$500 Halloween 50 Horror Word Story Contest 2019

in Featured/Fun for Writers

Welcome to our 2019 $500 Halloween Horror 50 Word Story Contest. Yes, that’s right. It’s already here. Every year we run our contests, and those of you who have been frequent readers, this is what you’ve been waiting for.

First we will be doing a print issue! We will be doing 2 print issues, and we will pick entries from this contest to be in our issue. If you had a 50 word story designated to be in our print issue, from a past contest, please contact us.

Second, we will be giving out a $500 reward for the best 50 word horror story. This is not easy for us. Every Writer is not doing as well as it did in the past, but we want your stories. I believe writers should get paid for their work. I wish we could pay all of our writers, but it’s just impossible. So $500 for 50 words, I think is a unique and valuable statement to our readers. Ten dollars a word is what all writers really deserve.

So here are the rules:

• Story must be scary
• Story must be 50 words
• Story must be original and your own
• Story may not be published elsewhere
• Story must have a title (does NOT count in word count)
• Deadline is October 25, 2019
• Enter as many times as you want
• Story must be written in the comments below!
• Be nice or be disqualified

I love these stories. This is one of favorite traditions of Every Writer. I look forward to this every year, and this year I have extended the time we are going to spend with the contest.

The winners will:

• Be announced on October 31, 2019
• Will get $500
• Will be published in our digital and print issue.
• Will get an author page on our site

There is no entry fee for this contest. It would help us out greatly if you would donate 1$ or more, if you can, to help out the site. We would really appreciate it. A donation will not be considered in the deciding this contest.

If you want to keep up with me on Twitter, please follow me at @everywriter, I follow back all writers.

Good luck, and let the writing begin.

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. “The Man in the Wide-Brimmed Hat”

    It was the melatonin, I tell myself. I was nursing, tired.
    But when I woke up screaming, all seven feet of him taunting me from between her crib and me, I knew he was real.
    I still see him in the corner on nights I can’t stop myself from looking.

  2. Cold Case

    “ No. Please don’t. I beg of you.” The psycho lowered him into the well. “Please, don’t… Ahh,” he cried. “Something’s here.”
    Detective Susan Stone got a lead and found the body. The corpse was surrounded by skulls with bloody teeth.
    Neither she, nor anyone who found her, were seen again.

  3. “Don’t Think of Pink Elephants”

    Telling yourself not to think of something guarantees the thought will cement itself in your mind. We were doomed as soon as we discovered the artifact beneath the sea.

    Don’t think about It or It will come.

    The Blight is coming now that we know. The stars are going out.


    About to come to a boil, frenzied natives dance. My hot tub has no jets- just carrots and onions bobbing up and down. Then, on the edge of the camp, he came into view- Stanley! I’m saved! He approached with the chief and said, “Dr. Livingstone- our dinner- I presume.”


    Raoul made boisterous last minute demands for Giovanni’s raviolis.

    After serving him, the waitstaff focused on cleaning and remained absent.

    He was found later, blood-drained and dead.

    The police were baffled by tiny bites on his tongue and the sauce trail that zigzagged from his mouth to the table’s edge.

  6. SKIP

    “Great job Skip,”Joe said, holding up the gotten case (his evil he said). “He won’t be able to cast his horrible spells.” I howled and held the bloody hammer in the air, “Skip, warlock hunter!” Joe patted me on the back (he really likes me!). “Joe, I like killing warlocks.”

  7. The Lady in White

    “Daddy, did anyone ever die in this house?” The five year old girl asked.

    “As a matter of fact someone did. But how did you know that?”

    “She told me last night. She says she used to sleep in my room and she’s never leaving. I think she likes me”

  8. “The Sacrifice”

    Their masks are made of fine porcelain with dead white eyes. They chant in ancient tongues to elder gods.

    Woodsmoke fills your lungs and you would scream if you had a voice left in you.

    One of them pushes a shallow basket under your head. Another raises a brown-stained saw.


    A seance -a joke, a lark- but a spirit arose! Entering the Dugans’ mastiff- 200 pounds!- he’s laid waste to Higgins and now has the constable’s manhood in his mouth. Shotgun in hand, he’s stopped cold, but with his death cry, he’s summoned the hounds of Hell through crashing windows.


    Nobody believed me. The sidewalk, all those black dots- gum, tar? I got down and looked real close- they aren’t solid! They’re holes. I dropped a quarter in one- gone. Then there was the rat- squeak then gone. I tried to tell people. They didn’t listen- baby ga-ga, then gone!


