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• Story may not be published elsewhere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.
HERE IS THE WINNER
I have picked 4 stories. They all have times and days on them. If the winner does not respond by Friday 11/22/19 the money will go to the next story on the list. Here are the top 4 stories in order. ONLY OUR 1st PLACE WINNER gets the $500. Also, so this insanity never happens again, the winner will be invited back next year to be one of the judges.
WINNER 1st Place:
Kit Steward 10/13/19 5:20 pm
THE MIDNIGHT INCUBATOR
She heard mushy sounds for days and suffered from unbearable itchiness.
A doctor’s visit revealed earwig pupae nesting in her ear canal, it was flushed out.
Later, weary from stress, she crawled into bed.
That night while she slept, the creature returned.
And finding the eggs missing, it laid more.
2nd Place:
Elizabeth Lee 09/24/19 4:36 pm
Secondhand Doll
She didn’t want a secondhand doll so she flung it across the room. Porcelain cracked against the wall. Her mom made her glue the pieces back together. A thin shard sliced her hand, baptizing the doll in her hateful blood. The secondhand doll decided she didn’t want an ungrateful child.
3rd Place:
Alexander Daley Escobedo 10/25/19 3:38pm
Heirloom
We Buried my brother today. Suicide. He thought something evil was haunting him. He’d been medicated, institutionalized, shocked and secluded. He found his own way out. I wish I could tell him I’m sorry. Or had listened more closely. Because, when I got home, it was on my couch. Laughing.
4th place:
JB 10/25/19 8:12pm
TITLE: RESEVOIR
We should have known something was wrong when we first tasted the water. It was a little brown, but no more than usual in this apartment complex.
We kept drinking it until it turned black.
When they opened the water tank, they found the bloated, rotting corpse of my neighbor.
We usually always contact the winners first, but after all the trouble, we are opening up the process. I am again, very sorry for how late this is. I did not expect 4000 stories. Next year I will be ready.
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Acquiesce
Flames leap red
The night is black
Once you are dead
You can’t come back
Arranged on your pyre
You will be burned
As the flames leap higher
Reaping that which you’ve earned
The seeds you’ve sown
The deeds you’ve done
They are yours alone
Just you and the Son
Mirror Me
I stare beyond my reflection, over the shoulder, to the shower, shampoos. Razors.
I have to look. “Every day,” my shrink said.
Blood drains south.
“Please,” I whisper, “let it be me.”
Same hair, throat, chin, cheeks.
Eyebrows.
Just do it.
Eyes to eyes. Equal watching.
I frown.
It smiles.
The Graveyard
On a dark stormy night as all horror dictates,
Ghosts walk past veils, dimensions and God’s pearly gates.
For heaven and hell vacancy raises the roof.
The wolves begin to howl as the spirits offer proof.
Spectres are life beyond death,
Those few chosen to haunt bemoan their last breath.
The Ghost
I awoke suddenly in a cold sweat. The murderous knife-wielding figure from my nightmare loomed in my mind. I fetched a cup of tea from downstairs. The air felt heavy and cold. When I returned to the bedroom, I froze. A body was in my bed. It was me.
Fear of Failure
The hardest part is keeping a happy face. Frown, and she’ll see something’s wrong, don’t force a smile or she’ll know something isn’t right. It’s worth it – children shouldn’t have to worry about their parents.
Years later, she curses you for being so distant. Christmas feels so empty these days.
IT’S ON THE ROOF
Some nights it cries in the dark, shadowed. Sweat filled pores, bulging eyeballs, frozen body consume, like the smell of rotting flesh, which devour the stench of sanity. It walks naked, a sorcerer’s alchemy. Watching, stalking, wailing, eerily grazing. It’s on the roof!
HEADLESS MEN
My eyes saw clearly, there was really no head but a pumpkin on his shoulders as he drew nearer holding a gun.
He became two persons and continued to multiply as they all aimed for me.
Bang!, it thundered.
Bullets went through me but I felt nothing and suddenly awoke.
A Planet Called Earth : A Short Horror Story
Being black, queer or a woman in a society primarily ruled by a patriarchal, capitalist,white supremacist, heteronormative structure and ideology system that by its very nature subjugates marginalized bodies by creating a system of inequality that essentially only functions towards benefiting the lives and experiences of cishet white men.
THE ROOMMATE
Despite the stories that I heard, I could not transfer hotel rooms for this was the one that I was assigned to. As if on cue, the lights started to flicker. I was awake, panicking all night after, for in fear that, even after one blink, she will come hither.
THE OCCUPANT
Upon entering the room, a large figure was lying on the bed. White eyes within an all-black frame pierced right through my soul.
“Yes, room is yours, sorry for disturbing,” I mumbled, closing the door and deciding that the lobby was a better place to sleep that night.
NOISE IN THE HALL
Thump.
I sit up in bed. Of course it’s the cat, it’s ALWAYS the cat, but I pull my lamp’s string anyways before lying back down.
She blinks at me in the sudden light.
Behind me, the door creaks as someone grasps the pullstring, plunging the room in darkness again.
THE PROMISE OF FOREVER
They said marrying her will be my worst nightmare. I ignored them and put that ring on her finger. Love, in fact, is all-accepting and forever. Twenty years and eighty seven burial sites after, I start to wonder if killing others for her hunger was worth to keep the fervour.
