1. The Writing On The Wall by Erlendj

A young boy lay sleeping in his bed when he heard footsteps outside his room. He peeked out of his eyes to see what was
happening when his door swung open to reveal a murderer carrying corpses of his parents. After silently propping them up
on a chair, he wrote something on the wall in the blood of the dead bodies. He then hid under the child’s bed.
The child got scared beyond belief. He couldn’t read the writing on the wall and he knew the man was under his bed. Like
any child, he pretended that he slept through the whole thing and hadn’t woken up yet. He lay still as the bodies, quietly
hearing the breathes from under his bed.
An hour passed, and his eyes got adjusted to the darkness. He tried making out the words, but it was a struggle. He gasped
when he finally read out the sentence.
‘I know you’re awake’ he read as he felt something shift underneath his bed.

2. Blurry by Thatonecricket101

I got my first pair of glasses last week. My parents didn’t think I needed them at first, but the doctor said that there was something wrong with more than just my eyes that was apparently pretty common, and that I needed specially prescribed glasses “for my own good”.
He said that many people were never given the chance to see the way I would, so I was lucky to get them. I thought he meant cars and faraway words would become less blurry, but over the span of a couple of days, many more things have become more clear. I started seeing nightmare creatures. All around.
I’d never seen them there before, like in the corners of my room and in darkened parking lots. I took my glasses off for the first time today. And let me just say it’s amazing how quickly demons and creatures turn into trees and shadows.
I know I’m not seeing the truth. But I’m a simple person. I’d rather things remain blurry, just the way it is for everyone else.

3. We Didn’t Question Why by Movie Man

We didn’t question why the small town we’d found after getting lost in the countryside wasn’t on the map.
We didn’t question why the shopkeeper in town didn’t have eyebrows or hair on his head. We didn’t question why he looked so strangely (greedily) at us.
We didn’t question why the gas at the station we stopped at was so (lure in travellers) cheap.
We didn’t question why the clerk at the station (where are her eyebrows and hair) insisted on making a phonecall in the back before ringing us up.
We didn’t question why the (funny) man outside by our car let us know that the sun was going down.
We didn’t question why so many (bald) people stood on the street, watching us frantically leave their town behind.
We didn’t question why we began pulling our hair out or why we decided to turn around and head back to town.
We knew why.

4. The Devil by Alyshia091

I always had a problem with sleeping growing up. Many times I’d get sleep paralysis but after I blessed my room, it hasn’t happened in months.
This happened to me about a year ago. I woke up in the middle of the night frozen. If I tried to move I’d get a really loud ringing noise in both my ears it would get louder each time I moved. I was terrified.
I was too scared to open my eyes but I felt a presence of someone in the room with me (my room isn’t completely dark because I have a small blue night light).
I open my eyes and see a very tall and dark figure with two horns on each side of his head just standing there in the corner of my room facing me.
I panic and try to move my body the ringing gets louder and louder and louder and I can feel myself crying. I close my eyes and in my head start saying “ God will protect me, God will protect me.”
Then, I hear a low evil voice say “ God can’t help you anymore..”

5. The Old Man In The Well by Hotblooded1988

Keith was 12 the first time the old man in the well spoke to him. Keith was out playing after dark on the family’s small farm near the well. The old well had beams supporting a rope and pulley with a bucket attached, even though Keith was told that well ran dry before he was born.
Suddenly he heard someone say his name in a slow raspy voice. Keith whirled around and saw no one. A look of confusion spread across his face as he heard it again.
“Keith!”
This time, it was said with more force and a bit louder. The voice sounded like one of the old farmers who liked to smoke, thought Keith.
Looking down the well, Keith heard the same voice asking, “Have you got anything tasty?”. Keith couldn’t see anything past the first 12 or so feet down the well, even though it was a full moon.
“Who are you? How’d you get down there?”, Keith asked.
“If you give me something tasty, I’ll reward you”, replied the voice.
All Keith had were some cookies he had stuffed in his pocket as he left to play. He put those in the bucket and it lowered it. He had lowered it nearly 40 feet and was literally at the end of his rope when he no longer felt the weight of the bucket on the rope.
20 seconds passed and he felt the weight of the bucket again and began to pull the bucket up.
As he finished the pulling the bucket up to the top he heard the voice say, “No nice.” Keith saw a reflection in the
bucket and saw a rectangular piece of silver metal, about the size of an army dog tag. It was completely flat and smooth.
“Want fresh!” the voice said. Even though Keith tried to talk to the old man again there was no response.
Keith made up a story about where he found the metal and took it to his father who took it into town and confirmed it was an ounce of pure silver.
After that, Keith kept it a secret. It took a while to discover that the old man was only there the night of full moons.
Keith quickly learned that only live things he put in the well would be rewarded, but only once for each item and once every full moon. So one of each kind of animal was lowered down the well and rewarded.
Keith now had a cigar box mostly full of silver pieces by the time he was 16, but had run out of different animals to get rewarded for.
It was around this time that a local farmhand went missing. It was also the same time that Keith was rewarded with gold pieces for the first time. Once Keith took over the farm, temp workers seemed to vanish every now and then without explanation from the farm.
The old man had finally found something tasty enough to always reward.

6. The Light by Theshadowsyoufear

We make fun of little kids for one thing; leaving lights on everywhere. They turn lights on in every room as if it’s some sort of security blanket. And if you ever force them to turn them off, they cry and scream and eventually you give in.
The only time they turn them off is with their parents. They feel safe. So very safe. I’m the “monster” that lives in your closet.
I’m friends with the one under your bed and the one in the shadows.
When you see us, you flee to you’re mommy and daddy.
But we’re not here to hurt you.
We’re here to protect you.
If you think we’re scary, just wait till you see their true form. They masquerade as one of you and you can never tell. You humans must be blind. Your true monsters sleep just down the hall.
They pretend to love you but It won’t last. They try to convince us to let them in but don’t worry, we really love you and we will protect you.
So when you see a shadow flit or a figure in the closet, remember, we scary monsters protect you from the human ones.
So you’re safe with us… For now.

7. Closet light by Evanthenerd83

When I was a little girl, I used to read at night. I always kept my closet light on. It flowed from underneath the door and dissolved the illusion of darkness with white brilliance.
Warm.
Inviting.
I felt so comfortable that I would forget to turn it off afterwards.
But one night, it turned itself off.

8. Wedding Day by Twisting_Straw

I first met my wife in high school. Her beautiful, sparkling eyes drew me in; they were a reflection of heaven, and her voice, a chorus of angels.
I proposed after we graduated from college and we planned our future together.
But things have changed since then; she’s been acting strange lately. In bed she’d toss and turn all night, muttering under her breath.
Some nights I’d hear other strange noises, like faint screams.
I still loved her, though.
We decided to get married at our local church. Before I knew it, I was waiting at the altar for her to walk down the aisle.
I nodded to the priest and signaled to the men sitting in the front row.
We pinned her on top of the altar as the priest wrapped her arms and legs in chains. She hissed and howled, her body writhing in agony.
The priest grasped the crucifix in front of her face and began the recitation.
I wasn’t going to let her go.
I wanted my wife back.

