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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

“The Strange Disappearance of Old Man Sam” by B Easton

Submitted to Contest #102

        Mother used to tell me to never judge a book by its cover, so when everyone called Old Man Sam a witch, I knew better than to jump to conclusions. Just because someone runs through the neighborhood covered in blood every Tuesday doesn’t mean there’s not a good reason behind it.            I reckon I was about seven, when I finally worked up the courage to walk up to his front door and knock. As it turns out his house was quite rotten, and m...

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“The unwanted” by Laura Dvoran

Submitted to Contest #102

Waking up to a thunderous clap surprised even me a deep sleeper and rarely do I get startled by such a noise, but this was one for the books. I was dreaming very intently when all of a sudden I swore I heard a loud boom and I woke up instantly and gazed upon my surrounding and thought a gun had gone off or worse yet a lightening strike very close to home.I gathered myself and walked carefully out of my bedroom towards the living room to see what had happened and I found that there was no electricity and the room was very still. I heard nothi...

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“The Door Maker” by Cassi Rasmussen

Submitted to Contest #102

The Doormaker walked along the street every day with many wooden doors strapped to his small wagon. Some people thought he was desperate for an extra nickel, and selling doors was the only way in his mind to do so. Most just thought he was crazy.It was well known that he carved the doors himself. The elementary girls and boys would tease that he carved the hinges with the bones of children and polished the wood with blood. It was about as crazy as selling doors door to door, but I suppose every small, boring town needs its own horror story.&...

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“Diary: Midnight Brownies and a Short Story” by Ellita Styles

Submitted to Contest #102

Shortest stories often have the most beautiful parts, because they aren't lengthy enough to the point that you can already decipher what’s gonna happen next. Or perhaps there are loose ends which you could change into a different interpretation. Or maybe it’s just a piece of brownie- delicious, yet insufficient no matter how many you consume. I was about to write about a sad story, but brownies flipped my frown to a smile. So I guess it will be a happy story now. However, what is a happy story? Should I write about brownies then? No…. How ...

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“The Witch” by Anvi K

Submitted to Contest #102

Me and my friend are walking back home from the park. All the houses in that neighborhood were empty, except one. “That is the old witch’s house” my friend says, pointing to the house with a green light glowing. “How do you know? Are you even sure she is a witch in the first place?” I ask him. “I don’t know but Alex and the other boys in school say that she is. Do you think she is a witch, Darby?” “I don’t know. I have never seen her before.” Just then a figure comes close to the window. It was neither slouched nor perfectly straight. “Look...

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“Boo Radley- who?” by Eshita Meduri

Submitted to Contest #102

“Are you kidding me? This is literally the worst of the worst-case scenarios!” The not-so-subtle eyebrow twitch and shudder that followed Mrs. Merryweather’s comment would’ve had you believe that there was a serial killer on the loose. Could you blame her, though? Granted, her reaction was a tad dramatic; however, in a small town like Xenoville, things don’t take time to explode. Your everyday run-of-the-mill pick-pocketing also gets the attention of the whole population. “What else can you expect? We all know--” The ever-so grumpy Mr. C...

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“Mysterious Man” by Alanna Resto

Submitted to Contest #102

Before you read this story be reminded its not real, its all fictional facts and events. I like to make the story more realist to grab the readers attention by adding more effects and scenes rather than just planning an event in this case Sara being kidnapped when she was little and escaped and then gets kidnapped again when she's older and wasn't the only girl their. It wouldn't grab anyone's attention if their wasn't a past behind Sara nor current events of the kidnapper and other so called "victim's" I hope you like the book I took a lot...

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“The Mysterious Woman” by Valerie Preston

Submitted to Contest #102

They both cast their eyes upwards towards the old house.  The red brick looked stark against the greenery surrounding it and the old clay roof tiles, a different red to the bricks, were dotted with dark moss, like greens on a pizza, with some tiles missing. A big piece of tin flapped in the wind on the side and it looked as if it could have been nailed on to the roof at one stage to probably  keep out the rain. The upstairs windows were wooden, with big strips of paint peeling off them and the exposed timber was grey underneat...

