Welcome to our 2021 50 World Horror Story “Only for the Glory” contest. EWR has been on Hiatus for a good while. We have had many issues over the last year, but your fearless editor is working to get the wheels turning again. I can’t let Halloween go by without a horror story contest. Bragging rights and promotions are the prizes this year. . Basically the best story, selected by me, wins. You leave your story in the comments, and it has to be scary.
The rules:
- Must be high quality horror stories
- Must be 50 words or under
- Must be a complete story
- Have to be in before our deadline.
- Deadline is October 29 2021
- Enter as many stories as you like!
- Post your story in the comments below.
- Scariest Story Wins
The prizes:
- The top 3 stories will be announced Halloween night 2021 on our site and in our movie chat.
- The top 3 stories will be announced on our social networks.
- The top story author gets to promote something writing related (a website, a book, a podcast, ect…) on our site and social networks.
So this is easy, leave your scary 50 word story in the comments. I’m really looking forward to reading them. Movie night details are coming.
(Note: you do not have to register or login to our site to leave a story or comment. All comments are currently being moderated, so it may take a little while for your story to appear)
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I wear two pairs of socks every night and tuck my feet under the duvet to stop me feeling the clammy, cold touch of its skin, but it’s no use. It starts with the wheezing breath, louder and louder until the claw reaches for my feet from under the bed.
The CCTV plays last night’s recording:
3:15am Alexa’s light comes on ‘Sorry I don’t understand…’
A figure opens its mouth ‘Tell her I …miss her…’
Alexa: ‘…Ok Jean…’
Chloe stops the tape, looks at Ben ‘Jean was my nana; she died a year ago… that thing is not my nana…’
“Death by fire will seem like a month in the country by the time I finish with you. Bye!”
Click.
When hot anger turned Kenny’s face eggplant-purple, the cords in his neck stood out like buttresses. Anonymous vile phone calls had been his release valve since his youth.
My body ached from the scratching and punching endured. My mouth swollen and dripping with blood. It was ecstasy. I caressed my lips with my tongue, cherishing every drop. I moved my gaze from the one below to those still standing and oblivious. I rose to the banquet with a smile.
The Virus,
There was screaming coming from outside. I ran to the living room flipping on the emergency shutters we installed when the virus first broke out. A creature broke through the glass of the last window blood shot everywhere, I caught a glance; Oh No; its Eve my neighbor!
The variant is here.
Torture,
she rips my flesh with her claws, I gurgle choking on the warm rustic taste… She slit my throat this time.
An enlightening thought flashed through my mind … “I’ll die!”
she smiled; the flesh of my throat slowly healed,… “No, you won’t slave!”
she reached up to slash my throat once more.
Wet
Wet footsteps moved towards me. Terrified, I recoiled when the ghost materialized. Dripping water, he tried to speak, but only frogs came out of his mouth.
What do you want?
Painfully, he moved to the window and pointed to a well in the backyard.
“Help me”. He mouthed and disappeared.
Mother and Father sit silently together, a book of mementos in Mother’s hands. A year had passed yet their sorrow clings soundly. They hear it once more: the echoing giggle of a girl not yet three. Mother shudders; from the book falls an old classified:
“Tricycle for sale, never used.”
My end is near. I feel myself weakening with each day.
Normally, joy sustains me. But these are troubled times.
There’s not enough to go around. It’s always squashed.
I fear for myself and those who need me when I leave.
What good’s any world without hope to encourage it?
“It’s going to rain.”
Mrs. Malcom looked up, her glossy eyes peering through her horned spectacles.
“Pardon?”
“It’s going to rain, Mrs. Malcom.”
And the girl lifted her black umbrella in the bookstore as thunder roared and the tremendous downpour of blood fell from the ceiling.
Who would’ve thought It would choose me?
I sit in the cold, dark room, my bare back touching the stony wall, it’s chill biting at me like a savage animal with ice for teeth, as I await It.
The shadows grow larger, until it’s one massive form.
Hello, It. Good-bye, world.
“The Deed”
Blood was sweet in your hands. Blood was rich and deep. Bones were heavy in the earth. Bones were crushed and churned into dirt. The hole was dug.
You had begun. The blood had drenched the earth and the marrow had dug deep in soil. The deed was done. Son.
“Crow Eyes”
Another crow on the park tree. You wait, it flies away. How many more. How many more times must you remember the skin peeling from skulls. The birds ripping out eyeballs. The kids you left there. You remember what it felt like to be alive. But you were all killed.