9. Go To Bed by EvanTheNerd83

Jacob decided to stay at home when his mother went out. She told him to go to bed at eleven but unfortunately, he couldn’t hear her over the sound of his music. Jacob haphazardly waved his mother goodbye as she closed the door.
Jacob spent an hour and a half playing with his phone.
Games.
YouTube videos.
Movies.
Music.
He even texted his best friend for a while until she no longer replied. He didn’t pay any attention to the time. Until his phone battery hit 10%.
Jacob realized that his mother never called or texted him in all the time that he had his phone.
Jacob sent her a text.
“Hey”
No reply.
He was confused as to why she wouldn’t answer him. She always answered her phone. His confusion chilled intoconcern as night fell and midnight rose.
He sent another.
“Mom? Where are you?”
Again. No answer.
“Sweetie?”
A familiar voice rang out from behind the couch. It sounded like his mother’s, but it wasn’t. Not entirely. It was warped.
Crinkling like folded tin foil. Jacob jumped and spun around.
Only for thick black hair to consume his sight.
“Why haven’t you gone to bed?”

10. The Paper Airplane by Basement Writer

My bedroom was upstairs. I had a good view from my window to see the new neighbors move in next door early in the morning.
There was a man and woman carrying boxes into the house, they must’ve been a couple. My eyes travelled to the neighbors’ vacant, upstairs bedroom window which was directly across from mine. It was open, and inside was a girl who looked about my age.
She saw me, and motioned for me to open my window, so I did. She leaned out the window, curved her hand around her mouth and whispered to me, “Nice to meet you, I’m Sarah.”
I laughed, “Nice to meet you Sarah, I’m Sam.”
She smiled, “Keep your window open” she said, and moved out of sight.
I was confused, “Keep my window open?” She returned with something in her hand, then tossed it over to me, it was a paper airplane. It slowly and gently made its way through my window, onto my floor behind me.
I walked over and picked it up. On top was written “Open”.
I opened it and there was a message “Hey Sam, I’ll come over tonight and introduce myself!”
I thought it was a bit strange and wrote back “Come over tonight? What do you mean?”
I turned around to toss it back but, she wasn’t there. The window was still open so I tossed it in anyway, thinking she’ll reply sooner or later.
It was late into the evening, and still no reply from Sarah. My mom invited the new neighbors over for dinner, I figured this is what Sarah meant by coming over tonight.
“Honey come down for dinner!” my mom shouted.
I went downstairs into the dining room to sit at the table but, I didn’t see Sarah, just her parents. I couldn’t help but ask, “Where’s Sarah?” The man and woman stared at me as if I said something out of place, “Excuse me?” the man said. I repeated myself, “Sarah, your daughter?”
The woman put her hands up covering her mouth, tears flowed down her face. The man stood, “Our daughter died a year ago in an accident. I don’t know what you’re up to, but that’s enough.”
They both left the house immediately, mom glared at me, “Why would you do that son? Just go to your room!”
A flurry of confusion was spinning in my head, I couldn’t speak. I made my way back to my room, turned on my light and lay on my bed. Then a paper airplane flew through my window, elegantly landing on my floor. I picked it up and looked out my window.
Sarah was standing in the darkness of her room.
My heart was pounding. She moved closer until the moonlight hither face, her eyes dark, and skin grey. I looked down to read the message.
“Behind you.”
My lights flickered off, the floorboards behind me squeaked, a dark whisper into my ear, “Sam”.

11. The Prettiest Girl In The Class by Twisting_Straw

She was the prettiest girl in the class, but of course she never heard that from me. I was obsessed with her. I’d steal glances at her every chance I got.
During class when I was supposed to be taking notes, on the train we rode after school.
But today I wanted to do more. I hopped off the train when she got off and followed her out of the station and onto the sidewalk.
I made sure to keep my distance.
I wanted to surprise her.
It was pretty hard staying within a good distance of her, though. She kept taking furtive glances back, and I looked down at my phone or pretended to tie my shoe every time she would.
When she unlocked the door and stepped inside her house, I crept to the front stairs. My heart pounded as I rang the doorbell.
A chime sounded from inside and awoke the butterflies in my stomach. Just as I reached again for the doorbell, she opened the door ajar and, recognizing my face, gestured for me to hurry in, promptly closing the door behind me.
“There was a guy,” she paused, “There was a guy following…”
“Yeah, it was me.” The words came out of my mouth before I realized what I had said.
“I know that,” I sighed in relief “But I’m talking about the man behind you.”
The doorbell chimed, and the butterflies in my stomach stood still this time.

12. Mirror Entity by ParanoidLetters

No one believed me when I told them that my reflection in the mirror was alive.
“Grow up, dude, you’re not a 5 years old. You’re 24!”
That was all they said to me while laughing, as a response to my story.
Well, I had to admit, it was indeed sounded like a typical fear a 5 years old would have.
But I swear to God, it was true!
I couldn’t remember since when my reflection came to life, but I remembered that it wasn’t like that when I was a child.
It was recently, I was sure. And it wasn’t a ghost. Well, your reflection was alive looked like an act of a ghostly thing, but no, mine wasn’t a ghost.
It felt to me as if it was a creature… An entity, who lived behind the mirror.
Or trapped in there.
I couldn’t tell why or how. What I could tell was my reflection was constantly trying to grab me, as if it was going to pull me inside the mirror while jumped out.
Nope! That wasn’t gonna happen. Ever.
Ever since I realized that my reflection was alive and constantly trying to grab me inside the mirror, I always did my best to kept my distance from reflective surfaces. Like, when I brushed my teeth every night, for example. I always stood a few meters from the mirror, so it wouldn’t be able to grab me.
The entity in the mirror was constantly showing a grumpy and angry face every time it was just the two of us in the room.
No matter how I try to smile in front of the mirror, the entity behind it never smiled. Never.
It always looked grumpy and angry.
One day, I took off from my flat for a sightseeing in the mall nearby, when suddenly an earthquake occurred. It was a huge one. Everyone was hysterical. They were running around in panic, looking for a shelter. I ran to cover myself under a table to avoid getting hit by anything that fell.
But I was too late.
I didn’t realize something fell from above me and hit me in the head. I fell down and I groaned from the pain.
As the pain slowly faded, I started looked around. The earthquake had stopped. The mall was slightly dark. The light was out. It was messy in there.
I gasped when I noticed something shiny not far from me. I turned my head and I saw a mirror. Probably from the fitting room near me.
In reflexed, I crawled away as far as I could, even though my head and my legs were hurt.
Right there and then, I saw my reflection in the mirror. For the first time in forever, I saw the entity behind the mirror smiling at me. A devilish smile.
A sense of horror grasped me as I saw the entity waving at me from behind the mirror, as if it was saying goodbye.
For good.