JUDGMENT DAY
“Seems you are all good. Welcome!”
The gates opened but only a bit.
“Oops, says here you lied to your wife about your money.”
“And so?”
“Sorry.”
I screamed as dark hands grabbed and pulled me out there and into the fire.
CRAWL
The doctor injected them, they came from his needles. They’re beneath me on the bed and pillows, slime against my skin, they bath the walls grunting loudly.
Crawling on the shower, sink, tap and curtains places my hand would touch, brown and curly. My skin melts, I sweat dripping worms.
~Tomorrow Night~
Black as raven feathers,
the night has no moon or stars.
I open my eyes but can’t really tell if they’re truly open.
Brought to the edge of a cliff, my toes cling to the rocky terrain.
“Jump,” says the voice.
“Trust me.”
The cliff starts shrinking.
I jump.
Worst Nightmare
Asleep in my dark bedroom, awakened by goosebumps emerging from my skin, I turned to see shadows moving along the hallway. My cracked voice shrieked “hey,” suddenly movement stopped! Praying, while slumbering back to sleep, a spirit jumps on top of me, shouting “it’s the end of the world!”
No Way Out
Stifled breathing, panicked gasps for air
The sound of shoveled earth grows ever quieter
Fingers, cracked and bloody against the splintered wood
It’s no use
Eyes blinded by tears
It wasn’t supposed to be me!
My throat has turned to paper, but still-
Above, a muffled scream
And then silence
The House
Every school had “that” house. The rumor mill.
A little ramshackle shed atop a wooded hill.
Missing kids would end up there, children whispered.
Ripped into pieces, bodies wet, crimson red.
Found missing your organs, your skin, your spine.
They spoke no lies, I realized
because that house was mine.
AT THE FUNERAL / closed casket requested
opening my eyes
is not an option. i rely on other senses.
sensations of damp, and faint aroma of roses and lavender.
arthritic fingertips wiggle through sheets, touching wall then ceiling.
muffled voices,
then organ music becomes loud.
my heart beats rapidly.
gasps for air.
my name said in prayer.
Grievous Victory
….he’s creeping into my soul and taking over my eyes
pulling me down and drowning me in darkness
he..he he’s taking over my mind like cancer
it’s fatal and deep in here but serene and solemn
I hear the voices of a thousand gone souls
howling, hallo ween is here
HOBGOBLIN
Come closer. Yes, another step. The smell of your marrow makes me hungry. Take another step. Down the stone staircase, below below. Among the bones, where I have soaked my cap in the blood of fools. One more step into the darkened scrim. Then I lock the door behind you.
ETERNAL RUTH
“…and they lived happily ever after,” she said tucking them in bed.
The twins loved visiting Ruth, she kept toy-filled closets for them.
Years passed and visits lessened.
As adults, they marveled at how youthful she remained,
never realizing, how fortunate they were that the witch was their aunt.
Floating
Aloft in the void
above herself,
she floats
an absence of sight, sound, and pain.
Inhaled breath
buoyant like a balloon
suspended in flight,
as her skin is peeled off
thread by thread
with bloodless surgical precision.
Her bones burst from her uncased skin
and she howls into the emptiness.
Drowning
The car comes to an abrupt stop, awakening me from my unconscious state. Darkness is everywhere. I’m paralyzed, or maybe bound by something, unable to move! My body feels cold and wet. What is happening to me? I open my mouth and try to scream, as water fills my lungs.
REAL OR NIGHTMARE?
I am sleeping, in my dream heard a voice calling my name and decided to check out. I saw a woman crying with a knife in her hand when I asked what happened she cut my hand and ran away. Then I woke up from my dream suddenly sweating and frightened and what I see ” BLOOD all over my hand”.
Man in black
She was running from a man when she went in to the bathroom
Too afraid to move she tried pushing her eyes far enough to see the mirror and she saw a man.
A warm breath caressed her neck. Nobody to save her.
“Found you” said the man in black.
Always Watching
They are watching, always watching. Every move you make….
Don’t make a mistake…
You can’t escape from them…
Rule 1: Always obey.
Rule 2: Don’t speak.
Rule 3: Don’t eat unless given food.
Rule 4: Don’t move unless asked.
Rule 5: Don’t cry.
Don’t run and don’t close your eyes.
GETTING LUCKY (?)
Her? 10. Me? 6. Hair? Red. Lips? Supple. Her. Me? Me! Dance. Magical. Kiss. Enticing. Her place. Floor. Kitchen. Whispers. Drink.
Blackout. Wake up. Foggy. Can’t move. Tied down? Restrained. Torches? Figures. Figures? Plural? Deer-skull masks. Naked. Knife. Cut. Pain. Blood.
“Shhhhh.” Her? Her!
“This will hurt.” Knife. Stomach. Scream.
Pumpkin Carving
It hurt as she was carving the rusted knife through my orange skin
“Jack-o-Lantern,” was all she said, over and over…
Blood dripped onto the floor.
My skin was on fire.
As she deftly peeled back my skin, my vision blurred, and I fainted…
It was all a dream… unless…
Motherly Love
She sewed my eyes, and my mouth.
She still loves me..
She doesn’t feed me or bathe me.
