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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of horror short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

6520+ Horror Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. From hauntings and murderers to terrifying creatures from the deep, our collection of horror stories will have you breaking out in cold sweats. Take a look… if you dare.

Horror Short Stories – Page 420 of 435

The forbidden attic

Submitted to Contest #64

Hi, my name is Laina. Not (A)laina, or (E)laina. Just Laina.I just turned fifteen and my mom is finally letting me go into our attic, I thought I’d share my experience with you.When she told me that no one had been to the attic in years, I thought that she was messing with me. The loud creak of the wood as I heaved the panel open proved that she had not been joking. I coughed harshly as dust rained down on me, covering me like I was a secret that no one wanted seen.I slowly crept up the pull down steps and shone a flashlight into the dark an...

18 likes 4 comments 4
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SIBLING TERROR

Submitted to Contest #64

Sibling Terror Nothing had been happening from the past week. The noises had stopped. Things had stopped missing and everything was in its place1. Everything has stopped being eerie in the night. Seeing the black-eyed kid for the first time on camera, a few days earlier had chilled him to the core. His conscience reasoned with him saying that it was probably a kid smoking copious amounts of meth and was in a bad state of mind but deep down inside they all knew that wasn’t true because their house was the only one on the highway and they ha...

9 likes 0 comments 0
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Never Accept Dinner Before The Third Meeting

Submitted to Contest #64

Never accept dinner invitations before the third meeting. Remember that.It was one of his grandmother’s many wisdoms. She had an opinion about everything. Everything. Once she refused to drive Jonas home because she saw a black pigeon on a fine Saturday morning, which according to her was inauspicious.“Pigeons can’t read the calendar, Grammy,” he had said.But there was no reasoning with his grandmother.Now, that he was sitting at the tables with Mclain's, the three meeting rules did not seem so absurd. Jonas tried to focus on anything o...

20 likes 0 comments 0
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Black Roses

Submitted to Contest #64

"Shut the curtains Herbert!" hissed Mother in a way that was unbecoming of her. Herbert looked back, his face pained with the surprise. After years of hearing nothing but a whisper from his mother, the increase in octaves felt like an unpleasant gift. He scuttled away from the curtain in an instant, his back taut and his head bent to the angle his mother preferred. He peeped at her from the mirror in the back, gazing upon her beautiful face. She was known for her distinctive features and had often been described as jolie laide among the serv...

11 likes 0 comments 0
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Something in those Whispers

Submitted to Contest #64

Satan was prayed from every single extremity of the world on this night of the full moon. It was believed that on this very night, the dark magic was utmost powerful and could destroy even the practitioner if mistaken.The wolves howled louder, the forests were quieter, the winds produced whispers, and the fear of awakening of the devil escalated all around. Every single human in that town stayed inside their homes, lighting the lamp of hope. It was believed back then if the lamp of hope was burning, no evil could harm an innocent, only if th...

27 likes 38 comments 38
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The Preserved Portrait

Submitted to Contest #64

For as long as anyone could recall, the house has always stood there. Entitled ‘The House’, seldom a night went by without whispered ghost stories, and nightmares that excluded it. It stood at the outskirts of the small town of Spirit, yet there always seemed to be at least one curious passerby milling around. Never strangers. The town was a tiny point on a map. Not so much a point, as a miniscule pinprick, as if several map makers with tuberculosis coughed, and a tiny droplet of blood had landed on a million maps. Everyone knew each other...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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CST Institution

S U

Submitted to Contest #64

“Poor thing, I really pity patients like her.” “You do?’” He looks around at the woman, she was holding a clipboard with a paper full of check boxes. “Yeah, she is stuck in that same delusion of hers for years.” “You really shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” “Hear? We are seeing her right now in the glass exhibit room.” “Or see.” He says with a tired sigh as he returns his gaze back at the woman in the faux room, panelled with a one-way glass. A cruel piece of modern technology, he thought. They could see her and she didn’t have any id...