“Rotten Apples and Old Lighters”
The wind zips past me, rustling ears. I breathe heavily. He is coming. With the truck that smelled like rotten apples and old lighters. I saw pictures of kids he had found. And I was next. I raced but I didn’t see his van. He hit me. He found me.
Tread carefully in the mud of composted souls. Walking past cemetery stones, you feel the weight of mortality. Boots leave cratered prints in the soggy humus. The soil absorbs your steps, pulling you into deeper strata of death. Your foot sinks to the knee, and you belong to the earth.
Why? The Goth Queen chose me. Medusa braids and blackened eyes, she lured me into solitude, where we devoured each other. Satan’s dominatrix demanded submission but held nothing back. She lifted me toward eager bliss, then at climax delivered rapturous pain, like teeth tearing me asunder. She chose me. Why?
The anesthesiologist bade me “count backwards from ten.” I did, twice, yet I remain alert and sensate… although paralyzed. A cold blade severs my flesh. The jagged saw splits my breast. Explosive pain permeates my soul. Powerless to scream, entombed in agony, I can but suffer and pray for death.
I see myself murdered in a dream. Guilt, shame and regret from repressed depths emerged as an incubus with fiery eyes and rapier claws; it slashes my breast and extricates my still-beating heart. I’ve heard that when you die in a dream, you die in reality. Why can’t I awaken?
Mom always said, “Don’t pop pimples,” but this beast hurts. My fingers squeeze until a black ball protrudes. I pull it, feeling pressure until two cysts emerge. The extraction is weirdly bug-shaped. The pore still throbs. I press again. A termite crawls out. And another. The mirror reflects my swarm.
Dark and crooning. I am starving. Ripping my feathers to satisfy my hunger. I perch only for the glory of a wandering soul’s gaze. Waiting. Slowly my hunger grows as does the darkness. Shrieks. Caws. My talons sink; deep. The screams are devoured by my hunger; I feast.
“A Dark Place”
I have never been afraid of the dark. It never seemed all that bad to me. As an adult, if anxiety comes, I like to sit alone in a dark place. Something is different this time. The room feels bigger, I don’t feel alone. Why are you holding my hand?
“Ticklish Embrace”
Her skin tickled, indescribable brushing fell across her like the soft touch of a lover. Priming her, playing with her, as many groups of eight legs covered her body, encroaching on her every part. For as playful an encounter as this was, she could do nothing once the feeding started.
“What Happened”
The doctor entered, looked her over and dressed her wound. It had been open for weeks without healing. His hands were heavy, and the air was hot, but she felt cold. What could be the problem? He checked again, no pulse, no pressure and then she remembered the accident.
That is a fantastic flash fiction. Enjoyed it greatly.
“Crawl Space”
My neighbor tells me tight spaces scare him. I nod and look down at my book. He says it feels like someone’s sitting on his chest and he can’t breathe. I flip the page. Outside, the police continue their search. I’ll move the body when they’re done.
This contest is closed. Please visit our new contest. https://www.everywritersresource.com/2023-50-world-horror-story-we-miss-halloween-contest/
“Totem”
He stands back and admires the piece.
“Marvelous.” She says and touches the glass enclosure.
He nods and steps forward. Measuring tape ready. One of the heads tracks him with its milky eyes, another gnaws silently.
“Going to be hell getting it through the gallery door.”
“Worth it.” She answers.
The man in all black
He just stares at me, the man in all black. HE is tall and wears a suit of black. He hides in the trees waiting for little children. He has no face and he creeps around my house looking for me. I have been found it’s my turn to seek.
One dark cold windy day, I had gone with my friends to the woods but they accidentally left me there. I could hear some strange and scary noises coming from behind me, I started running as I saw a tall shadow and BOW that was the last day for me.
Halloween Night
It was Halloween night. I went back home with a bag full of candy excited to eat it all. I had it all planned out for the night candy, movie, and chill. But the worst thing that could ever happen happened. NO INTERNET NOOOO.
“not just a haunted house”
One cold Halloween night some friends wanted to have a spooky night and they did. They found a cheap haunted house in the woods, and they had no worries about it because “it’s just a haunted house” but little did they know that it was not just a haunted house…..
Hallwalker
Susie liked to tease little Becca. “Don’t look behind you in the hallway when it’s dark, or the Hallwalker will suck out your eyes.” Of course, Becca believed her big sister.
Thirteen years and one month later, Becca turned around.
Becca manages to get around fine with her guide dog.
Stray
Claire cared for strays. That evening, she followed an enormous hound into the cemetery.