She still loves me …
She only yells at me.
She still loves me..
She cries out of her own pity when she sees me…
She still loves me…
She loves me, right?
Revenge
His hand slowly carressed her neck as she cried she had nothing to move. She would soon die. He had cought her, a knife to her throat barly touching her neck. “What are your last words” he asked. “Leave me alone!” she said. The next day he was found dead.
Below the Skin
A throbbing ache scattered my dreams. I ran a hand across the back of my knee but the cyst was gone. Stale sweat ran as I threw back the covers to reveal the lump on my thigh. It strained upward, pushing through muscle, in search of something sweet and tender.
I’M NOT ALONE
A chilled breeze swirls around me. It flows over my filthy sweat-drenched body. I stop shoveling and breathe it in. Horrible voices whisper to me. The red earth is damp and heavy with spent lives. Wiping my bloodied hands across my shirt, I look up again at the old headstone.
Stunts
Im walking down the street with my friend we try to upstage each other by doing the craziest stunts. I got him to eat some ants. I thought it was hilarious. I had to upstage him. I then weaved through the traffic I almost got to the other side too.
The Happy Husk
I awaken from my bed and begin to put on my skin suit. First my left leg, and then my right. I shimmy the skin over my torso, up towards my skull. The smile on the skin’s face takes hold as I zip up the spine. I’m … The Happy Husk.
Mirror Equivalents
Hands jumped from the mirror for my throat. Fast, I got to the doorway. Hands can’t pass thru doorways without a body. Safe! Didn’t know Claire had put a mirror by the door. She was checking her hair when dark, pointed nails pierced her soft neck. Blood splattering, mirror licking.
Futility
Mud covers my face, fills my mouth when I wake. A small space gives me air. He thought I was dead. I begin clawing my way out. Nails break. I will kill him, kill him, kill him. Sweet, sweet air greets me as I surface. Oh, God. He’s still there.
Chimera
It couldn’t help itself. It hated the things it did. Curled by the stoop, it cried its pain and self-loathing into the night. Rain poured down. A good man saw it, tiny lost kitten, drenched. He picked it up, warming it under his coat, then wailed as it consumed him.
The Bell
I ring the bell frantically, air heavy. Oh the darkness. My throat dry, struggling to call out. I am shivering. It so cold. My teeth are chattering. I ring it again and again. Prayers, reality, helplessness . “Help. Somebody.” I gasp. Ring. ” I’m here. Here in the grave. Help me. Somebody”
Marybeth
Marybeth is just little girl but when she wants something it happens. Jimmy pulled her hair and now she wants him hurt. Later today the coroner will wonder how a six year old boy can trip and fall in just the right way as to completely sever his spinal cord.
Abandoned School
“Don’t be such a wimp, Jenny! Uh-oh, there’s a dusty old desk, so spooky! Bet some kid died here and haunts the school! Oh ha-ha, you got my leg! I’m sooo scared! You can let go now, Jenny. Jenny? I can’t even see you. Jenny? Please let go. Please, Jenny.”
Birthright.
She was born in this world and the next. When she was young she was used up by bad people in high places. They drank her innocence for pleasure. Now she is cold enough to reach her power and slowly harvest their souls. Her past will pay for her future.
Happy Birthday to Me
The stench of fuel and decay hits me at the door. Whispers inside. A chorus of “Happy Birthday!” greets me. My family’s here. My brain screams. Odors increase. It’s always the same clothes. But the plane crashed! They are dead!
Reading my mind, my sister says, “As are you sis.”
Casting Spells is Muddy Business.
I drained the neighbor cat of all its blood this weekend. Filthy flea bag. But Now that little brat girl keeps posting signs and stirring things up. All that empathy in the air clogs the castin pathways. I’ll have to skin her instead. Human blood keeps longer anyhow.
The Bridge
I reached the crest of the bridge and there she stood. A figure in white. I swerved, coming to a halt just before the rail. I composed myself, looked around for her. Cars whizzing by beeping their horns. No One. I looked in my rear view mirror. Our eyes met.
Haunted
I started back at the ghost, looking into those sunken eyes and the face so hollow and drawn; a mere echo of the life it once was. When I could bear it no longer, for surely I would scream, I turned away from the mirror and continued to haunt myself.
LULLABY: THE GRAVE ON ROSETHORN HILL
A single rose, upon a hill
Marks the one, who many killed.
For sins assigned, though innocent,
A secret with which, we’re intimate.
Lay not awake, lest emerge hell’s groom,
He knows our greatest gloom.
Lie still, lie silent, lest a second rose bloom.
Alone.
I get scared when I’m alone…there are things that wait for me to think of them when I am alone…things that can feed off of me…and the only thing that protects me is if I deny they are real. I am afraid they know I am writing this.
Don’t Sleep
She lays me down, I must not sleep! For if i do, my soul she will keep.
She cradles me against her chest, softly humming her deadly lullaby
My eyes grow so heavy, it’s to late, for i have died.
Now i will spend eternity trapped here by her side!
Now or Never
Squeak!
The ravenous mouse stopped, listened, then quickly flattened his body against the baseboard. Prey was near.
Soon, he would eat meat dripping with blood and drink rich juice from decapitated insects.
He was so hungry. It was now or never.
