This coworker in particular hated city life, so he lived in the most rural area of the next county over. At least, I thought it was. So, after this party, I drove home, as I mentioned earlier. Everything was about as hunky dory as I figured it should be, myself intoxicated in the middle of nowhere, at the time when the moon was not quite set, nor the sun having begun to rise. As I drove, it was eeriely silent. I remember glancing over to my left, passing where a forest fire had raged through month beforehand.
The mangled branches had twisted garishly, as if they were bony and distraugt limbs outstretching to me, begging for mercy from the desolate world they resided. I shed a tear or two and turned on the radio. It was set to fairly old music, I remember. I hated old music. Now, I loathe it. Something about the way it made you linger upon the past forced my insides to churn, like the contents of a stew.
Feeling sick, I rolled down the window, an uncharacteristically cool breeze for August blew through. I noticed, groggily, that the window was slightly cracked and, worse, was not adjusted correctly. Grimacing, I forced the window back into place. As soon as I finish, a bright blinding light and sound attempts to embrace me. Luckily, I swerve away in time, narrowly becoming ensnared in the forest of char to my left and right. His beady white eyes gazing intently upon me like a devilish bird of prey.
He trembled, as if frightened, and yet this intruder lay in my car! What right did he have to fear when he was the threat?
His face was a shadow, in his hands he gripped somethign sharp, the crimson moon glinting into my eyes like a blinding and fiendish angel. In fear I carefully lay my hand down to below my seat, where a knife similar to his lay. My calm, collected eyes glared and shook back at me. In an instant, I turn around and stab the creature in my back seat.
He writhes in agony, screeching like the miserable banshee he was. He flailed his dagger at me, slicing my arm. But, it was too late for the creature. Officer, I beg you take my story and realize that I could never have killed my coworker, for he was buried in the woods by his house alongside the other guests there.
The man in my backseat must have been from the party as well, and was the true killer. Who knows what he could have done next? With a shock I was ripped from my peaceful dream.
Man, do I hate that damned ice cream van music! I always thought it sounds like circus music, but then with a creepy undertone. Who in the heck would play that at 3 AM!? As I stood at the window, amazed at the sight of the amount of kids going into the red ice cream truck, I heard a familiar sound.
Our screen door slammed shut. With horror I saw my 4 year old princess walk through our front yard, towards the truck. The man at the entrance, a dark haired and filthy looking appearance, beckoned her to enter the truck. Her little legs began to run towards him.
First story or not. I opened the window and jumped. I felt my ankle crack as I hit the lawn and crouched forwards, clenching my throbbing foot. When I raised my head, a fraction of a second later, the truck was gone. I looked everywhere, but there was no sign of it. I hurried back inside and called for help. The operator assured me police were on their way and told me to stay on the line until the officers were with me.
My wife had awoken from all the noise and commotion and asked what was the matter. He took our little girl! I let out a small gasp as the air around me shifted to blackness.
I widened my eyes as much as I could, as if it could help guide my way through the darkness. I took a deep breath in through my nose and almost gagged. It smelled moist, almost earthy. Then came the worse part. I suddenly smelled what seemed like rotting meat.
And it was strong. I groped in the darkness for a wall or something to grab a hold of. I plugged my nose as I saw a light at the opposite direction of me.
I smiled and started running toward it. I heard a voice behind me and suddenly I stopped. I shrug my shoulders, walking cautiously toward the light. I let out a small cry before I wake up.
I land on my bed with a thunk. I suddenly get a rush of relief, realizing that the experience was only a dream. And then I suddenly am rushed with horror. How did I fall onto my bed?
Aching slowly turned to slight pain. That week I decided to go to the doctor, but he said nothing was wrong, so I ignored it and it slowly went away. Until today, nothing had been aching, or burning but as soon as I grabbed a mug for coffee, it felt like my whole arm was in a burst of pain.
When I looked at where the pain was forming, I saw a bump. Being the curious idiot I am, I poked it and that sent my entire arm aflame, well felt like it. Turns out the bump was alive and moving. My blood ran cold and I immediately went to the E. When I reached there, the doctor had asked if I went to any rural places recently.
Confused and in pain I responded with a yes. The doctor sighed and explained that there was this shaman cursing everyone with ancient egyptian beetles that dug under your skin. The only way to remove it was to cut open where they are and remove it. However if they already laid eggs then you would have to amputate your arm. At this I was horrified. I, like any sane person would not want my arm to be chopped off and fed to ancient bugs. However it does seem that my arm has a bit of ache….
You open your eyes to complete darkness. The last thing you remember is the dog running out into the road, the brightness of the day light, and your car headed off the road.
As your head clears you realize you are hanging upside down. Your feet and legs are completely mobilized. You can hear something breathing in the room. The breathing stops, and you can hear soft footsteps, growing louder with each second. The breathing comes back, this time right in front of your face. Something wet brushes against your side. I am your worst nightmare. The next morning, you wake up.
You know it is morning because the there is light. It is extremley dim. As your eyes adjust, you realize you are in a cave. The first thing you see is a red towel wrapped around what you think is a body, and then you realize that is not its original color.
The rope swings around. A body, maimed and bloody, twirls on its rope. It looks like a girl of 4 or 5. AS you keep twirling around, you notice the whole room is filled with dead girls, young and old. Tortured us… And raped us.. This story is so capturing. One of the best I have read so far. Amazing writer, keep writing! Claire never thought that one day she would come home to find her son in her house.
They had a very good conversation about how they have been over the years. When he finally left, she called her doctor to tell him that her son was at her house.
The phone went completely quiet, she asked what was wrong? The doctor in a very panicky voice says Claire your son is in prison for life remember what he did to your beloved husband Daniel?