    Mirrors don’t reflect you they show a monster. Just hope it never seas you sleep or it will latch its tentacles on you and drain your blood. For the monster behind the mirror needs only your blood to become you. So ask yourself this. How many live among us.


    Lithium, Seroquel, Paxil, Ativan, and Celexa. So I take 5, about right for Bipolar. But I have questions of him -without the mask and me on the couch. Mainly why do I cry and want to die? So I visit his home with hammer and knife. Just to ask questions.

  13. The Witch’s Crystal

    The crystal cluster shimmered and glowed in the full moon’s light. She pricked her finger on the jagged point.
    Her blood flowed onto the crystal. Her soul was instantly pulled into the cluster. “New meat for us,” the demons chanted. No one could hear the witch’s screams.

  14. Donald Trump And The Zombie Apocalypse

    Only those in the blue states were not infected. The remaining citizens who supported the President became zombies for his military.
    When he achieves dictatorship, those spared attempt to escape his territory of loyalist by hiking through the Appalachian trail from Georgia to Maine. Few will Survive the Journey.

  15. Overtime 

    “I saw them pouring cement through the night,” she told the officer.

    “No one was on shift.”

    “Someone’s under there.” She pointed, shaking, to the bridge’s fresh surface.

    His sunglasses hid an eye-roll. A close inspection revealed not a single hand emerging from the hardening surface. Only a foot.

  16. THE PIMP

    She handed me the money- another lucky one infected. No not AIDS (they’re going to wish it was AIDS). They recruited us to spread the affliction far and wide- there are millions of us. A motive you ask? I guess THEY just want to have fun. I know I am.


    The baby monitor used to be just baby noises, until one day, the transmissions came. They talked of conspiracies like Kennedy, 9-11, Apollo, and Sandy Hook. And it’s ‘them’ confessing it all! I Haven’t heard from the baby in a while. It’s more important that I write it all down.


    I was overcome by an urge to grab the baby and slam it to the ground, end zone celebration style. But I’m no baby spiker. Hell, I even like babies. I even like this baby- plump, happy, downright gurgly. My doctor said it’s just a side effect of the anti-depressants.

  19. If Only She Knew

    In my head is the safest place to kill. There’s no crime in thinking. I fantasize about taking a life and it becomes harder to keep it in my head.
    “What are you thinking about?” She smiles at me. I shrug and decide she’ll be my first.

  20. LIGHT

    Gradually everyone became light. They are formed- man, woman,child- and do the usual things they always did. I am not light. I can walk through them- no heat, no cold, no sound. Sometimes I go to the ice rink, stand arms out, and let them skate through me. Alone.


    We filled the stadium- the flood!- now can’t leave. Toilets, food, shelter- all needs met somehow. But now, during sleep, they’re snatching us one at a time. Then things are gone- a leg, an ear, fingers surgically removed. Some say they’ve seen our captors. They come back with no eyes.

  22. Co-sleeping

    I hear my three year old son’s bedroom door open at midnight. The familiar sound of tiny feet pad down the hall. As my door knob slowly turns, a giggle escapes from behind the door. I start hyperventilating. I won’t open my eyes this time. He died four months ago.

  23. Madusa writes in blood

    I’m drenched in blood. In the moonlight I see The words IT’S YOUR TURN written in blood on my wall. I look in the mirror snakes hiss and lick the blood off my face. My husband lays next to me and crumbles under the touch of my hand.

  24. “The Passage”

    What awaits you in the end is the void.

    When you die, follow the passage with no walls, on which the weight of outer space heavily rests. Head for the light. Whatever you do, don’t look back and beware the thing which stalks the dark, the thing with needle teeth.

  25. Closing Time

    Closing time, when we play.
    Prey is coming,
    checking camera’s, watching everything.
    Clock hit 1 am, when fun time begins.
    Hours of messing with them,
    creeping the halls ready to pounce.
    When least expected.
    We stop.
    6 am comes around waiting for next time.
    Closing time is when we play.

  26. There’s comfort in the smell of you that makes me feel at home. When I feel lonely I nestle your sweater with my nose. The closer we are the safer I feel. So I step into your home. As I stroke your smooth skin, draped upon mine, I feel ethereal.

  27. The Wild Mouse

    On Halloween night, in 1965, the roller coaster flew off the track. People flew out of the cars like stones shot from a sling. The Wild Mouse crashed into a crowd of onlookers. They dismounted The Wild Mouse in 1966. It was America’s last wooden roller coaster.