Squish!
He never knew what hit him. How sad.
The End
When I open the book, I see my name. My hands tremble, but their hands take hold of mine. Such small, slimy hands.
“Go on,” they say.
“To what?”
“The end.”
Hundreds of meaningless pages skip by, moments meant for a lifetime reduced to seconds, saying:
“You’re ours now, human.”
Headless
He approached, bleeding sack in hand, and I saw he had no head.
I tried to run, but a force slammed me from behind. I toppled over.
The head rolled from the sack, smiled, loosed a laugh.
He had no head, yet I was the one who could not scream.
The Looming Horror
We don’t know what it is. We don’t know where it came from. A thousand stories tall, and wings of twice that, spread. Its shadow covers every city, its fingers grasp the mountains, its shadowy head blackens the sun. Tendrils of shadow cover lakes. It simply watches.
Scaredy Cat
Five year old Jimmy was home alone on this Halloween Eve. He found his missing cat meowing in the basement. Jimmy walked down the creaky stairs, only to be confronted by a dark silhouetted object. The cat scurried up the stairs, but no one ever saw Jimmy again.
Trick or Treat Nightmare
The neighborhood kids went Trick-Or-Treating for Halloween candy. An old house on the street was dark. Danny and his friends went up the steps and knocked on the door. A horribly disfigured man opened the door and blasted the kids with a flame thrower incinerating all of them.
WELL PICKED FRIENDS
What happened, we were so close?
We chose different paths on the same adventure.
I know things were tough, but I remained more civilized.
I had hopes of rescue.
You didn’t.
We just didn’t bring enough food.
You attacked me first.
I ate you, I ATE you…I ATE YOU!
Which Witch?
The beaked nosed old witch swept down among the trick-or-treaters, cackling that she would get each one. Strangely all the kids in costume soon vanished. Another witch, beautiful and nice, returned the kids from some unknown, scary place. They were all safe and happy again.
Death Takes A Bite
George was sweeping up the barn, when he heard a suspicious noise. He looked left; nothing. He looked right. The slime covered inhuman thing reached out for him. George screamed once. It was over. All police found that night was George’s body ripped to pieces. His head gone.
The screech of the owl echoed through the trees. The moonless night made every sound louder than normal. She knew death was coming. Soft, footsteps were getting closer. Thin,cold fingers grasped her pale throat. The silhouette was as familiar as her own. Death had found her this hallowed eve.
I’M FOREVER BONGING BUBBLES
“Damn stinking weed,” he said as soft skull gurgles trickled about his head.
A sound he’d heard before, just some blood, and nothing more.
Red clotted hiccups roused through the haze and thoughts of demise sparked ablaze.
Vessels popped, and bulged eyes bled, but not long after… The Dude was dead.
Her new tattoo.
Her haunted house tattoo was new. Raw and ready for me. Knife in hand, I stepped into the dead man’s ash pentagram. I prayed my love spell for her to the demon Azazel then cut my throat. Inside, the thermostat read 98.6 degree’s, so I opened the black ink window.
Marcy
Just change the tire yourself. It’s not hard, I’ll talk you through it. A truck? Is he going to help? Great. He has his own tire iron? Strange, right? What did he just say? Marcy? Run. JUST RUN. Marcy, get up! PICK UP THE PHONE. GOD, PLEASE PICK UP.
CRIES IN THE NIGHT
That old rooster, purchased off some odd fella years back, had to go.
They ate it that evening, the best dinner had in ages.
They slept, bellies full.
4 a.m. came soon for old man Cogburn.
“I’ll get another, later today,” he mused in the silence.
The sun never rose.
Dripping Smile
A scream echoes far down the street. Again.
Mary closes the windows, rolls down the shutters, turns the key twice in the lock. Whatever is outside will remain outside.
Silence.
Then a drop falls on the parquet.
Mary’s eyes grow wide. She slowly turns around.
Dripping smile.
Everything goes cold.
A PLACE OF ANCIENT EVIL
The haunted plot was cursed by Indians long ago.
Over centuries the malevolent soil has dined on corpses,
driven people mad with rage, beckoned others to ruin,
and played host to an unfathomable score of murders.
Drawing many, allowing few to leave; this magnetic evil has a name, New York.
A DOLL’S BEST FRIEND
My friend had beautiful eyes and the sharpest of teeth, all the better to grab me with and shake me, my ripped dress covered in drool. Now those eyes look beautiful in my head, and although I never knew dogs could see so few colors, her skin fits me well.
The Graveyard
Once there was a small town, Evermore. Evermore was surrounded by a forest. Evermore was a secluded town, it didn’t have any neighboring towns. In that town lived 3 cousins. There names were Alex, Arely, and Miranda. They were each separated by one year of age. Alex being 16, Arely being 15, and Miranda being 14. Alex was tall, had brown eyes, dark skin, and curly hair. Arely was tall, had brown skin, brown eyes, and a light brownish colored hair. Jaslin was tall, had light skin, brown eyes, and dark hair. Alex was very chilih or his age. He liked to pull pranks and other jokes. Arely was really mature for her age. She was kind of mysterious in her own way. Miranda was really clumsy, she would fall a lot. She also had a really bad temper. One day, the cousins got tired of their boring everyday lives. They had decided to go exploring in the forest surrounding their town. Surprisingly, the forest was never visited by the town’s people. If they did visit the forest, they would mysteriously disappear. They went exploring for the whole day, until they noticed that it was starting to get dark. They decided to head back to their town, but once they got in sight of Evermore, a heavy fog set in. The misty, thick fog had settled in perfectly with the darkness, making it harder for them to find their way.
