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Start your story with someone finding an object labeled with their name.

Posted in Horror on Oct 25, 2022

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✍️ 36 stories

ID

Submitted to Contest #130

“Gina Fortier? Here’s your new New York State license, ma’am” the lady sitting behind the glass at the DMV slides Gina’s new license under the partition. Gina lets out her breath, not realizing she was holding it. She picks up the shiny new driver’s license. New York State. Gina Fortier. Sex: F. Eyes: BL. HT: 6-02. Gina wipes tears away from her eyes and rereads. Gina Fortier. Sex: F. For the last 14 years her ID said something different. SHE was someone different. When she came into this very same DMV at the age of sixteen, she was a yo...

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Chicken Scratch

Shortlisted for Contest #130 ⭐️

Chicken Scratch Squinting in the bright sunlight, a small boy scanned the yard. He watched the chickens doing their left/right kick-kick, kick-kick dance, sending up little puffs of fine dust as they scratched for edibles.  He liked watching them, and he also knew that their antics occasionally turned up interesting swag. Once, a long time ago - when he was four - he’d picked up a tiny soldier. Grandma took it away because she was afraid it could poison him, which he didn’t understand. Later, she gave it back to him all shiny and told...

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Heaven Sent

Submitted to Contest #130

Heaven Sent Replies (reply@heavensent.god)To: Matt Matheson (mmatheson@inlook.com) Hey son,   Please don’t panic and I know this is going to sound ridiculous but it’s your Dad here. I’m writing to you from beyond the pearly gates. Not sure how I managed it but it’s true, the big guy let me in! Apparently they let all the new arrivals contact one (and only one) of their nearest and dearest to let them know they’re safe and sound in the afterlife so here we are. Now I know what you’re thinking because I’d be thinking the sa...

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Pripovjedač

Submitted to Contest #130

“How are you, Ginger? It’s been too long!”The plump orange cat stares back at me blankly. Perhaps a little annoyed, even. Truthfully, I can’t blame her. I never have any food for her.“Really? Nothing?”I tentatively reach out my hand toward the open window where she's perched on the sill. When my fingers are mere inches away, she quickly rises, stretches, and jumps to the ground below. For a moment, it looked like she even rolled her dark green eyes.“So much for making friends,” I scowl after her. She'll be back when I’m making dinner, of cou...

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Lytton Blood

Shortlisted for Contest #130 ⭐️

LYTTON BLOOD Ann Martin My publisher told me it would only be a small print run and she wasn’t kidding. But at last I found it. Are Those Skeletons in My Closet? Written and illustrated by Pansy Lytton-Fosse. Not one, but six copies, in a tiny bookshop attached to a café just a couple of streets back from the seafront. It was under Humour and I’d been looking in Biography. When I thought about it, that made sense. I gazed with a motherly pride at my own cartoon cover of assorted eccentrics, con-artists and fruit loops peering out from ...

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Unfinished Projects

Submitted to Contest #130

That damn storm door. Always catching on – what? Nothing. Air maybe. The door itself. But never closing all the way. A damn nuisance, good for nothing but frustration.  Over a year that she’d lived in the house, with grand plans to replace the storm door. And that sticky sliding door in the back of the house. The one that doesn’t lock, so it’s got two security bars to keep it closed. Never mind the fact that it was almost 3 months into living there before she discovered the faulty lock. And the popcorn ceiling she swore she’d take down ...

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Once More

Submitted to Contest #130

I traced the letters with a shaking hand. I had to be sure my eyes were not lying to me. But that is what was spelled out. Violet Marie Howell There were no other words just numbers. No not numbers; dates. Dates that made no sense, I reached down and picked up one of the wilted flowers, pinching it in my fingers. I felt a prick and was actually glad to see the small spot of blood push to the surface. Okay, I was alive, not buried here in this lonely spot on this hill. I sat back and took a big breath. If this was some kind of joke it wasn’t...

