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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write about a mysterious figure in one’s neighborhood.

Posted in Horror on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 205 stories

“Schizophrenia- My Knight ” by Yuki LangShan

Submitted to Contest #102

TW: mental illness As a child, I always used to be in a special atmosphere. No matter if I was at school, home, or any other place, my parents would always over protect me. And there was no literal reason.   Once when I went to a restaurant, as a 6-year-old child, my mother held my hand tightly, so that I wouldn’t astray from her. My parents would make me sit in their middle, so that people won’t see my presence. They won’t mock me, or talk about how I look, talk, or behave.   I always felt vigorously weird.   Then, when I sta...

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“Never Talk To Strangers” by Lisa Lacey

Submitted to Contest #102

When I was 10 years old two strangers came to my small, rural town. One was a little boy named Roger and the other one wanted to kill me. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. In fact, it wasn’t until just a few moments ago that I even remembered Roger or the odd events of that day. I was in my third year of college studying pre-med and it was the first day of classes for the new semester. I was running a bit late finding my biochemistry lab. The hallways were a maze full of other confused and rushed students and the now familiar sce...

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“Widow's Walk” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #102

           She was a mysterious woman that sparked my curiosity.  It is not that I was interested in her in ‘that way’, as I am far too old and she far too young. It is just that when I go for my nightly walk, I see her at the same place on the very small balcony that juts out of a dark old two-storey house. Where she is standing used to be called a ‘widow’s walk’, an old-fashioned term that readily conjures up a story.  It is rather like ‘widow’s peak’, a vee-shaped ...

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“The Mysterious Mr. Doak” by David Dicaire

Submitted to Contest #102

The new subdivisions had been assigned different individual colours.  There was the blue, green, red, yellow, orange, purple, pink and violet neighbourhoods.  It was a very interesting idea. They were dubbed a certain colour because they featured the many shades of that individual tint. For example, the Blue Neighbourhood boasted houses that were cyan, steel, sky, electric, teal, pigeon and azure. The streets were painted blue and all of the buildings that weren’t house dwellings were painted a blue hue. This made organ...

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“The other side” by Jane May

Submitted to Contest #102

The exact date or time when she moved next door I do not know. I never heard any of the noises that accompany the transportation of huge boxes and furniture. I did not hear the voices of excited neighbors welcoming a new tenant. I should have heard, the walls do not block out sound, especially human. She suddenly appeared one morning, by the door while I was spraying the garbage bags with a disinfectant and startled me. The door had been locked for over a year. I lowered my mask and smiled, said hello in a slightly surprised tone. “I am in ...

2 comments 2
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“The Biggest Celtic Knot in the World” by C. Icarus

Submitted to Contest #102

They say that about twenty minutes walk from the village, deep out in the moor, there is a house where no one is supposed to go. The house is tiny, so small that every time it storms, someone brave goes up after to stand at a safe distance and see if it is still standing. It’s almost like a house made by a child for a doll; a construction of mud and straw that looks enough like a house but is, in truth, too cramped and unstable for anything to dwell there. The walls are short and the roof sags low and no one could live there.  And yet...

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“The Butterfly Collector” by Gideon Leek

Submitted to Contest #102

I have never been good at taking in the scenery. Others always had to point things out to me. I never spotted the robin on the branch; I never saw the snake in the grass. For me, turtles that looked like rocks were just rocks or turtles. I never could appreciate a world filled with many things, but only individual things one at a time. I felt no pang of envy when someone would point out a rabbit in a snowdrift. I did not care. I never understood why others cared. I knew there were rabbits that hid in the snow and rare birds that visited fam...

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“A Gentle Giant” by George Davis

Submitted to Contest #102

In Gratia Amicus Meus—George Davis   He lived in our neighborhood, for as long as I can remember. For some reason, he liked me. Often when I was out playing, he would stand behind the chain link fence, standing erect and still. He never was much for conversation. Many times I approached him, talked to him without his not commenting, just staring at me with a slight grin. His long white, stained beard seemed to blow in the wake of his utterances, on the occasions, he spoke to me.    Most of the neighbors avoided any...