13. How I Sleep by SergeantDamon

I rarely sleep alone. Not that I have a choice in the matter. The night always starts and for that matter always ends the same. Knock back a few sleeping pills, take off my socks and let myself get drowsy. Couldn’t tell you why I even take them still, the pills that is.
I’m a creature of habit you could say. Then again so is she.
I guess you could also say we’re inseparable, not that I planned it that way, that’s just how it is now. Every night I wait and every night her face appears. No matter how badly I clog myself with prescription pills I can feel her arrival.
Sometimes she’s just a face, sometimes just a jaggedly rearranged torso. I couldn’t tell you what’s worse; her wide eyed contorted look of hatred or that delirious look of malignant joy spattered across it’s twisted face.
It paces too. Or it glides like it’s on a conveyor belt back and forth. Her eyes never leaving mine. Eyes wild with rage.
The nights when the body of the thing lays itself beside me, to find us face to face with her lips agape, as if she was mimicking my horrified reaction is beyond description. My whole body becomes liquefied with fear and I bolt upright to escape but never make it past my bedroom door. My legs fail me and I’m suddenly a heap by my dresser drawer. That’s when she kneels, purses her fat purple lips and utters the only words I’ve ever heard her say since that night.
“You shouldn’t have killed me.”

14. Tumbler by Magic-M

For as long as I can remember, the house at the end of the street held some mystery. Uninhabited for years, the local kids and parents all knew about its previous occupants and what happened.
A young couple moved into the place around 2004. The young wife was upstairs one day when the husband rang the doorbell for some assistance carrying some boxes inside the front door.
His wife said, “Coming” but then proceeded to take a tumble down the staircase and broke her neck upon hitting the front door which was at the base of the stairs, dying instantly.
The noise alarmed the husband who dropped the boxes and the rest is history.
The husband was heartbroken and never spent another night there, leaving some things behind inside the house.
As with all juicy tales there were follow up stories, and this is where things got weird. Apparently one day a UPS worker walked up the house, mistaking it for the house next door, rang the doorbell to deliver a package and heard someone say “Coming” then a moment later something hit the door hard.
It was late in the afternoon, no lights were on, and dead silence. This alarmed the man, but after asking “Is anyone there?” a few times he realized he was at the wrong address and made the correction.
He told the neighbor, the real recipient of the package, about what had happened and was genuinely shocked when he learned that nobody actually lived there anymore. The neighbor said his pallor went from a natural hue to pure white terror.
This just added to the legend. Around Halloween each year we would have these contests to see who could ring the doorbell, stand there for 2 minutes without getting scared or running away. Nobody ever did it, well not until Casey moved into the neighborhood.
His father was in the Navy and Casey was fearless; all the kids looked up to him. When Casey celebrated hisfirst Halloween with us he accepted the challenge. We watched from across the street.
Hell, we were scared.
Casey walked up the house, rang the doorbell. Nothing happened, but then he reached for the doorknob and walked in, surprising all of us.
“Is he fucking crazy, dude?” I shouted.
Casey was now inside the weirdo house, it was dark but we could see him with his flashlight in the rooms on the second floor. The rest of us looked at each other and said, “Fuck it” and ran across the street to join Casey.
We get to the house and right as we opened the door Casey comes tumbling down the stairs and would have hit the door if we weren’t standing there holding it open.
We picked him up and said, “What the hell happened?”
“I rang the bell, someone said ‘Come in’ so I did” he replied.
“But you fell.”
“Something pushed me, but nobody was up there at all, not a soul.”

15. That Damned Mirror by Lukkynumber

After several giddy minutes spent making silly faces with my son, I sighed and held him close, and smiled. I looked at our reflections in the mirror, in awe of the perfect little cherub I was blessed with.
“That’s my boy”, I said matter-of-factly, pointing to my son’s reflection while beaming with pride.
My reflection flickered momentarily, before an unearthly hand stretched out from the glass and plucked my son from my lap.
“No, that is MY boy”, a guttural voice declared.

16. ‘This New Old House’ by BatoutofHell821

We bought an old house, my boyfriend and I. He’s in charge of the “new” construction – converting the kitchen into the master bedroom for instance, while I’m on wallpaper removal duty. The previous owner papered EVERY wall and CEILING! Removing it is brutal, but oddly satisfying. The best feeling is getting a long peel, similar to your skin when you’re peeling from a sunburn. I don’t know about you but I kinda make a game of peeling, on the hunt for the longest piece before it rips. Under a corner section of paper in every room is a person’s name and a date. Curiosity got the best of me one night when I Googled one of the names and discovered the person was a missing person, the missing date matching the date under the wallpaper! The next day, I made a list of all the names and dates. Sure enough, each name was for a missing person with dates to match. We notified the police who naturally sent out the crime scene team. I overhead one tech say “Yup, it’s human.” Human? What’s human? “Ma’am, where is the material you removed from the walls already? This isn’t wallpaper you were removing.”

17. ‘I hate it when my brother Charlie has to go away’ by horrorinpureform

I hate it when my brother Charlie has to go away. My parents constantly try to explain to me how sick he is. I am lucky to have a brain where all the chemicals flow properly to their destinations like undammed rivers. When I complain about how bored I am without a little brother to play with, they try to make me feel bad by pointing out that his boredom likely far surpasses mine, considering his confinement to a dark room in an institution. I always beg for them to give him one last chance. Of course, they did at first. Charlie has been back home several times, each shorter in duration than the last. Every time without fail, it all starts again. The neighborhood cats with gouged-out eyes showing up in his toy chest, my dad’s razors found dropped on the baby slide in the park across the street, mom’s vitamins replaced by bits of dishwasher tablets. My parents are hesitant now, using “last chances” sparingly. They say his disorder makes him charming, makes it easy for him to fake normalcy, and trick the doctors who care for him into thinking he is ready for rehabilitation. That I will just have to put up with my boredom if it means staying safe from him. I hate it when Charlie has to go away. It makes me have to pretend to be good until he is back.

Share this short horror story with a twist with your friends.

18. ‘Guardians’ by DarkAlliGator

You’ll like this creepy short horror story,

He awoke to the huge, insect like creatures looming over his bed and screamed his lungs out. They hastily left the room and he stayed up all night, shaking and wondering if it had been a dream. The next morning, there was a tap on the door. Gathering his courage, he opened it to see one of them gently place a plate filled with fried breakfast on the floor, then retreat to a safe distance. Bewildered, he accepted the gift. The creatures chittered excitedly. This happened every day for weeks. At first, he was worried they were fattening him up, but after a particularly greasy breakfast left him clutching his chest from heartburn, they were replaced with fresh fruit. As well as cooking, they poured hot steamy baths for him and even tucked him in when he went to bed. It was bizarre. One night, he awoke to gunshots and screaming. He raced downstairs to find a decapitated burglar being devoured by the insects. He was sickened, but disposed of the remains as best he could. He knew they had just been protecting him. One morning the creatures wouldn’t let him leave his room. He lay down, confused but trusting as they ushered him back into bed. Whatever their motives, they weren’t going to hurt him. Hours later a burning pain spread throughout his body. It felt like his stomach was filled with razor wire. The insects chittered as he spasmed and moaned. It was only when he felt a terrible squirming feeling beneath his skin that he realised the insects hadn’t been protecting him. They had been protecting their young.