A man in a tattered suit stood next to a freshly dug grave, stroking the dog.
“Yours?” Claire asked.
“Yes. Charlie is a good boy, bringing din-din. Kill.”
Claire screamed as she became kibble.
Creepy Crawlies
“You’re sure Ken wanted to meet here, a cave?” Holly asked.
“Yeah,” Jamie said.
Holly leaned over the edge of the deep chasm. “Gross,” she smashed a bug.
“Cave beetle. They bite hard. Eat meat. Ask Ken.”
Jamie shoved Holly.
“I saw and the texts. I forgive you. Now.”
Delivery
Hunger gnawed at the creature, its watery home barren.
A shadow moved above, on the shore.
Tommy smiled, clicking selfies next to the painted “Dead Pool” sign.
Splash!
The phone dropped to the wet sand and dinged with a message from Mom.
“Dinner is served.”
Indeed, it was.
It was a foggy morning and I was walking to the bus stop for school but something didn’t feel right. When I got to the bus stop no one was there so I thought that I had missed the bus so I went back home but no one was there ….
Sleep paralysis
I opened my eyes. There he is. At the corner of the room. He stares. His head tilts slowly. He’s moving towards me! I can’t move! I can’t speak! Somebody help me! Someone, please walk in! I’m parallelized. Stuck with my own thoughts. Frozen place.
I’m sorry. I have to fix something in my writing so the latest one of my writing is the one that I want to summit. I didn’t know how to delete it.
“Sleep paralysis”
I opened my eyes. There he is. At the corner of the room. He stares. His head tilts slowly. He’s moving towards me! I can’t move! I can’t speak! Somebody help me! Someone, please walk in! I’m parallelized. Stuck with my own thoughts. Frozen place.
“Sleep paralysis”
I opened my eyes. There he is. At the corner of the room. He stares. His head tilts slowly. He’s moving towards me! I can’t move! I can’t speak! Somebody help me! Someone, please walk in! I’m parallelized. Stuck with my own thoughts. Frozen in place.
It was cold Friday night in the middle of October. The cold wind breezes against my skin in the dead woods. Everything is dead and so am i. I feel surrounded by spirits ready to attack me.
IT IS DONE!!!
My blade snug now in the jugular of the motionless killer. The steel reflecting the crimson blood splatter as the pool underneath welcomes the last few drops. A fitting end to a depraved love child of young lovers who two decades ago had pledged themselves to Satan.
“Black and a Cherry Finish”
The cold of this place gets to me, I hate it here. All I see is darkness and woodgrain. Nevertheless, two things were always true about me, I look good in black and I love a cherry finish. Now, if I could only find a way out of this coffin.
“What Guy?”
Do you remember that guy last night?
Who?
The one setting beside me. You were on the love seat, I was on the couch drunk, but I saw him out of the corner of my eye. Did you see him?
What are you talking about, we were alone… what guy?
“Who?”
Hey mom, why do you have this pic?
What…who?
My friend Delina, here in this pic?
That can’t be your friend, she is my friend Delina.
No that’s her, the same person…
Honey Delina had an accident in 1998 and she passed, it can’t be the same person, can it?
“Pressure”
I felt the pressure of her holding my hand as we took our seats. We were in love. The safety bar clicked, we started to move. More pressure from her hand as we turned upside down, the bar clicked again, one more turn, and I felt nothing…she was gone.
“Flatline”
The sound was deafening. Kayla could feel the pain shooting through her body, she could feel the beat of her heart pounding. First in her chest, looking down and seeing red she could feel the heartbeat move to her lungs and throat. Then she felt it no more.
TRAIL ANGEL
Walking the Appalachian trail had worn down my legs, and so I graciously accepted the offer from one of the local trail angels to rest a bit at their home.
The next morning I groggily awoke to find my body strapped to a table, and those tired legs now gone.
THE TRUNK
My two year old son was missing. He was playing hide and seek with his old brother and had been gone for several hours now.
I rushed to my car to drive down to the park on that hot day, and as I passed the trunk, the smell was horrifying.
LEFT HANGING
He dangled above the ground, mere inches from safety. The stool was only about another foot away, taunting him. It was his fault – He’d been the one that wanted to die. It wasn’t until he felt the rope suffocating him that he realized how badly he wanted to live.
CRIES OF THE AFFLICTED
I can’t take it anymore – the screams of horror and torment were just too much. The wailing of men, women and children begging for me to help them. Their cries of anguish echoing in my ears, haunting me and keeping me up at night.
I’ll never visit the cemetery again.