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“BLIND-FOLD” by Sharmishtha Saha

Submitted to Contest #102

“Sir I didn’t kill him. And why would I do so when I don’t even know him?” Sayra said with a persuasive tone. “Every murderer says the same thing mam. Speak the truth I’m too exhausted to listen all your crap.” said the officer with roaring insolence. Sayra covered her face with her hands. Tears came rolling out. This ordeal was agonizing. She said in a very low tone “believe me I didn’t do anything. Somebody is framing me in.” “Your neighbor has given statement against you. He is the eye-witness.” the cop said with the same croaking voice. ...

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“Curiosity Almost Killed The Cat” by Lily SW

Submitted to Contest #102

Walking in the dark is scary. I don't like how the entity distorts your place. And how the encompassing sounds wash out by my heartbeat. It's disconcerting. To know how small I am in the grand scheme of things. How lost I can be but how natural it can feel too. But there's this feeling of being watched that makes me feel like prey, like a shining fish circled by vultures. I walk faster, feel the ground harden beneath my step, and the wind sharpens. The cutting air is refreshing; it invigorates me to carry on, that it's working. I don't actua...

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“EYES THAT DON'T SEE” by YASMEEN NAA KWALEY QUARTEY

Submitted to Contest #102

When Mum first told me we were moving, it did not sound as pleasing as she thought it. I was so mad about the whole lot of changes that were bound to take place – changing schools, making new friends, meeting new neighbors, you name it. And who ever moves to Hoodsville? I mean, the name sounds to creepy to be real. To set it straight, I had my qualms about it but Mum was way too frustrated to hear me out; she had barely been herself since Dad’s passing. I understood -or maybe not.  All she has now is me, and I know she only wants w...

2 comments 2
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“The Descent” by Babika Goel

Submitted to Contest #102

Authors musing-Arjun from Mahabharata was a warriorAnd faced a dilemma as a barrierTo do or not to do made him weakerWho else but Krishna stepped in as a preacherStages of life were explained deeperFrom duty-bound to being a renouncer All came in a particular order5000 years since then have passed in leisureFrom seeds to weeds, all are in disorder.I, an eternal seeker, asked why can’t all this be better?Why can’t Krishna and Arjun live among us as trendsetters?I let my thoughts run wilder And penned down their descent like a writer...

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“Jagged” by Katelynn McPhee

Submitted to Contest #102

I eat my cereal in a hurry, careful not to spill any milk. I had slept in: my baby brother had kept us up half the night crying and wailing. The news on the TV was no longer new. Jagged the serial killer was still on the loose somewhere in Maryland. Jagged got his name from the way he killed: jagged cuts of a knife along each of the victims' limbs. However, he was a quick killer: there was always evidence that the throat was cut first, quickly. He just liked to give his dead victims more cuts. He was described to have sandy brown hair and bl...

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“The Lemon Drop Man” by Mary R.

Submitted to Contest #102

I was way too young to have heard the words stranger danger when I first saw him. He was sitting on the curb in front of the old bookstore at the end of the block, sunshine streaming through his scruffy white hair, mischief dancing in his crystal blue eyes. He was eating candy while reading. Those little sugary lemon drops that kids love but adults think are repulsive. I was on my way to the park. Eight years old. The age when you begin to think that you have things figured out, yet everything is still new and different. The age when you hav...

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“The Mysterious Figure” by Keiko Canonita Ong

Submitted to Contest #102

The house that stood at the edge of the town was gloomy. The walls were covered with moss and creeping vines. The roof was missing some tiles and in the front porch, dead, fallen leaves lay scattered everywhere. Whenever anyone passed by the house, the wind would blow ever so gently, sending chills down the spine. The windows were always kept tightly shut, and when the moon danced in the sky, not a single lamp was lit inside the house. Who lived there? Mr. Garth did. It was said that Mr. Garth’s parents had lived there, and his grandparent...

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