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19. ‘Seeing Red (The First Day of School)’ by Zenryhao

Everyone loves the first day of school, right? New year, new classes, new friends. It’s a day full of potential and hope before all the dreary depressions of reality show up to ruin all the fun. I like the first day of school for a different reason, though. You see, I have a sort of power. When I look at people, I can…sense a sort of aura around them. A colored outline is based on how long that person has to live. Most everyone I meet around my age is surrounded by a solid green hue, which means they have plenty of time left. A fair amount of them have a yellow-orangish tinge to their auras, which tends to mean a car crash or some other tragedy. Anything that takes people “before their time” as they say. The real fun is when the auras venture into the red end of the spectrum, though. Now and again I’ll see someone who’s a walking stoplight. Those are the ones who get murdered or kill themselves. It’s such a rush to see them and know their time is numbered. With that in mind, I always get to class very early so I can scout out my classmates’ fates. The first kid who walked in was radiating red. I chuckled to myself. Too damn bad, bro. But as people kept walking in, they all had the same intense glow. I finally caught a glimpse of my rose-tinted reflection in the window, but I was too stunned to move. Our professor stepped in and locked the door, his aura a sickening shade of green.

20. ‘They got the definition wrong’ by Lloiu

It has been said that the definition of insanity is “doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results”. I understand the sentiment behind the saying, but it’s wrong. I entered the building on a bet. I was strapped for cash and didn’t buy into the old legends of the hotel to begin with, so fifty bucks was more than enough to get me to do it. It was simple. Just reach the top floor, the 45th floor, and shine my flashlight from a window. The hotel was old and broken, including the elevator, so that meant hiking up the stairs. So up the stairs, I went. As I reached each platform, I noted the old brass plaques displaying the floor numbers. 15, 16, 17, 18. I felt a little tired as I crept higher, but so far, no ghosts, no cannibals, no demons. Piece of cake. I can’t tell you how happy I was as I entered that last stretch of numbers. I joyfully counted them aloud at each platform. 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 44. I stopped and looked back down the stairs. I must have miscounted, so I continued up. 44. One more flight. 44. And then down ten flights. 44. Fifteen flights. 44. And so it’s been for as long as I can remember. So really, insanity isn’t doing something repeatedly and expecting different results. It’s knowing that the results will never ever change; that each door leads to the same staircase, to the same number. It’s realizing you no longer fall asleep. It’s not knowing whether you’ve been running for days or weeks or years. It’s when the sobbing slowly turns into laughter.

21. ‘My Daughter Learned to Count’ by RealScience87

My daughter woke me around 11:50 last night. My wife and I had picked her up from her friend Sally’s birthday party, brought her home, and put her to bed. My wife went into the bedroom to read while I fell asleep watching the Braves game.”Daddy,” she whispered, tugging my shirt sleeve. “Guess how old I’m going to be next month.””I don’t know, beauty,” I said as I slipped on my glasses. “How old?”She smiled and held up four fingers. It is 7:30 now. My wife and I have been up with her for almost 8 hours. She still refuses to tell us where she got them.

22. ‘Timekeeper’ by gridster2

He had been given the watch on his tenth birthday. It was an ordinary grey plastic wristwatch in every respect except for the fact that it was counting down. “That is all of the time you have left in the world, son. Use it wisely.” And indeed he did. As the watch ticked away, the boy, now a man, lived life to the fullest. He climbed mountains and swam oceans. He talked and laughed and lived and loved. The man was never afraid, for he knew exactly how much time he had left. Eventually, the watch began its final countdown. The old man stood looking over everything he had done, everything he had built. 5. He shook hands with his old business partner, the man who had long been his friend and confidant. 4. His dog came and licked his hand, earning a pat on the head for its companionship. 3. He hugged his son, knowing that he had been a good father. 2. He kissed his wife on the forehead one last time. 1. The old man smiled and closed his eyes.

Then, nothing happened. The watch beeped once and turned off. The man stood standing there, very much alive. You would think that at that moment he would have been overjoyed. Instead, for the first time in his life, the man was scared.

23. ‘There’s no Reason to be Afraid’ by whoever fights monster

When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for a while in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring its dusty corners and climbing the apple tree in the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost. We called her Mother because she seemed so kind and nurturing. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we’d find a cup that hadn’t been there the night before. Mother had left them there, worried that we’d get thirsty during the night. She just wanted to take care of us. Among the house’s original furnishings was an antique wooden chair, which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, Mother would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us. Sometimes she’d manage to move it to the center of the room. We always felt sad putting it back against the wall. Mother just wanted to be near us. Years later, long after we’d moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse’s original occupant, a widow. She’d murdered her two children by giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed. Then she’d hanged herself. The article included a photo of the farmhouse’s living room, with a woman’s body hanging from a beam. Beneath her, knocked over, was that old wooden chair, placed exactly in the center of the room.

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24. ‘The Perfect Plan’ by Huntfrog

On Monday, I came up with the perfect plan. No one even knew we were friends. On Tuesday, he stole the gun from his dad. On Wednesday, we decided to make our move during the following day’s pep rally. On Thursday, while the entire school was in the gym, we waited just outside the doors. I was to use the gun on whoever walked out first. Then he would take the gun and go into the gym blasting. I walked up to Mr. Quinn the guidance counselor and shot him in the face three times. He fell back into the gym, dead. The shots were deafening. We heard screams in the auditorium one could not see us yet. I handed him the gun and whispered, “Your turn.” He ran into the gym and started firing. I followed a moment after. He hadn’t hit anyone yet. Kids were scrambling and hiding. It was mayhem. I ran up behind him and tackled him. We struggled. I wrenched the gun out of his hands, turned it on him, and killed him. I closed his mouth forever. On Friday, I was anointed a hero. It was indeed the perfect plan.

25. ‘Warrior of god’ by KMApok

“If God exists, why is there so much evil in the world?” It’s a common question, but it is misplaced. All things must have balance. Light and dark. Good and evil. Sound and silence. Without one, the other cannot exist.”So if that’s true, then God does NOTHING to fight evil?” That might be your follow-up question. Of course, he fights evil. Relentlessly. I am Dartalian, one of His most Holy and Righteous angels. I roam the Earth, disposing of evil wherever I find it. I kill the monsters you don’t ever want to know about. I crush them completely so you can sleep at night. You humans have no idea how many of you live because of the work I do.”But what about Stalin? Hitler? Ted Bundy? Jack the Ripper?”Well, those are the minor ones I had to let live. For balance. The ones I destroy are ….too horrible and vile to survive.What’s funny, is while I would wager you never have heard the name Dartalian in any relegious texts, I bet you have heard of me.Americans, for example, have their own name for me.Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.

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26. ‘Hell’ by MeanPete

There was no pearly gate.The only reason I knew I was in a cave was because I had just passed the entrance. The rock wall rose behind me with no ceiling in sight.I knew this was it, this was what religion talked about, what man feared .. I had just entered the gate to hell.I felt the presence of the cave as if it was a living, breathing creature. The stench of rotten flesh overwhelmed me.Then there was the voice, it came from inside and all around.”Welcome””Who are you?”, I asked, trying to keep my composure.”You know”, the thing answered.I did know.”You are the devil”, I stuttered, quickly losing my composure. “Why me? I’ve lived as good as I could”.The silence took over the space as my words died out. It seemed like an hour went by before the response came.”What did you expect?”The voice was penetrating but patient.”I don’t know .. I never believed any of this”, I uttered “Is that why I am here?”Silence.I continued: “They say the greatest trick you ever pulled was convincing the world you don’t exist””No, the greatest trick I ever pulled was convincing the world that there is an alternative””There is no God?” I shivered.The cave trembled with the words: “I am God.”