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The Second Coming

Submitted to Contest #130

Inside the lid a plain white piece of card was stuck to the green felt lining and it had four handwritten words on it.“Property of Teper Naillian”It had started with a house move.The house move had been a success. Well, as much of a success as a house move ever is. The solicitors did their part quickly and without fuss. The funds were transferred, and the contract exchanged, and we had the keys when we were supposed to. The packing up had gone better than expected. The volume of collected detritus had been less than for previous moves. We ha...

18 likes 7 comments 7
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Not my box

Submitted to Contest #130

“Amanda Meyer.” It’s carved in primitive chunks on the underside of the box. My name. Not my box. It’s one of those ornately carved boxes you’d get for 50 cents at the gift shops in Chinatown, smelling of linseed oil and jasmine, or maybe rosewood? I examine all six sides. Petals radiate out on the top with unmatched mother-of-pearl chips embedded in the centre as the flower’s pistil and stamen. The sides are almost Celtic in their design: a ribbon of vine on either side of a continuous line of layered petals, each box corner decorated wi...

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The Statement of Officer John Burkle

Submitted to Contest #130

The pages reflect the little light that fills the room. They seem to beg me to pick them up and see what secrets they contain. I know what is written within, yet I burn to have my eyes glide over the words to see the story from another perspective. Finally, a clearing of the throat snaps my attention. Then, a nod, encouraging me to take hold and devour what lies ahead of me. I can no longer contain my curiosity, you see, and so, I grab the folder and begin to read.  My name is Officer Burkle, Officer John Burkle, and these are my acco...

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The Clean Out

Submitted to Contest #130

The Clean Out The  porch screen door is latched from the inside. I peer through the inner door window into the darkened hallway and the kitchen beyond. The overhead light is off and the chairs are pushed under the table. There’s no sign that she’s been in the kitchen.  No coffee cup and spoon. No plate and knife. No butter dish and sugar bowl. I pound on the window. “Aunt Kitty. Are you there?” No answer. “Are you there, AUNT KITTY?” I pound again, this time on the wooden frame of the door.     &n...

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The Crimson Bottle

Submitted to Contest #130

The door swings open to the tavern. A man staggers out, almost falling to the ground. He catches himself and grabs onto the reigns of his horse; his eyes meet mine. A faint smirk appears on his lips as he climbs on his horse. “ Why princess, been a long time.” My hand balls into a fist at my side, anger boiling underneath my skin. “ Don’t call me that.” I spat, disgusted at the man before me. “ I seem to recall a certain someone calling you that quite often, don’t you ?”. My heart begins to race. I had been gone two years, searching for what...

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Betrayal is Never Easy

Submitted to Contest #130

Rose shifted uncomfortably in her seat and then winced as it squeaked. She looked around in horror, but no one seemed to be paying any mind to the dirty little Earther. She knew it would be different in the sky, but she hadn’t expected it to be so clean. Her mother would have loved it here. She worked so hard to keep their home spotless, an impossible task on the dusty and dry surface of the earth. Rose watched as a few men in uniform spoke with each other on the other side of the room after one of them waved a hand in her direction. She kne...

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The Skeleton Key

Submitted to Contest #130

The Skeleton Key Clearing out the attic of her late fathers’ house, Annie comes across a chest covered by a layer of dust, wiping it off with delicate strokes, her name becomes apparent in the brass on top.  She carefully opens the lid, wondering what memories or treasures she may find inside. Peeking in she is surprised to find all it contains is a skeleton key which seems to be carved out of skeletal bone.  `This is the strangest thing’ she contemplates to herself. Her name is intertwined into the bow of the key in a lo...

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Order of the Cosmos

Submitted to Contest #130

The growl from the guys, working in the backroom, likely means that they’ve discovered a donation that is more trash than charity. I’ve been working in this thrift store for the past few years, the one behind the Piggly Wiggly, that raises money for the no-kill animal shelter. It isn’t like this was my life aspiration, but when I visited the shelter in search of a canine companion, the sad, sweet faces of the too many dogs broke my heart. I started volunteering just one day a week, which quickly morphed into being offered a very low paying,...

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