  28. Her Eyes.

    Her eyes were beautiful. Hazel, with sparkling flecks of gold. Sometimes, I wondered how they’d look like, brimming with tears. Soft with love. Burning with passion. If only she would one day look into my eyes with the same devotion. I sigh, and place her eyes back into the jar.

  29. Happy Haunting

    I was having fun haunting him, that’s true. Swiping books off shelves, whispering taunts in his ear. Over the months, I saw his sanity slipping. I liked it. The power. Then one day, he hanged himself. And icy dread filled my heart, as his spirit took form next to me.

  30. TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide


    Light and shadow played across his gaunt face, highlighting his cheekbones and burying his eyes. I could not go with him. I would not.

    I couldn’t choose this, could I?

    In answer, Death pointed to the body swaying from the rafters.

    I had chosen. Too late to turn back now.


    “I hate this place!” a boy screams.

    An embarrassed family enters the church.

    “I’d chomp apples with razor blades to watch him smear shit on a priest.” a shadow whispers.

    “After the crash, he’s ours to corrupt.” a raspy reply.

    Malevolence creeps into an empty car and waits in silence.

  32. Validity.

    Sharply awoken from my slumber, a demon stares at me in the dark. Eyes, fierce; face, blending. Claws competing with fingers.
    Jaws drop, exposing fangs of a canvas: red, grey; collage of flesh and bones. Legs fail, faces clash, canvas transforms into mirror pieces painted in red.

  33. I always knew it existed. The creaky floorboard. Hollow. The small wooden box within that once was yours. I know what you hid inside, daddy. It ruined me forever. I opened it and counted. Twenty fingers. How pretty. I closed the lid carefully with my middle, the index a stump.


    An unresponsive audience ignores the street mime’s invisible box routine.

    Anguished, the performer produces an imaginary wand, and with a flick, demon hordes appear, ripping the crowd asunder.

    In the transparent sanctuary, he waits out the carnage before casting the creatures away.

    Exiting the box, he collects well-earned, blood-soaked tips.


    My waiter- Zombie Jesus- served me my Denny’s free birthday meal. He brought me brains, so I complained. He took me back where 12 illegal aliens scooped out rat brains from warm tiny skulls. I said, “No! This is no birthday gift.” So he gifted me an autographed Bible instead.

  36. “The Man in the Mask”

    I drew near to see if that person wearing a mask could help me. They stood at the end of the hallway of the abandoned police department wearing an officer’s uniform.

    I called out, but no answer. Finally I reached them.

    “Can you help?” I asked. My famous last words.


    A hapless victim struggles in a dingy kitchen, and a cleaver-wielding maniac savors the terror.

    Roaches scurry into trash-strewn corners as unsure feet slip upon gore spattered tiles.

    Dozens of unanswered pleas fall prey to psychopathic desires.

    After frenzied hefting and hacking, long harbored schizoid delusions trickle, ebb, and cease.

  38. Billy’s Guide

    Billy, suddenly awake, was no longer trapped in the coffin. He stood under a street light.
    Outside the lights circle there was darkness, and stench.
    “Stay in the light. There’s an evil entity lurking in the darkness.” A hand with three claws reached out. “Let me guide you to safety.”

  39. Homeroom, 7:30 am

    “You’ll always be my hostage.”
    Those words. Oh, how they pierced through that calcium
    cage of hers, injecting rich terror and obedience.
    Defeated, the host slumped, combating fiery tears.
    Nobody noticed. How could they?
    Her assailant was invisible, after all.
    “Don’t you forget now,” it added with a knowing smile.

    • Hungry Eyes

      The coins in Joseph’s hand are new and shiny, silver fish flopping around on land. When his parents flee to work, he becomes a passenger of the dark Nantucket night. Frigid wind from the Atlantic stirs up the humid air; eminent, exciting, deadly. It watches him with hungry eyes.


    He answered the add- said he was a vampire- I should meet him here. He arrived, but misunderstood, handing me a vile of white powder. “Nooo,” I screamed, “it’s immortality I crave,” smashing his skull with a rock. I tasted the powder, then spit. I sniffed, then licked his wound.

  41. A Night At Henson House

    I stayed in the house on a dare. It’s a rite of passage for all teens. You have to stay all night and ignore the faces in the mirrors or you will never get respect.

    Now they scream when they see me watching them. I won but I never left.


    Bloodied fingers move toppled rock in a dank cavern.

    A headlamp dwindles black.

    Progress measured inches by hour, stayed, as the sickness of greed seals a man’s fate.

    Hours Pass…

    Bedazzling torchlight pierces darkness and gouges orbits into cindered hollows.

    Agonized cries reverberate through smoky shafts, and a leprechaun laughs.

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