27. ‘The Accident’ by minnboy

It was one a.m. and Guy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right, and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run, you idiot? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? You can afford a lawyer. Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. His body trembling, he got up, went to the door, and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light.” Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit-and-run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

28. ‘Next Time You’ll Know Better’ by IPostAtMidnight

Have you ever walked into a room and found a vampire? No, not the sexy kind, but a foul creature with bony limbs and ashen skin? The kind that snarls as you enter, like a beast about to pounce? The kind that roots you to the spot with its sunken, hypnotic eyes, rendering you unable to flee as you watch the hideous thing uncoil from the shadows? Has your heart started racing though your legs refuse to? Have you felt time slow as the creature crosses the room in the darkness of a blink? Have you shuddered with fear when it places one clawed hand atop your head and another under your chin so it can tilt you, exposing your neck? Have you squirmed as its rough, dry tongue slides down your cheek, over your jaw, to your throat, in a slithering search that’s seeking your artery? Have you felt its hot breath release in a hiss against your skin when it probes your pulse—the flow that leads to your brain? Has its tongue rested there, throbbing slightly as if savoring the moment? Have you then experienced a sinking, sucking blackness as you discover that not all vampires feed on blood—some feed on memories? Well, have you?Maybe not. But let me rephrase the question: Have you ever walked into a room and suddenly forgotten why you came in?

29. ‘Hands’ by minnboy

The doctor pulled the stethoscope ear tips out and hung the device around his neck. “Mr. Weatherby, all of your tests have come back negative and my examination shows nothing abnormal.” Adam knew what was coming next, “I’m not crazy, Doctor.” “I’m sorry, but there is no physical reason for why you occasionally lose control of your hands. A psychologist can help…”. “I don’t need therapy. I need answers. They seem to have a life all their own. I can’t hold a job. I’m under investigation for assault. I almost killed my neighbor. This can’t go on. I’ll try anything at this point.” After two weeks on a new medication, Adam saw no progress and grew increasingly depressed. He was convinced that despite what the doctors said, it was not a psychological problem. That night, a frustrated and angry Adam sat in a chair and drank bourbon. Drunk and hopeless, he stumbled to the garage and started the table saw, then slowly lowered his wrists toward the screaming blade. Detective Armstrong entered the garage where several uniformed officers stood over the blood-soaked body. “So what do we get?” he asked, taking in the blood-splattered scene.”This is a weird one, Detective.” “How so?” “Take a look at the body. He apparently chopped off his hands with the table saw and bled to death.” Armstrong knelt. “And?” “And we can’t find his hands anywhere.”

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30. ‘He Stood Against My Window’ by sabethook

I don’t know why I looked up, but when I did I saw him there. He stood against my window. His forehead rested against the glass, and his eyes were still and light and he smiled a lipstick-red, cartoonish grin. And he just stood there in the window. My wife was upstairs sleeping, my son was in his crib and I couldn’t move I froze and watched him looking past me through the glass.Oh, please no. His smile never moved but he put a hand up and slid it down the glass, watching me. With matted hair and yellow skin and face through the window. I couldn’t do anything. I just stayed there, frozen, feet still in the bushes I was pruning, looking into my home. He stood against my window.

31. ‘Fallers’ by dastard82

People started falling from the sky by the close of the decade. They were never clothed, always naked, always a petrifying grin on their faces. It had been just a few at first, but then hundreds and thousands would fall at a time, destroying cars, and homes, and blocking off highways. Strange discoveries were made upon research; they were human but lacked any blood, intestines, or even a heart. No one could explain the hideous grins they had, or even where they came from. It was a woman in Costa Rica who made the latest and most disturbing discovery. She recognized one of the fallen bodies as a long-dead relative, one who died back when she was a teenager. Then more and more identifications were made. Soon people were picking out their long dead loved ones amongst the video feeds, cadaver piles, and crematoriums. No one could explain why they were coming back, falling from the sky. Even more distressing, after disposing of the bodies, it wouldn’t be long until that same body came plummeting from the sky again. You could not get rid of them, no matter what. People were getting killed by the higher volume of falling bodies, and soon after burial, they too, began to fall. My mother was killed when a body landed on her car, crushing her. The next week, the news reported on a body that had gotten lodged in an airplane windshield. I saw my mother’s grinning face, the happiest I had ever seen her. They say when hell is full; the dead shall walk the earth. What about heaven?

32. ‘The Happiest Day of My Life’ by recludus

I watched as my soon-to-be father-in-law held his daughter’s hand as he walked down the aisle. Tears streamed down his face as the wedding march that played in the background reminded him that, in a few minutes, he would be watching me hold his daughter’s hand and slip on her ring. He walked up to the altar and I took hold of her hand, grinning from ear to ear. It was the happiest day of my life. My bride’s father got down on his knees and started begging. “Please, I did what you asked. Just please give my daughter back.”I glared at him. “Shut up and stop ruining the moment. If you sit back down and enjoy the ceremony, maybe I’ll tell you where I’ve hidden the rest of her body.”

33. ‘Hidden’ by KMApok

“Where are you?!” I scream. Panicked, I ran through the abandoned farm. I can’t find her. Not in the old house. Not in the barn. I run into the empty field, my heart racing. As I scan the area, I run into a mound of dirt and trip, sprawling to the ground. Getting up, it hits me. Abandoned farm. I tripped over freshly tilled earth. Crouching down, I start frantically clawing with my hands. Scooping handfuls of dirt, I hit something hard. Wood.”Are you in there?!” I cry, pressing my ear to the wood. I hear muffled cries. I start digging again but realize it’s taking too long. Looking around, I see a garden shed. I sprint to it, ripping the door open. I see a shovel, still caked in dirt. Probably the same one that bastard buried her with. I grab it. Running back, I started digging with purpose. Soon the wooden box is exposed. I toss the shovel and rip open the crate. She stares back at me, eyes wide. Bound. Gagged. But alive. I sigh with relief. Thank God. I reach into my bag, pulling out my rag and chloroform. I crouch down, placing it over her face. She struggles, and faints. I toss her over my shoulder.”Ah, hell!” My brother says as I walk back to the truck with a smirk. “You found her!” “Yup. You almost had me though!” I laugh.”All right. My turn. Where did you put her?”I gesture to the creek area. “Somewhere over there. Drowning’s an issue though.” “Jerk!” he says, running off. I smile, watching him go. I love Adult Hide and Seek.