Anxiously Miranda said, “I knew we shouldn’t have left.”
Arely had snapped, “Shut up, you were the one who wanted to go exploring.”
Miranda’s temper started to rise as she barked, “I didn’t mean in the forest!”
Alex interrupted them saying, “Did you guys hear that?”
Miranda shouted, “Hear what?!”
Then out of nowhere, they heard a blood-curdling scream that made the hair on the back of their necks stand.
Alex said, “We have to get back home now.”
Since it had gotten dark and there was fog, they couldn’t remember the way they had come. Miranda said, “We could go through the old cemetery that’s close to the town.
Alex and Arely both simultaneously said, “Aren’t you scared?”
Since Miranda was the youngest, they liked to make fun of her and scare her.
She hissed, “It’ll get us home faster, won’t it?”
They all agreed, and started their way to the cemetery. As they were walking, Alex decided to go ahead of them to pull a prank. He had found a really big tombstone to hide behind. As Alex hid behind the tombstone, he felt the cold gravel against his skin. He was excitedly waiting there to scare his cousins. Until he felt a light tapping on his shoulder. Thinking it was his cousins finding him he turned around defeatedly.
He said, “Alright, you guys got me.”
He expected to see his cousins smiling victoriously for finding him, but instead he saw no one. Thinking it was just his imagination, he decided to go look for Arely and Jaslin. Just as he was about to go he felt something grab his leg. He looked down to find an arm grabbing his leg. When the arm had grabbed his leg, he felt a coldness that resembled the hand of death. The arm looked like a decayed, rotten, disgusting piece of flesh. Trying to break free he saw two silhouettes walking towards him. Thinking it was Miranda and Arely he started to relax. Unfortunately it wasn’t, it was two men.
Confused he questioned, “Who are you?!”
Instead of a response, there was a groaning sound as they got closer. As the men got closer to him, the foul stench of death got stronger. When they got close enough to Alex, he saw worms coming out of their decayed skin. One of the creatures had a missing arm. Coming to the conclusion that they weren’t human, he knew they were zombies. He kicked off the arm that was grasping his leg, and went running. He finally caught up with his cousins.
He said, “There are zombies in this cemetery, we have to get out of here!”
The girls didn’t believe him since he loved to pull pranks. They were about to yell at him for scaring them, until they heard a groaning behind them. They ran without exchanging any words to each other. They ran until they finally got to Evermore. They went to Alex’s house, terrified to see what was on the other side, they opened the door. As they opened the door, they saw the inside of the house destroyed. The furniture was thrown all over the living room. There were shattered dishes on the floor. They saw some cans of food thrown on the floor. They decided to get food to take with them, they were starving. The food that they had found was so horribly bland, but it did fill them.
Miranda complained, “This food is disgusting.”
Alex said, “As long as it keeps you full, you shouldn’t be complaining.”
Just as Miranda was about to argue, they heard the door knob rattling. They all stopped what they were doing to look at the door. Then it slammed open, revealing a group of zombies.
Alex shouted, “We have to get out of here now!”
They all darted to the back door to escape, when Alex and Arely heard a thud. It was Miranda, she had tripped over her own feet and was lying on the ground.
She shouted, “Run, save yourselves!”
The zombies were getting closer to her, the stereotype that zombies are slow isn’t true. They’re actually fast, they had already been 10 feet away from Miranda in the blink of an eye.
Arely was making her way back to Jaslin saying, “We can’t leave you to die!”
As the disgusting creatures got even closer Alex said, “We have to go now!”
He grabbed Arely as he sobbed, “We’ll see you on the other side!”
As they left, Miranda whispered, “I’ll see you later, buddies.”
Arely and Alex were running, until Arely broke down sobbing.
She was saying, “I can’t believe she’s dead.”
Alex said, “I know this is bad, but we have to watch out for more zombies.”
Arely screamed, “You monster, don’t you have any feelings? Our cousin just died!”
Alex shouted, “Of course I have feelings! I can’t let you die because of me, like Miranda!”
Arely looked surprised that he had broken down like that. She had regretted saying those awful things about him not caring.
She said, “I’m sorry, I’m just upset because of what happened.”
Alex said, “I know, but we have to be careful.”
Arely had agreed, and then they made their way down the dimly lit street. They heard footsteps, and quickly hid behind an alley. It was a group of zombies, they looked like they were starving. Alex was too busy worrying about the ones in front of him, that he didn’t see the one coming from behind. Before the disgusting flesh eating monster got to him, Arely pushed him out of the way. As the zombie bit a chunk of Arely’s flesh off, the whole alley had a stench of fresh blood.
Alex screamed, “Noo!!”
He had ran away from the horror scene that was right next to him.
He was screaming and sobbing, “Why them? Why couldn’t it have been me?”
