Start your story with a blast of lightning casting a graveyard in a flash of brief, white light.

Posted in Dramatic on Oct 21, 2022

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✍️ 36 stories

“Midnight Keeper” by Sarah Rich

Submitted to Contest #169

The lightning shot down and struck miles away from the now-illuminated graveyard. Rain slammed against the guard shack window mercilessly with loud cracks and slaps that began to resemble the sound of rattling television static. As the rain pounded, more lightning dove into the ground, reminding John of just how despairing his job could be. People carried a misconception that graveyards were dark, creepy, and unsettling. For John, the graveyard he oversaw at the turn of midnight was nothing more than the peaceful resting place he’d chosen...

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“Remembrance ” by Jango MyHeart

Submitted to Contest #169

It isn’t raining nor is there an impending thunderstorm looming. The Talisman Grove is in the midst of a dry Indian Summer with no threat of rainfalls or thunderstorms coming any time soon. Yet at night, the asphalt, concrete, brick and stone pavements alike begin oozing microscopic bubbles of moisture, seeping through its pores with almost like an oil type substance. Fog uncharacteristically gathers on empty, abandoned streets hovering close above surface level every night since summer has started in June. What’s even more peculiar, at the ...

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“House Hunting” by KarLynn Erickson

Submitted to Contest #169

House Hunting by KarLynn Erickson A jagged bolt of bright light struck the dirt road in front of Carrie's Jeep. She gasped and stepped hard on the brake. Her eyes squinted to try and digest what she thought she saw in the split-second flash, but before she could focus an ear-splitting boom made her scream. She gripped the stirring wheel and tried to slow her pounding heart. "Was that a graveyard?" She asked herself out loud. "I don't remember a graveyard in the description of this house. There must be some mistake." She wa...

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“Penance” by Daniel Roueche

Submitted to Contest #169

The sweat drips down my head, burns my eyes, and plasters my shirt. I use a dirty rag to wipe it up. It’s no use. I shove the rag into my pocket.I’ve been at it for at least three hours already, but you wouldn’t know that from my lack of progress. There’s barely a dimple in the hardened earth. It doesn’t want to be disturbed.My hands blister, my arms sag, and my lungs are ready to burst. But I have to keep going. I heft the shovel and slam it down. A dirt clod clatters away and rolls a few inches.I keep at it.Another hour of fighting against...

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“A Night to Remember” by Kelsey Fish

Submitted to Contest #169

Lightning flashed overhead, snapping a photo of the scene below the heavy clouds. Sam wiped the sweat from her forehead and rested against the cool earth behind her. Rains coming, she thought to herself as she glanced first at the dark ceiling above her, and then to her watch, which indicated Desmond was late, again. Rolling her eyes to herself, she began digging again, the rich scent of soil overwhelming her sense of smell, causing her to cough sporadically as she dug ever deeper. How deep did they bury this asshole? She thought angr...

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“The Fiend of the Past ” by M B

Submitted to Contest #169

The sound of thunder exploded overhead as a flash of lightning turned night into day, revealing a ghoulish graveyard replete with wet, broken headstones and consuming ivy. The horseman and his horse kept their composure, though the man did consider if he would ever be buried in a grave, or if there would be anything left of him to bury once his enemies found him. The man’s horse - a veteran of Europe’s battlefields - was used to volleys of musket fire and the boom of cannons, so it also kept its self-control... although the equine di...

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“Happy Birthday, Susan” by Ralph Emery Barhydt

Submitted to Contest #169

Susan let out a big sigh and sat down. She normally didn’t go to movies by herself, but it had been a long harrowing week at IBM. It was a great job, paid well, had lots of interesting, good looking young men and her boss was a good man. The heavy curtains in from of the movie screen were pulling back and she took some nibbles on her popcorn. She just had to have some diversion. Life with Stanley was good but she was beginning to think he was cheating on her. Of course, the new object of his desire had to be her best friend, Monica. Then, th...

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“Fear Dash” by DEBORAH CLARK

Submitted to Contest #169

Steven tapped on his phone to bring up the GPS. He was a driver for Door Dash and on occasion was known to get lost. GPS said he was going the right way but Steven wasn’t so sure, the road was dark and he just drove through what looked like an oversized wrought iron gate. The street curved to the left and the right and the left again, making Steven’s inner sense of direction dizzy. He pulled over and stopped the car when his phone said, “you have arrived at your destination.” Something felt wrong and Steven checked the GPS again. He did not...

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“The Guardian” by Daniel Doggett

Submitted to Contest #169

This story may contain cemeteries undead and magic read at your discretion. Lightning split the eternal night, illuminating the path between the headstones. In the years I had been trapped in the cursed city of Cho Wren, the darkness had never let the lightning show. I hoped more strikes would appear. The dead milling around seemed frozen by the sudden light; even the shadowy wraiths that devoured the life from the living seemed frozen by the brilliance. I caught the outline of a crypt and hoped it was the right one this time. It was hard ma...

