Welcome to our 2022 50 Word Horror Story “for the promos contest” contest. This is our long cold winter contest. Everyone seems to like these, we are giving out ads on our site and social media.. Bragging rights and promotions are the prizes. This will be a long running contest. Our deadline will be May 1, 2022. 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 May 1, 2022
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 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.
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It all started after the funeral, as the rain pouring and thunder the lightning clashes.
A sound of the tapping on the window.
Just as a chill ran down my spine, as a hand grabbed me for behind feeling the heat of breathe along side my neck…
My grandmother always told me never stand in a puddle of water after it rains, or they will take me under. I saw a huge puddle of water. My grandmother and I locked eyes and I took a chance. I felt their hands pulling, as my grandmother waved goodbye smiling.
I said, “ Don’t talk or it will hear you!!” We both stood in the closet and I covered his mouth. I wanted to scream, as the hand I felt covering my mouth wasn’t his.
“Let me taste the brain that sits in the delicious bowl of your skull. Soaking in the read warming blood of your veins.”
Whispered my mother.
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The television was interrupted by an Emergency Broadcast tone. However, the screen displayed THIS IS NOT A TEST and froze in place. Then the power went out. A neighbor was yelling about the color of the sky. Static electricity trickled everywhere. Dad blurted, “There’s only seconds for a prayer.”
The housekeeper cleaned the priest’s old room as directed by the bishop. A serpent with red eyes hissed, spitting venomous blood, and blinding her. The hideous creature mocked the dying woman in the voice of the bishop. Slithering from the moldy room, neither had noticed the cringing, terrified altar boy.
Aspen. High noon but I’m drenched in sweat. More nerves than effort.
Black Diamond run, out of my depth. The tree came up fast.
Head is foggy, the sun is low.
Waves of balminess wash over me.
A sharp crack pierces the silence as the bear crunches through my femur.
Unable to move, Amanda’s eyes flickered about the room.
Behind her, a tenebrous voice spoke: “According to your chart, you’ve been diagnosed with selective mutism. I’m curious to know if you’ll find your voice once I begin drilling through your skull.”
Suddenly, shrieks filled the room along with hollow laughter.
Jessy’s heart pounded in her ears. It too heard the beating and drooled. The sound of It’s claws scratching down the hall drew closer. It stopped in front of Jessy’s closed door and busted through. Jessy watched her heart, still beating in It’s fist while It took the first bite.
‘Help me! I want power!’
My souls cried out, shielding my face. I seen that my husband fell back into bed, I sat up, limping back to my table. There, a crimson imp sat upon my threading. “Are you the devil?” I gasped.
The little devil giggled, “I am you.”
My fingers are already twitching with icy anticipation, ready to tap out tales of terror that’ll make readers huddle closer to the flickering fire.