He felt absolutely terrible. There was a horrible feeling in his gut and chest. He blamed himself for letting his little cousins die. He decided to go back into the forest. He once again, found the cemetery. He made two crosses out of broken branches, to honor the death of his cousins. He was grieving, until he heard fast, thundering footsteps getting closer to him.
He thought, “Of course, of course they’ve come back for me.”
As he turned around expecting to find a group of zombies ready to take the last thing he had, he froze in shock. He did see a group, but he saw two that made him start shaking. They both had an unbelievable resemblance to his cousins. He wasn’t in the right state of mind anymore, without thinking, he walked towards the group. Not knowing his fate, he hugged them.
He thought, “I saved them, they’re okay!”
That was the last thought he had before his death.
The End
THE EXPERIMENT
George hated washing his own dishes.
Nightly he’d tuck a filthy plate into his closet and forget about it.
Weeks later while looking in the junk-filled nook something slimy grabbed hold of his arm.
Startled, he thrashed about in terror, and with an awful crashing sound, George Petrie died.
NIGHT VISION
Drafts in darkness flicker the candle’s flame.
Silence.
A second airy whiff snuffs a lone speck of dancing amber.
No matchbox in reach.
Smoke lingers, wispy ghosts unseen in the onyx miasma.
Perception stings.
Another spark ignites an invisible wick, lit in a much darker place.
And things stir.
Narrators. They’re immortal, and control your mind. Particularly one. That wretched man! I was manipulated! I had a family and friends, but I killed them all! Their suffering still rings inside. Why? Because that’s what I was told. I’m trapped in his mind and command! Guess what? Ha! You’re next.
“Not Right”
Eating cereal, I look out the window. It’s hard to see anything in the fog. I hear groups of eerily familiar screams from outside, and I walk to the window to get a better view. Nothing’s there. I turn around and I see my family smiling … a little too much.
What’s In There?
A sour odor assaulted my senses stepping through the blackness. Using the crowbar, I prided open the lid of the coffin shining the light inside to see it was empty. The feel of a bony hand with rotting flesh closed over my nose and mouth as my flashlight went out.
The Box
I had been warned not to open the box. I was told it was cursed, but I didn’t care. Its crimson color faded from the centuries of dirt. Slowly I lifted the lid. A black mist rose from inside wrapping itself around my neck until I could no longer breathe.
What Was That?
It was the scream that woke me from my sleep, a loud, ear-piercing scream. Was I awake? Was I still asleep? I heard the scream again, louder, closer this time racing down my spine. I looked down to see the bedsheets covered in blood realizing the scream came from me.
The Ghost
I awoke suddenly in a cold sweat. The murderous knife-wielding figure from my nightmare loomed in my mind. I fetched a cup of tea from downstairs; the air felt heavy and cold. When I returned to the bedroom, I froze. A body was in my bed. It was me.
A Winter Walk
John ventured slowly into the woods, an icy wind striking his face. Frozen leaves crumbled beneath him, turning to ash. The gaping maw of a frostbitten forest slowly closed in, brittle branches grasping at him. Biting. Chewing. A frozen gale burst from a blackened forest. But there was no John.
Skipper
A doctor and his two nurses went to the school on Friday to vaccinate children.
“An outbreak is impending,” they said. “This is a government-mandated cure.”
Maria skipped school that day. She was the only one out.
On Monday morning, the whole class puked blood. Maria felt fine, though.
Alone?
I’m alone. In my car. The only one on the old, twisting road. Through the forest. In the dark. In the rain. In the storm. I’m alone. I grip the wheel. I stare ahead. I’m alone. But… for the breath on my neck. And the eyes in the mirror.
JOE PAUL’S GHOST
Midnight’s gone, work’s done, light’s off. Silence. The silhouette glided through the closed glass-panelled door, to Madonna’s picture. Obeisance paid, it turned my way. A deadly dread engulfed me, froze my blood. Joe Paul saluted, then floated silently into the dark corridor. I dared not laugh anymore.
Urban Exploration: Under the Old Mental Institution
It was just an unexpected breath of cold air in the basement that made the hairs on her neck stand up. It was just the plumbing clanging till she heard a sigh. Then she thought it was just her own shadow, but it kept moving, circling her, hissing in spite.
By using the word “just” three times in the first three sentences makes me not want to read any further.
“Just” is one of the weakest words in English writing.
Hope you take this well,
Paul — (Editor for 20-plus years). MS in Journalism — U.F.
SHADOWS
We were on the play ground, but one after the other my friends had disappeared leaving me alone.
The wind whistled and howled. Six shadows appeared on the wall facing me, one for each of them.
I screamed but my voice was lost, the shadow man with red eyes returned.
HIS MOTHER’S EYES
He sat hunched forward on the rocking horse, swinging back and forth.
Blue eyes twinkling.
Smiling. Laughing.
That’s how I found him two days ago. Alone. Strangely unafraid.
Parents?
I conducted an interview. With a two-year-old.
“Muth-er.”
It’s there. The answer. In the eyes.
Cupped in his tiny hand.
NEVER ENDING
One cold night. I was lying on my bed. No. I saw myself lying on the bed, sleeping. My mind’s telling me it’s just a dream that I should wake up. So I’ve tried moving my body and scream.
From there I woke up…
woke up inside a dream…
again.
THE REQUEST
If I asked you to cheat for me, would you?