10 likes 35 comments 35
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The Murder of the de la Marrs

Submitted to Contest #64

It had been years since the terrible murder of the de la Marrs, and people had been avoiding the old farmhouse since then. When Christina voiced her intention of buying it and turning it into a nice place where people can go for retreats, the mayor had questioned her motives multiple times. The place was cursed, he said. The spirits of the de la Marrs are still there, he said. Knowing Christina, she was never the sort of person who believed in curses, even though she believed in ghosts. And she certainly didn’t believe that the place was c...

9 likes 0 comments 0
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The Smiling Man: A Scary Story, or The Tragicomedy of a Maenad

Submitted to Contest #64

It was a pleasant day. Sara was cutting tomatoes in the kitchen. With each stroke, the knife cut cleanly and hit the cutting board with a thud. Sara cut with a regular rhythm. Each thud kept up the pleasantness of the morning just a little more, until it quivered, nearly fell, then was renewed by the next thud. The phone rang. It was David. “Yes, honey?” Sara said. David’s heavy breathing broke the pleasantness of the morning. “Lock the doors,” David said, his voice coarse and raspy. “Close the blinds.” “Is everything okay?” Sara asked. “Li...

11 likes 3 comments 3
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While the Roses Bloom

Submitted to Contest #64

The first thing that I recall when I think about the boarding school is that I had no memory of arriving there. I awoke, as if from a dream, to find myself standing completely alone on the vast stone steps leading up to the heavy wooden double doors. A vague memory of Papa yelling something at me faded to the back of my mind, and was gone before I could really grasp it. From where I stood at that moment, I could see directly below me, a rose garden. Roses of all colours seemed to be in bloom, and the path between the beds lead to a lake. Bey...

6 likes 0 comments 0
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The Lost And The Dead

Submitted to Contest #64

I frustratingly brushed off with the back of my hand the blood that had dried on my white tank top as I walked down the street. It was my first day of work after returning from my two-week-long out of town, I was yet to lay my hands on the new piles of paper works that were probably dumped in my desk by now, but I was already drained so far. My morning had already been so dreadful because of this dark red taint on my left rib just below my breast. It was too horribly obvious I was afraid it would raise suspicion to others and triggered ...

10 likes 0 comments 0
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The Strange Tale of Windsor House

Submitted to Contest #64

Before my grandmother died, she was sure about two things. One, that her knees would never give out, and two, there was something odd about this place that we call home. She could never seem to put her finger on exactly what it was. The thought of having to live in a manor didn’t sit well with her, as she had read one too many horror stories surrounding them. What can I say though, she was pretty much paranoid about everything. I usually disregarded her random episodes where she would leer out of her bedroom window, into the forest...

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Screams

Submitted to Contest #64

The screams just won’t stop. ­Every night, I hear them, echoing through the dark hallways of our house. Shuddering, I huddle into a corner, hoping that someone would hear them and send help. But I think that is too much to ask. Nobody has come before as well. Our house is on a hill, overlooking a village. Tonight, the bright moon shines a shimmering blanket over us, but there is not a soul outside. Wait! Is that a door creaking open? I pull back into a corner of the bed, eyes fixed at the door as it slowly opens. A little girl in a white fr...

18 likes 10 comments 10
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Children of Light

Submitted to Contest #64

Children of Light The house stretched on for as far as Lorraine’s little steps could carry her, standing proud in its majesty which was so apparent that the rusting pipes and the weed curling up on the walls went unnoticed; only adding to the splendor of the house. When the house ended, the garden rolled on reaching up to the forest at the back. Lorraine was perched on one of the low hanging branches of a tree so huge, it seemed to coil up past the clouds. The sun had begun to dip behind the trees as though it was running from the inevita...

13 likes 3 comments 3
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The house on the hill

Submitted to Contest #64

“It’s perfect,” exclaimed Walter. My heart felt like lead in my stomach. ‘No!’ I wanted to scream, ‘It’s everything but perfect. It’s horrible, dark, dank, and gloomy. You won’t find me dead in a place like this.’ “We’ll take it,” he continued. “WHAT?” That spontaneous exclamation could not be helped. The estate agent nearly jumped out of her skin, while my husband looked at me with a surprised lift to his eyebrows. “We’ll only sign a six month contract,” he said softly to me, “the atmosphere is just what I’m looking for, and if I finish my ...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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