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“Forced Closure” by Lacey Hill

Submitted to Contest #169

Now Lightening flashes overhead, lighting the graveyard around me, and I startle at the glare. A distant rumble follows a few seconds later, as I make my way to the one place I've been avoiding for the better part of a year. I find what I've been searching for. “Hey Mom. It’s been a while,” I say to the headstone. It’s lovely and white and reads “Tawny Cole. Beloved Mother, Wife, and Daughter.” I stifle a derisive laugh. Beloved Mother. But I guess it’s not such a stretch. After all, she was beloved by me, once. A long time ago, and ...

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“The Tale of the Cemetery Willow” by Kyle Quande

Submitted to Contest #169

Mother Nature can bring back the dead. That’s what my older sister, Alana, used to tell me. She used to always scare me with her creepy stories about ghosts, death, and the monsters lurking in the dark. But her spooky stories no longer affected me once I hit my teenage years. I never realized how much Alana believed them. A flash of bright white lightning illuminates the cemetery. That’s how this story starts. Alana’s told me this one countless times before. Among the numerous tombstones strewn throughout the graveyard stands a willow tree. ...

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“"Miracle"” by Jack Latreille

Submitted to Contest #169

The lightning and thunder buzz Morton awake. At least, he thinks it’s lightning, but the sound is faint, like rain on a concrete roof. The darkness resting on him remained firm in its opaque determination. Morton reaches his right hand out, expecting to feel Liz’s warm skin. His hand taps against a cold surface. His arm recoils towards his face, only to be greeted by that same surface behind his head. It feels grainy against his numb fingers. It wasn’t his headboard. He brushes his hand across the wood, feeling its coarse firmness ...

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“The Happy Valley Fiddlers' Convention” by Doug McGuinn

Submitted to Contest #169

The lightning bolt seemed to have come out of nowhere, scaring me half to death, its flash of white light very briefly illuminating Laura Foster’s tombstone that had chiseled on it, LAURA FOSTER/MURDERED May 25, 1866/TOM DULA /HANGED FOR CRIME. Looking up, I saw that the darkening sky was clear except for one lone cloud floating in front of a full moon. Not only was the moon full, it was a blood moon, huge and red-orange. Laura Foster’s gravesite is located just inside the camping/parking area of the Happy Valley Fiddlers’ Convention. Laura ...

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“When the Lightning Came ” by Jaye Hunter

Submitted to Contest #169

Content warning: Contains depictions of gender dysphoria. Does NOT contain transphobia/intentional misgendering. ------------------------------------------------------- I waited in darkness, paused amongst gravestones and decorated plots blanketed by stormclouds. A flash cleft the sky, a blinding display, lightning illuminating the plants and wild bouquets and trinket decorations arranged over the ground. Darkness returned. "Yes!" Crow yelled, incorporeal, from the far-off shadows before me. I applauded them. The beat of m...

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“It's only the first draft” by Falynn Almeda

Submitted to Contest #169

There really is no way to prepare for the sudden fear that goes right down your spine when a flash of lightning illuminates an area in the night with a ghostly white light and the area it briefly lights up is a graveyard. You become acutely aware that you’re surrounded by headstones and beneath them are bodies of those long gone. You also become aware (and terrified) that six feet isn’t actually that deep. Now, the chances of those not-that-deeply-buried bodies actually being able to get out their coffins and climb out of the packed d...

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Start your story with a blast of lightning casting a graveyard in a flash of brief, white light.

Submissions are closed

✍️ 36 stories

“Midnight Keeper” by Sarah Rich

“Remembrance ” by Jango MyHeart

“House Hunting” by KarLynn Erickson

“Penance” by Daniel Roueche

“A Night to Remember” by Kelsey Fish

“The Fiend of the Past ” by M B

“Happy Birthday, Susan” by Ralph Emery Barhydt

“Fear Dash” by DEBORAH CLARK

“The Guardian” by Daniel Doggett

“Forced Closure” by Lacey Hill

“The Tale of the Cemetery Willow” by Kyle Quande

“"Miracle"” by Jack Latreille

“The Happy Valley Fiddlers' Convention” by Doug McGuinn

“When the Lightning Came ” by Jaye Hunter

“It's only the first draft” by Falynn Almeda

🌟 Similar prompts

Start your story with a character encountering a black cat.

Write a story where someone sees the shadow of someone standing behind them.

Write about someone finding a monster under their bed.

Write a murder story where the murder weapon is the knife used to carve a pumpkin.

Contest #169

Enter our weekly contest!

$250

Prize money

253

Contest entries

109

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

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