TWENTY-YEARS
I spent twenty-years off my life in prison for killing my husband. I had done so to protect my son who told me that his step-father had been sneaking into his room at night and abusing him.
Twenty years later, my son finally confessed to me that he had lied.
THE VOODOO DOLL
Mother held the doll above the fire, mumbling something about how her twenty-year old daughter was “too old to be playing with dolls”. She didn’t realize how the doll resembled herself – all she could do was scream when she cast the doll into the fire, and burst into flames herself.
THE MESSENGER
The crow was perched outside my window, clawing at the glass with its sharp claws.
I tapped the window, trying to make it go away, but it didn’t.
The next day the sunlight reflected off the scratched glass, revealing letters carved by the crows talons, reading:
“Tomorrow you will die”
MUNCHAUSEN BY PROXY
As her young son laid in the hospital bed with symptoms that perplexed the doctors, she scrolled through her Facebook notifications:
“Praying for you!”
“God bless!”
“Love you Emily!”
“Thinking of you!”
Grateful for all the attention she was receiving, she crushed another pill to place in her son’s food.
THERE ARE NO IMAGINARY FRIENDS
My son talked about his imaginary friend, Kevin. I thought nothing of it until I heard two voices in his room late one night. I found my son leaning out the window – talking to a homeless drifter. The drifter grab him and took off.
I never saw my son again.
A FRIGHTENING FACE
I sat there on the couch, blanket pulled up to my face and curled in the fetal position. I’d been sitting like that hours, just staring at my window. There was a face in it, and that face was staring back at me. But the face – it was my own.
WORMS
I woke up to find a worm writhing around on my pillow. I quickly killed it. The rest of the day I continued to find worms everywhere. I wondered where they were coming from… until I coughed and pulled back my hand to find a worm wriggling around on it.
TERMINUS
She was staring off into the distance, a blank expression on her sickly pale face. He was still talking to her, but his voice had faded as the world around her crumbled. She was so angry… so sad that she couldn’t even bring herself to cry.
“Cancer…” She repeated, “Terminal.”
THE GIFT
There’s a knock on my door and I open the door to find a small box wrapped in paper and a red bow. I sigh. For the last seven years I’ve been receiving gift boxes like this.
I pick up the box that contains another piece of my missing wife.
THE SEER
I see what people will look like before they die.
I’ll see a man with a broken neck, days later he’ll hang himself.
A woman covered in blood – later she’s run over by a bus.
Everywhere I look, I see the decaying corpses of the soon to be dead.
MAN’S BEST FRIEND
Man’s best friend stood over the two children cowering in the corner, the blood of their parents dripping from its teeth. She growled angrily as they screamed for help. It was unclear when Fifi had developed a taste for human flesh, but one thing was clear – she was still hungry.
A TASTE FOR FLESH
As a serial killer, my first mistake was keeping my hounds hungry enough to devour my victims. They had developed a taste for human flesh, and my dogs were always hungry for more meat.
My second mistake was getting trapping in this cabin during a snow storm alone with them.
REPLACEMENT
The doctors had said I needed a kidney replacement, and I was surprised to find they’d found a donor so quickly. When I awoke from the surgery, I found myself in a bathtub filled with ice.
The stitches on my side told me my kidney wasn’t replaced, it was stolen.
SCARECROW
I squinted out my window, watching as the scarecrow in the distance swayed lightly in the breeze.
“I told that kid to put it by the wheat fields.” I mumbled to myself.
As I approached it, I saw that it wasn’t a scarecrow, but my farmhand hung by his neck.
NEWBORN
“I’m sorry sir, we weren’t able to save your wife.” The doctor told me, “But we were able to save the baby.”
I thanked the doctor and returned to my crocodile tears, cursing myself.
The whole reason I poisoned my wife was to rid myself of the child inside her.
The Missing Kids
One evening I was walking my dog and then it started to get dark so I turned around and went back home as I get closer I saw that the door was slightly opened and I saw chains I knew one of the 98 kids I escaped from the basement.
It is the 31st of October, it is Halloween.
It is a day to dress up as whatever you want,
you can be as spooky as a clown,
a day to have fun.
You get millions and billions of treats,
And you can even see your friends.
Oh, the moon is so bright,
hearing the werewolf’s howl.
Seeing bats flutter in the dark.
Watching witches fly across the sky,
Ghost going through walls,
furry spiders crawling of your back.
Carving pumpkins is so fun, seeing them light up!
I love Halloween,
Halloween is so fun.
Look for winners to be announced tonight at 8:30 eastern her on Every Writer! Happy Halloween.