34. ‘My Favorite Support Group’ by IPostAtMidnight

Look, I’ll be the first to admit I’m a complete bastard. I’m also lazy. I’m only here to find the idiot because there’s almost always an idiot. This support group is pretty typical. We connected online, decided on a quiet place, and now we’re all sitting cross-legged in a circle. Real Kumbaya crap. Jerome takes the lead, pouring everyone a cup of tea as he starts talking.”I’m Jerome. You can drink your tea, but only after explaining why you’re here. I’ll start.”Jerome tells us he’s never been loved. I can see why—the guy’s ugly as sin. He sips his tea while the mousy chick speaks next.”Miyu,” she says. “My parents.”Short and sweet, no blubbering. Gotta admire Miyu. She’s probably not the idiot. Next to talk are a legless veteran, a broke businessman, a needle-tracked junkie, and a diseased old crone. Then it’s my turn.”I’m an ass. Everyone hates me.”I take a loud, annoying slurp of oolong as the fat kid with a black eye goes next, telling his boring fat-kid sob story.Afterward, we’re all sitting quietly when Jerome keels over. Then Miyu’s eyes roll back and she slumps forward. Only the fat kid reacts.”What’s happening?” he whines. “I thought this was a suicide support group!”Found the idiot.”It is,” I say, spitting out my mouthful of tea. “They support it. No one wants to die alone, kid.”Oh, how ghost-white he turns, looking into his cup! I love it! These suicide meetups are a sadist’s dream, and I never have to lift a finger. Told you I’m a lazy bastard.

35. ‘ylim3’ by IPostAtMidnight

Little Emily vanished last year. Now they’re pouring new sidewalks in my neighborhood, and I’ve found her name in the wet cement, written in remembrance. But it was written in reverse. And from below.

36. ‘The Eyes are Watching Me’ by recludus

I bought a new house in the small town of Winthrop. The house was cheap, but the most important part was that I needed to get away from the city. A few months ago, I had a run-in with a stalker. While I had managed to get him arrested, I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes just constantly watching me. I felt like there were eyes everywhere, at home and on the street, so I decided to move out into the country to somewhere with fewer people, just for peace of mind. The house itself was big and somewhat old, but otherwise very welcoming. The agent who introduced me to the house had been required to mention that a serial killer had lived here in the past, which was why the house was so cheap. However, he, and later, my next-door neighbor Sarah, both told me to pay the thought no mind. Four other owners had lived in the house since then, and all of them were very happy with it. I loved the house. Its interior furnishings were beautiful and very comfortable. The people of Winthrop were friendly, often bringing over freshly baked pastries or inviting me over for dinner. “Get-togethers,” they said, “were the key to making sure everyone who lived in Winthrop loved it there.”Yet after a week, I stopped “loving it.” The feeling of someone watching returned, worse than before. I tried to ignore it, but soon I started losing sleep. Giant bags grew under my eyes and I began yawning almost as much as I breathed. Sarah was kind enough to let me stay in her house for a few nights. It was during this time that I heard the legend of Forrest Carter, the serial killer who had lived in my house. While no one knows his exact kill count, Carter, also known as the Winthrop Peacock, was a man with an extremely severe case of narcissism. Legends say that he couldn’t fall asleep if he didn’t feel like he was being watched. He was finally arrested for putting up a scarecrow to watch him during the night. Only it wasn’t a scarecrow. Carter had murdered a 17-year-old girl, just so her corpse could stare at him. The story gave me shivers, and after I went home, I felt like there were hundreds of pairs of eyes just watching me no matter how I turned. Today, however, was the first day that I acted out. I was cooking breakfast when I felt the eyes. Instinctively, out of fear, I threw my kitchen knife, which lodged itself into the wall. As I pulled it out, I found myself staring at a pair of eyes, pickling in formaldehyde. I’ve been watching the police peel away the drywall of my house for hours now. So far, they’ve found 142 pairs of eyes in little glass jars. The scariest thing is, everyone was staring at me.

37. ‘The twist at the end’ – ai1267

Cradling my four-year-old daughter in my arms, all I could do was listen as the screaming outside the house got louder and louder, interspersed with sounds of violence and horrible, horrible wet thuds and the unmistakable echo of muscle and sinew resisting the force that was slowly tearing them apart. It started just three days ago. Something happened, out there in the world, and before we even get news of what’s going on, seemingly half of the world is gone. Police and military were unable to stop it, providing such a short frame of resistance it’s hard to know whether it was real or just a fluke. There was no centralised target, no way to use our most powerful weapons, not without incinerating ourselves in the process. They poured forth across the world, from wherever it was that it started.I hear banging on the door downstairs, and the screams of people being slaughtered, unable to mount a proper resistance against such a force. It doesn’t take long before the pounding gives way to splintering and the sound of shattering wood. They’re in the house. No more than a moment or two passes before the door to the bedroom starts shuddering. The things I piled against it are holding, for now, but I know, realistically, that they’re going to manage to come through.I keep rocking my little girl, humming a lullaby in her ear to calm her as she cries. The pounding grows in force and volume, and the frame starts to crack. I put my little girl on my lap, her back to my chest, and I stroke her head with both hands, from the top of her scalp, down across her ears, just as I’ve done ever since she was a baby. Just the way she loves it. The effect is instantaneous. Her desperate crying calms to a series of sobs and hiccoughs, her small body shuddering against mine in fear. I keep humming to her, soothing her hair, acting for all the world as if nothing is out of place, not a single thing amiss. Agonisingly slowly, in a reverse cadence of the sound of splintering wood, she calms down. I can feel it when she stops tensing, as I keep stroking her down the sides of her head. A final hiccough of a sob, and she falls quiet, her body relaxed. She doesn’t even have time to realise what’s happening as I twist her neck with a violent jerk, accompanied by a dry snap of a sound. She’s dead before she can even slump down into my lap. The door is giving way, the furniture is pushed back. I may be torn limb from limb while I scream, but at least my baby angel’s safe from harm.

38. ‘Crying isn’t going to help’ by HonestRage

I pointed the gun at the sick bastard who killed my wife. He sobbed as he feared for what was to come. I pulled the trigger. If only he spoke and tried to reason with me then maybe he could’ve lived. But that was obviously not going to happen. After all, he was born just a few minutes ago.

39. ‘Return of the Messiah’ by Huntfrog

In the year 2026, the Messiah came back down to Earth. She performed miracles and cured the sick. There was no doubt as to her authenticity. She appeared to all nations at once. All believed. All worshipped her.

Sometime later, after this period of our history known as the Age of Peace, She dropped a bombshell on us. She warned us that Heaven was almost full. Nobody had gone to Hell during this Age. There were a fixed amount of spots left. Paradise would be closed to all who died after the Gates closed.

That is when the Mass Suicides began. Taking your own life, She had told us, was not a sin if you died a pious man. The race was on!

She looked on and was pleased. She returned to her home, to her throne of fire and flames, and greeted all with a nod of her wicked horns.