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“Lady Undead ” by Gianna Nevoso

Submitted to Contest #102

      Myra lived on a tilted, dead-end street. Deep woods at the bottom and the bustle of small-town life at the top. The neighbors were close-knit, nosy, and incredibly stingy about people staying off their lawn. It made games hard, but not impossible. Any game could be played if the rules changed to fit the circumstances. In a game of hide-and-seek, Myra knew that applied. The game changed with the environment.            The moon had just risen in the sk...

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“STICKY NOTE” by Abe Baron

Submitted to Contest #102

Avery grabs an inch and a half thick vampire book from the newly polished shelf, without even thinking about reading. She would rather doze off reading than die of boredom, waiting for her always late cousin.Good thing their vacation house has some book collection to keep her company.She flips through the pages, inhaling the smell of old and dusty paper. Who would have thought that a book’s scent could be nostalgic? Skipping the pages brings her to page 143 where a sticky note lies saying, “I’ll see you tonight.” Those warm words caressed he...

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“maybe, maybe not” by Shay Ashford

Submitted to Contest #102

maybe i was eight when i first saw him, maybe not.it was a humid summer evening – the type where air is trying to suffocate you instead of trying to help you breathe; where time flows into a blurry jumble of laughter, dirt and fresh cuts from falling wrong; where you can’t remember exactly what happened, only what came with it – red cheeks, bright eyes, childhood joy.i remember cycling home – maybe i was alone, maybe i wasn’t. i remember stopping on the road, balancing my little feet on either side of my candy red bike, staring into the fore...

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“A Mysterious Figure” by Kir Fowler

Submitted to Contest #102

I blew out a puff of air that made my bangs fly up and then take their place again, impeding my vision. I'd been sitting at my window staring down at the park and street view. Lately, there had been reports of a teenage male around sixteen wandering the streets at night. But anytime someone tried to talk to him, to tell him to go home, he would disappear. I'd been hoping to see him tonight. I looked over at my clock, 12:45am. I looked out at the street. It was a suburb so there were pretty two-car garage houses with their automatic porch lig...

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“The Stranger in the Lightning” by Craig Grant

Submitted to Contest #102

The lightning strikes were close. I could tell because the thunder crashed instantly after each bright crack split the sky, the rumble resounding through my bones.  I had always loved thunderstorms. The feeling of apprehension as the black storm clouds rolled in, slowly being overwhelmed by the looming darkness, the wind slowly picking up before gusting, turning a still afternoon into a sudden violent torrent. Then of course watching with anticipation for each bolt of lightning that would brighten a dark sky, turning a black night in...

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“Him” by Shrutika Tiwari

Submitted to Contest #102

The engine roars again in the stillness of night. A loud bang startles me. My window is open, again. I leave the comfort of my blankets and tread quietly towards the guest room impoverished of human touch for years. The window is faulty, much like everything in this house. But fixing things will have to wait till I graduate Highschool and can work full-time somewhere; cause mama can't. Not with her unstable CNS and physiotherapy sessions we can barely afford. Windows are the symbolism for reluctance. We would laugh over the Geeky Engl...

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“Not Who We Thought She Was” by Samantha Brooks

Submitted to Contest #102

TW: Mentions death/murderI won't ever forget Winnie Baumann.It was the summer of '92, I was thirteen at the time. Winnie Baumann just moved into the big, yellow bricked home three houses down from mine.She was a small, plump old lady, not even reaching my 5'4 frame. With grey hair, and beady brown eyes hidden behind thick brown glasses, I'd guess she was well into her sixties, though you'd never know with how energized she was all the time.There was always a smile on her face, and she greeted the new neighbours like they were already her fri...

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