-Yes.
If I asked you to steal for me, would you?
-Of course.
If I asked you to lie for me, would you?
-Absolutely.
If I asked you to die for me, would you?
-Suddenly, there came a chilled silence.
THE UN-SETTEE-LING
The attendant stared at the sad green couch in the dump’s hauling trailer.
From his shed, he reflected on its storied history all day.
Light rains came at the end of shift.
Leaving work, he knew; if the mildewed fibers seeped ruddy stains, it’d all be hauled away by midnight.
SUSAN IWANISZIW
RAPTORS RISING
At dawn, I shiver among the brittle reeds. Soon, the river’s silt will consume my flesh and bones. If I’m lucky.
The songbirds’ brouhaha alerts me to the raptors on the thermals, in search of meat.
Survival is folly, but I slip into the water to live one more day.
Dual Identity
He was a physician by day and a murderer by night. He concluded that those he killed were disreputable women; and thus, they were not a great loss to society.
Someone was following him the past few nights. Suddenly, he shuddered. There couldn’t be another, not another Jack the Ripper?
BOBBY KNOCKER, OF SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS, COME ON DOWN!
Spotlights danced, landed on the contestant’s face.
“Million-dollar question,” said the host.
“How old were your twins when you murder-raped them?”
The contestant hesitated.
“Twelve, lock it in”.
The lights went red.
“Awww, correct answer was twelve months!”
The host pushed a button, plunged the contestant into fire and brimstone.
Secrets
Written by: Nissa Velez
She sat staring into the abyss at the mirror on her floor. The dark circles under her eyes spoke volumes only she knew covered the secret she was hiding. Her hands were dry and cracked as she picked at the dead skin making them bleed. She was used to the pain. She was used to seeing red liquid drip from her fingertips and onto the floor. She didn’t care that the sounds of the sirens were racing closer. It was in due time that they’d find out what she’d done.
The clock on the wall ticked on, a slow melody that counted the seconds of your life that went wasted. Wasted time only makes for a wasted life. She laughed to herself, smearing the red from her fingertips onto her lips, tasting her own blood. How many people went on wasting time when they could be making the most of it. Like she was doing. The circles under her eyes reflecting the time she made sure did not slip from her cracked hands.
The rain pounded against the window, echoing through the room like a drum that played along with the clock. She focused on herself in the mirror. Her eyes were twinkling with a sinister glare, her lips shriveled and glossy as she smirked at herself. She knew what she’d done. She didn’t regret it for one moment. The sirens continued to echo through the room as she continued to pick at her dead skin.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
She knew what she’d done. As soon as her eyes focused on the mess she’s made, the foul stench that lingered, and the lifeless energy that filled the room. It was a matter of time before they would come looking for her. It was a matter of time before they would find her. It was a matter of time before they would be standing before her, snatching her up and sticking in her a stale room that filled her mouth with the taste of metal. Questioning her on why she did what she needed to do. Questioning her on if she regretted what had happened? Questioning her on whether or not in that sick, rotting soul stood a dark, black heart? Questioning her and questioning her and questioning her.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
“His Mother’s Eyes” (Revised: Correct Word Count)
He sat hunched forward on the rocking horse, swinging back and forth.
Blue eyes twinkling.
Smiling.
That’s how I found him two days ago. Alone. Strangely unafraid.
Parents?
I conducted an interview. With a two-year-old.
“Muth-er.”
It’s there. The answer. In the eyes.
Cupped in his tiny hand.
MONSTERS
by: Nissa Velez
I knew he was dead. As soon as I walked into the room, the foul stench filled my nostrils and made every hair on my neck stand on end. It was like the smell of sex. The craving that throbbed low and rose by the minute, made me ache with need. But who did this?
One, two, I’m coming for you. You know who did this.
His body laid on my bed. It didn’t look like he was tortured, he looked as if he were peacefully sleeping. But I knew that smell. I knew he was dead. For how long though? I couldn’t tell. How long had his lifeless body been lying on my bed. On my new sheets. One hundred percent Egyptian cotton now ruined with the stench of death.
One, two I’m coming for you. You know who did this.
What am I going to do with the body? Should I call for emergency services? They’ll ask questions. Assume it was me. The imprint of the body would remain in my bed, the smell will attract the monsters of the night.
He’ll come again.
One, two, I’m coming for you. You know who did this.
THE LOVE POTION
“You told me to move on,”
It’d been several years since he loved her.
“But I have…”
Trish cracked a rib-cage, retrieved a shriveled heart; and ground the leathery wad in a mortar.
“something, for you.”
She offered a specially made drink for the male guest in the living room.
FELLINI AND FRIENDS’ FELONIOUS FRIDAY
Piles of dogs laid lifeless in a wasteland around a fire.
Felines, paw-in-paw, rang around the rosy, chanting. The elder signed canine blood into a ledger.
The sky rent, their god appeared, scooped the dogs into its mouth.
It choked, spit up a river of blood that flooded the Earth.
Toast
The heat was intense.
It scorched his face and burnt his hair. The portal glowed an dark red. The longer he stayed there the worse it got, but he couldn’t leave; invisible forces held him in place.
A creature came by a while latter and said “Yum, I love toast.”