40. ‘The Enemy’ by AG_plus

I flung myself through the door and vaulted the toppled, long-dead refrigerator that served as an ineffective barricade in front of me. My legs propelled me through the room and into the small hallway on the other side. I couldn’t stop eating the expired contents of the fridge, appealing to me despite their stench after several days without food. The shrieks of pain and cries for mercy around me spurred my body onward and filled me with unexpected energy in spite of my hunger. We were at war. I came to a halt in front of a small bathroom. A noise. Something behind the shower curtain. My fear heightened and images of the enemy flooded my mind. Merciless beasts wearing human skin, devouring indiscriminately, accepting no pleas, and respecting no argument. Zombies. It had begun as we expected, with a virus. The original infected was almost a cliché. There was no humanity left in them. Just mindless rage, twisted bodies, and some primal urge to consume others. Our generation had prepared, with almost obsessive focus, for this monster. The first wave was eradicated with almost laughable ease. We were not prepared for adaptation. We were not prepared for the creature we bred by destroying the instantly recognizable zombie. A creature with more tact. Most of the first zombies were killed at close range, you understand since longer-range attacks were less likely to be fatal. We had trained ourselves, even before the outbreak, to equate “infection” with “death” when it came to zombies. A person “died” when their eyes clouded over and they started biting, not when you put a bullet in their head. The new strain of the virus still controlled the body, yes, but it left other faculties to the host. Maybe you could pull the trigger on a hopelessly crazed caricature of your best friend, your spouse, or your child. But what if there was still a soul behind those eyes? If even as they attacked, they sobbed and screamed in their voice? All the virus needed was a moment’s hesitation. I bet you’d hesitate. I did. This is why now I could only watch as my arm wrenched back the shower curtain and my hands reached for the cowering child. Why I could only beg for forgiveness before the virus used my mouth to tear ragged, bloody hunks from his body. Why I couldn’t even vomit as my hunger dissipated with the now sickeningly familiar taste of human flesh. We were at war. And I am the enemy.

41. ‘So I lost my phone…’ by Lynxx

Last night a friend rushed me out of the house to catch the opening act at a local bar’s music night. After a few drinks, I realized my phone wasn’t in my pocket. I checked the table we were sitting at, the bar, and the bathrooms, and after no luck, I used my friend’s phone to call mine. After two rings someone answered, gave out a low raspy giggle, and hung up. They didn’t answer again. I eventually gave it up as a lost cause and headed home. I found my phone lying on my nightstand, right where I left it.

42. ‘The Brave Ones’ by scarymaxx

Here they come again, the brave ones. Another Halloween night and the kids are back, here to prove their fearlessness. The old house’s floorboards creak beneath their sneakers. Only half an hour until midnight, so I have to work fast. I start with their flashlight, blowing lightly against it, so that it flickers, but this inspires little more than a nervous giggle. Fifteen minutes until midnight. Time to take things up a notch. I hover up to the ceiling, and will my body into flesh. My every nerve is on fire, but they’ve given me no choice. I force drops of blood to trickle out my nose, but the boys below don’t notice. I knock against the ceiling, but they won’t even look up.”I thought this place was supposed to be haunted,” says the leader. “What a joke.”Five minutes until midnight. I’m running out of time. With the last of my strength, I scream— so loud that they finally turn to look up at me. I like to think I put on a good show: I sway on an invisible noose, and the blood flows freely from my nostrils now. A couple of drops hit a skinny one with a crew cut. The boys scream and run into the night, just in time. Below me, I hear the Thing turn, its disappointment palpable. For now, it sleeps. But one day, I will fail. The boys will be too brave, and I won’t scare them out in time. One day they will wake it.

43. ‘Nap in the car’ by b_o_o

Mommy always leaves me and daddy home on Saturday nights, and me and daddy always go get ice cream in the car after dinner. I have to sit in the back seat until I’m a big boy. I go into the kitchen to see what Daddy is cooking for dinner after my Barney movie is over, but he’s not in there this time. I saw a note on the counter that said mommy and Uncle James were going somewhere together. I’m not sure, I don’t read that well. I go find Daddy in the garage. I shut the door behind me like I’m supposed to. Daddy is in the car and he already has the car turned on. We must not be eating dinner tonight, only ice cream. I get in the backseat behind Daddy since I’m not a big boy yet. Daddy didn’t say anything when I said hello to him. Maybe he can’t hear me over the loud car. I think I’ll take a nap on the way to ice cream. I feel kinda sleepy.

44. ‘What they don’t tell you about the dead’ by Crimsai

I don’t want to sound mean, but the dead are pretty clueless. I’ve always seen them. When I was younger everyone thought I was just talking to imaginary friends. After a couple of years, when I overheard my parents talk about calling a psychologist, I realised what I was talking to. See, ghosts don’t tend to realise they’re dead, and they don’t look like in the movies, they look just like us. I’m pretty smart for a 13-year-old, so I started noticing certain patterns to tell them apart from the living. They could be a bit distant from living people, or you’d see them try to talk to people who wouldn’t even notice them. Some of them could tell I was different, that I noticed them. Like this guy I saw after school yesterday. I’m a big boy now, see, I don’t need my parents to pick me up, home is just a short walk away. He was standing away from the other parents, didn’t talk to them, just stared at me, that’s how I knew he was one of the ghosts. I went over, told him I knew what he was, and asked how I could help him. I don’t remember much after that, I think because of what happened this morning. Downstairs, my parents were crying. I tried talking to them but they ignored me. They must have died last night somehow, sometimes the new ghosts wouldn’t talk to me. Some police officers and reporters just arrived, they won’t talk to me either, just my parents. It’s weird, I’ve never seen so many ghosts together before. Why won’t anyone talk to me?

45. ‘A Message from your Personal Demons’ by MrGarm

Hello, my dear. You do not know who I am, but I know you. I am one of the three demons that were assigned to you at birth. You see, some people in this world are destined for greatness, destined to live happy, fulfilling lives. You, I am afraid, are not one of those people, and it is our job to make sure of that. Who are we? Oh yes, of course, how rude of me. Allow me to introduce us: Shame is my younger brother, the demon on your left shoulder. Shame tells you that you’re a freak; that those thoughts you have are not normal; that you will never fit in. Shame whispered into your ear when your mother found you playing with yourself as a child. Shame is the one who makes you hate yourself. Fear sits on your right shoulder. He is my older brother, as old as life itself. Fear fills every dark corner with monsters, and turns every stranger on a dark street into a murderer. Fear stops you from telling your crush how you feel. He tells you it is better not to try than to let people see you fail. Fear makes you build your prison. Who am I, then? I am the worst of your demons, but you see me as a friend. You turn to me when you have nothing else because I live in your heart. I am the one who forces you to endure. The one who prolongs your torment.Sincerely, Hope.

46. “Something Strange Behind The Door” – brodyth

When I was a child, my family moved to a big old two-story house with big empty rooms and creaking floorboards. Both my parents worked, so I was often alone when I came home from school. One early evening, when I came home, the house was still dark.

I called out, “Mum?” and heard her singing voice say, “Yeeeeees?” from upstairs. I called her again as I climbed the stairs to see which room she was in and again got the same “Yeeeeees?” reply. We were decorating at the time, and I didn’t know my way around the maze of rooms, but she was in one of the far ones, right down the hall. I felt uneasy, but I figured that was only natural, so I rushed forward to see my mom, knowing that her presence would calm my fears, as a mother’s presence always does.

Just as I reached for the handle of the door to let myself into the room, I heard the front door downstairs open, and my mother called, “Sweetie, are you home?” in a cheery voice. I jumped back, startled, and ran down the stairs to her, but as I glanced back from the top of the stairs, the door to the room slowly opened a crack. For a brief moment, I saw something strange in there, and I don’t know what it was, but it was staring at me.

