for Christmas.

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