DARK ANATOMY
By: Nissa Velez
There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Can you hurry up?” My old lady. Old. Just like the man that stared back at me in the mirror. She was grey too. As much as she tried to cover it up by dying her hair the darkest color she could find in the drug store. She never spoke a positive remark to me anymore. That disgusting tongue of hers made my fingers twitch with an urge like never before.
But maybe today will be different. Maybe today I’ll cut that foul tongue of hers out of her head. Maybe today will be different.
DEMONS
By: Nissa Velez
The monsters under my bed call to me. They say my name in whispers, blowing through my hair like the wind.
They want my demons to join them in their inner battles of hell.
They don’t know though that my demons will win. The inner monster in me always does.
ZOINKS
The five researchers entered the forbidden house.
Thelma drew pentagrams on the dusty floor.
Scruffy quickly smudged them away. “Are you crazy, d’ya want to attract angry spirits?”
“They’re not real…” she said anguished.
Sinister disembodied voices cackled, and furniture crashed violently to the floor squishing the group’s mascot, Poopy.
Butter
It started with the cows.
An invisible sickness,
No one found out till it was too late.
It started with the feed.
A mass of chemicals,
Hindsight is twenty-twenty.
It started with the scientists.
Who tried there best,
It wasn’t enough.
It ended with the people.
Now they’re all dead.
In The Corner He Lays
Parents warn their children not to play.
In the corners when the sun has gone away.
The children who do they say
Are still not found to this day.
In all corners he lay
Waiting patiently for his prey.
How many must pay
When they wander where he lay. End
Fingers & Toes
I have ten fingers and ten toes.
Same as every human.
Ten knuckles and ten joints
Same as every human
I use them to feast
Just like a human
I use them to grasp and hold
Nothing can get away
Gnarled, twisted, sharp and
Grotesque
Just like a human
The tale of Julian the child eater
He came in the night. He went into the nursery and grabbed the sleeping child. He reached for his knife. Carefully he opens the child up and ate it’s liver. Ten more children fell to his depraved appetite. The police never found him. He’s still out there, and he’s hungry.
The Bus
The children were loud like they always are.
Little Danny was crying.
Jill and Holly were squealing about something, as girls tend to do.
Jim missed his stop.
Ellie wished she had been assigned to any other bus but this one.
All because the driver fell asleep at the wheel.
Zacks band trip.
His first introduction to the cult happened in 8th grade when he joined after school band. They lured him with promises of new friends and fun times. He didn’t realize untill he got on the bus that he was not a member. He was he sacrifice. Beware the marching band.
Dis-Grace
The child was born on Friday the 13th. Instantly it was proclaimed a witch, a monster, and a disgrace. The only proper response was to put it to death. 30 The village bore the child to the ocean. They threw the disgrace to the sharks. It was over in seconds.
The sad case of Ellie and April.
It started as a simple bonfire, but as the sun went down it all changed. April watched with a cold eye as the flames grew. The voices in the shadows taunted him, and pushed him. In turn he pushed Ellie. Right into the flames, and he laughed as she burned
BITE
I feel the bumps on my neck for the hundredth time today. Two of them, red and raised. I’m sure it’s nothing.
Sarah walks in dressed in my t-shirt. “Ready for bed?” she asks. I study her curves through the thin material. My eyes come to rest on her neck.
THE BOOK RAPPORT
The storm faded and Agatha enjoyed the thriller by candlelight.
A misty vapor arose from floorboards behind her chair,
it coalesced into a horrid shape and inched closer.
The woman read, suspended in silence.
Closer it came.
Closer still.
Something sinister cracked over her shoulder. “Good book?” blurted the creature.
A dog had killed the home invaders. There was no blood on the dogs in the home.
“Which of your dogs protected you, Miss?” he asked.
“Bear,” she replied.
“Where is he?” he wondered.
“He died thirteen years ago,” she replied.
He watched as she made a cup of tea.
Longing
“Ellen? Ellen, baby. It’s me,” he called. But it was something else that came, mastered by a searing, unbending longing.
He still called for her, even as the thing that had once been Ellen took her husband’s face in her hands and pulled it longingly towards hers for the last time.
The Noise in the Basement:
It’s Halloween. Kids in costumes are out in search of treats. A miserly old man lives in a mansion on a hill nearby. Eerie and mysterious sounds come from the basement. Someone looks in the basement window. He screams and vanishes in thin air.
THE RING
“With this ring,” she said, “I do, thee, wed.”
She forced the ring onto my finger, and smiled.
I winced.
The ring felt tighter than it did at the jewelers.
It got tighter.
I cried out as the ring squeezed my finger off.
She picked it up, and ate it.
A MIDNIGHT RENDEZVOUS
“Alli?” Jim shouted, shivered beneath the rain under the weeping willow. They’d agreed to meet here at midnight to run away, together.
Something wrapped around his body. Before he could scream, countless vines covered him, sucking him into the willow.
“Jim?” Alli called out, running under the willow. “Where are-“
HER CRIMSON DESIRE
Abby straddled him, running her fingers over his chest.
“You are wild, girl.” He said.
“Shh” she whispered, drawing an ornate dagger from her boot.
“I must hear her,” Abby whined.
“What?”
She thrust the dagger into his chest, again and again. Crimson poured, and Abby heard her song again.