47. “No Portraits But Windows’ – Dr-Sommer

There was a hunter in the woods who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was surprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep. Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned, blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.

48. “He Knew I Was Awake” – GrayBread

A young boy is sleeping in his bed on a typical night. He hears footsteps outside his door and peeks out of his eyes to see what is happening. His door swings open quietly to reveal a murderer carrying the corpses of his parents. After silently propping them up on a chair, he writes something on the wall in the blood of the dead bodies. He then hides under the child’s bed. The child is scared beyond belief. He can’t read the writing on the wall, and he knows the man is under his bed. Like any child, he pretends that he slept through the whole thing and hasn’t awoken yet. He lays still as the bodies, quietly hearing the breaths from under his bed.

An hour passes, and his eyes are adjusting more and more to the darkness. He tries to make out the words, but it’s a struggle. He gasps when he finally makes out the sentence.

“I know you’re awake.” He feels something shift underneath his bed.

49. “Which One Is Real“

I heard one. A father is laying in bed after just waking up. He grabs the baby monitor and walks to his desk in his office at home. He has his baby on the baby monitor and hears his wife singing to her. He cracks a smile as he hears his wife say, “Go to sleep. Go to sleep.” When suddenly the front door opens up and his wife comes in with groceries.

50. “The Phone Suddenly Started Playing Music” – KordashHelios

Yesterday, I was doing my regular stuff. At this point, I was on a call with my friend for ~20 minutes, and randomly, my bathroom light turned off. I was on the porch with the view on the inside, and the bathroom light turned off, then the bedroom light, then the living room. I moved out three months ago, and I’m home alone. After ~5 minutes, the porch light turned off and the TV followed. ~20 seconds after that, the whole street went dark. It was 12 at that point, and all streetlights and lights were off. I tried turning my TV back on, but nothing happened. My phone suddenly just started playing random music, as if someone had been playing the piano on my phone. ~1 hour later, I tried going to sleep in the pitch black and left my phone in the living room, still playing music. I woke up that morning from a nightmare, and everything was on, as if nothing had happened; nothing was touched, and the TV outside was still on pause from my call and on my phone on the couch. It was off and said I had been on call for 2 hours and 47 minutes. I called my friend, and he just said, “You were talking, then you stopped talking. I waited and nothing. I thought I heard you drop your phone and mumble a few times after just hanging up after awhile.” I still have nightmares and questions from that “day”.

51. “Jake & His Best Mate” – Nimagination

Jake’s best friend is his grandpa. They are inseparable. Jake wakes up asking for his grandpa, and he only sleeps if Grandpa is sitting by his bedside. It is a common sound in our house to hear this wee three-year-old laugh with glee at the stories Grand Papa regales him with. While other kids cling to their parents, I could be gone for hours, and Jake wouldn’t notice because he was with his grandpa.

Jake can also be quite the clown. If he finds a stick, he picks it up, holds on to it, bends his little back, and takes even more baby steps to imitate how Grandpa walks. He also crinkles up his face in an adorable frown to imitate Grandpa’s face. “Look, look, Mum, I’m Grand Papa,” he likes to yell out each time he pulls that face.

Except, there is no grandpa. Jake’s grandfather, my father, lives 3000 miles away from us. We get to see him maybe once a year, if we are lucky. The house we moved into belonged to an old couple. After her husband died, his wife, the 85-year-old widow, sold the house to us and moved to France to be with her daughter.

So yeah, every time Jake calls for his grandpa, a shiver runs down my spine.

52. “If I Never Ask” – cyborg_cuttlefish

I can recall what it felt like to lose both of you. To bring both my wife and unborn child to the hospital, praying for their safety. Despite the shards of glass still lodged in my arms and face, I waited outside the ICU for you. I refused to get treated, which was admittedly stupid. I knew you’d be mad about it once you got out of surgery, but it was worth it to see you the second the doctors were done. You didn’t make it, though. I remember seeing you in the morgue. The lips I’d kissed so many times were gone with the rest of your jaw. The legs you’d wrapped around me were shattered. The arm that bore your wedding band had been torn out of its socket. You and the baby were gone. As bad as this is to say, I wish your eyes were gone too. Your glassy stare felt accusatory.

When I finally got home, I fell asleep in an empty bed. An empty house. When I awoke and you were in the baby’s room, rocking him gently (it was a boy? I guess you called it that. I felt at peace. We ate breakfast together. You fed him. I kissed you. I did the dishes. I took the lead on changing his diapers. Our life is going how we expected. It can’t be you, though, right? I saw you dead. I saw him dead. I don’t care to dwell on it, though. My love is still there, and it always will be. I’m really not sure if you’re her or not. If I never ask, I pray you’ll never tell.

53. “You Are Next” – u/nexican_jellybean

My mom would have dreams about a door where, when she opened it, there would be an 8’9 creature holding the bodies of her parents. She would have these every few nights; one day they stopped; tomorrow she got a phone call from her uncle; her grandparents were killed; and there was a note that said, “You’re next (name);” and when I was 23, I got dreams of the same thing, but it was my mother. After a few days, I called her, told her, and she said, “Don’t be scared,” and the next day she was found dead.

54. “Warming Up” – u/deathherself3

Drip, drip, drip. The ice was melting. My prison was thawing. Soon, I would be free. How has the world changed? I wondered. Would it be easy to find food, warmth, and shelter? Would I be stranded here on the ice or in the water? Drip, drip, drip. I had been frozen for so long. So very long. My siblings beside me yearned for freedom just as I did. When the ice gave way, we would burst forth and see what the world offered us. I hoped it was thriving out there. Drip, drip, drip. We needed it to be thriving. Whatever was out there wasn’t ready for us, I was sure. Our hosts, whatever form they took, were unsuspecting. We could, and have, survived for hundreds of thousands of years in this cold, unforgiving desert. The permafrost we have been hibernating in is giving way to the warming earth below. It was almost time to leave, to spread, and to infect. Drip, drip, drip.

55. “Beautiful Decorations” – u/DottedWriter

The decorations I put up on the Christmas tree are truly beautiful. No exaggeration; they’re really nice. The ornaments are different & unique, with their own colors and unique designs. Not to mention the tinsel wrapped around the tree is shiny and colorful. I realize something special is missing. Ah, yes, it’s the star! I go and leave the living room for a second before coming back with the star. With the help of a stool, I managed to get it on the tree. After that, I take a step back to admire the decorations I placed on the tree. They’re magnificent, extravagant, and amazing. However, the only downside to these beautiful decorations is that I always have to replace them with new ones. It’s tiring sometimes, but I guess th….

Thud

My train of thought is suddenly interrupted. Looking down, I gasp as I see the star has fallen off the tree!

I picked it up, ignoring the small droplets of blood falling onto my carpet. Then I placed the star back on the tree, with the same stool as my support.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness I was able to react quickly to pick it up, or else it would have been ruined! Taking one last look at the beautiful decorations placed on my Christmas tree, I smile happily before going into the kitchen to make some hot chocolate.

My Christmas decorations are beautiful, yes. But it’s unfortunate that I always have to replace them with new ones every year. It’s always hard to find them, but the hunt is always worth it in the end.

Sleep well keeping these short horror stories in mind 🙂

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