Then her son picks up the phone and says no need! Then in a twisted sick deep raspy voice he says doctor your next. Before the police arrived the doctor and Claire were both desposed of and the son already gone. It happens the same every single morning. In a creepy, stained clown costume. In their hand, I caught the glint of a knife. I kept my breaths as slow and deep as possible. Then, he turned and left, shutting my door behind him. I turn my head to the clock. The bleary blue numbers spit out a weak 4 am.
Outside my window, I hear the familiar tune of an ice cream truck, and my front screen door slamming shut. I slip out of bed, peer out the window, and there she is, my young daughter walking down the steps to a familiar clown costumed person, standing right outside a van. My daughter is not wearing her special glasses, but she is wearing her hearing aids. I hurry down the road, barefoot. My alarm clock screams, but I check on my child before anything.
My eyes flash open and flick to my clock. My door creaks open slowly…. Woke up early hours and 3 clowns at the foot of my bed all grinning. Oh no fell asleep with the TV left on. She mentioned cuddling and tickling each boys. Your room is dark, but you can see that there is someone, standing at the foot of your bed. You can just make out that he or she is wearing a clown costume, and you are pretty sure, from the glare and the little bit of reflection, that it has a knife.
You start to sweat. The clown takes a step closer. After all I am an old friend. You are now plunged into darkness as you hear a thump on the other side of the bed. Your only options are to find a flashlight or make it to the phone and call nine one one. You hear laughing as you see the silhouette of a clown standing before you. As the dust settles the clown is gone and a man in a blue uniform is standing over you.
My name is Officer Douglass I got a call a few hours ago about a breaking and entering at this address. This didnt help so thanks for nothing. I found it offensive that all of these stories involved children. I cant have kids. Some friends and I decided to go camping a warm weekend in October. We settled on an area of woods just south of town. David drove the truck with the large supplies and Sophia, his girlfriend.
We pulled into the parking area and jumped out. The boys took all of the heavy equipment to show off and us girls were stuck with items like food, first aid, and other such things.
I was digging through the backpack my mom packed for me and found condoms, toothpaste , and for some odd reason a baseball bat.
We started out and walked along the trail, we hiked for maybe an hour before the trail started to dwindle and become smaller. Jack chose a spot about 7 meters away from the path it was already hard to see, but he said he liked the idea of seclusion. We had three tents and decided the smallest tent David and Sophia could share. The boys shared the big tent and Sidney and I got the medium tent all to ourselves.
We set the tents up in a circle while Jack and I started a fire in the center. Ian was helping Sidney set up our tent. I noticed that David and Sophia were setting up their tent a little far back and away from the group. I decided I made a good decision to put them in her bag, I was going to sleep with headphones.
We got a spark for the fire and we all gathered large logs to sit on and started telling scary stories. He told a story about The Bunny Man Bridge. In my last relationship I told the one that broke my heart to go die in a hole, but he still thought we were bestfriends so it hurt more and more every time he acted like nothing was wrong.
I pulled my sweatshirt up over my hands and tucked them between my legs to make it look like I was cold, not avoiding human interaction. Next Ian told a story about The Dead Boyfriend. The boy and girl were kissing in a car in the woods. The boy got out to pee, after a while the girl got out to find him and saw a man so she got in the car and heard squeaking so she drove forward and turn around the boy was hanging from a tree.
He was using the car to stay alive. Sidney said she was tired so we all went to bed, except for David and Sophia, but that was expected. Sidney and I changed quietly and laid down. I put in my earbuds and started my favorite playlist. I drifted off and slept for maybe 2 hours when Sidney was shaking me awake. I pulled out my earbuds and she started talking. You can hear them snoring. It was true you could hear the exasperated breathing of David. I crawled out of my extremely warm sleeping bag into the chilly air.
When I unzipped the tent and crawled out Ian, Leo, and Jack were right there. The boys came into the tent and sat down. Ian walked behind Sidney and started massaging her shoulders. I had dozed off and was thinking about what movie to watch when I got home. If you want to know how to make extra bucks, search for: It was rainy night.
It was home alone watching Tv on the sofa I drank water and then the light turn off then someone knock the door it was strange knock I began to grasp quickly I ran and I started to hide under the bed it was my mom then into and hugged her. The last thing you remember is the dog running out into the road, the brightness of the daylight, and your car headed off the road. Your feet and legs are completely immobilized. I gasped awake the first thing that greeted me when I opened my eyes was darkness.
An empty never ending darkness that seemed to consume everything. My memory was nothing but a blur of sounds and colors.
The only clear memories that remained worried me. I remembered being on my way home when seemingly out of nowhere a dog appeared on the road causing me to swerve. I remember everything seemingly slowing down as I flew almost weightlessly through the air and over the guardrail.
Run as fast as you can and never stop running. You will be stuck in purgatory for all of eternity repeating your death and you scramble afterwards till you get caught again with no knowledge of ever being caught. Run for your afterlife. I slowly stood up as I heard rushed footsteps getting further and further away. I was about to leave too when out of the darkness came a blood-chilling growl.
I froze as two bright toxic yellow eyes seemed to hover past me causing my breath to catch. My mind began to go blank as the thick smell of rotting corpses filled the air strangling my quickened breath. I started slowly backing away from the creature being as careful as I could to avoid making a sound when suddenly my foot hit something causing a loud noise.
The hairs on my neck began standing up as I felt the creature get closer and closer. With a sinister mutated laugh, I was taken to the ground. I felt the creatures claws dig into my back as I screamed in fear and agony the sound of tearing flesh making my stomach tense.
I began swinging behind me with all my might hoping to land a lucky shot on the creature and make it get off me. I felt my hand come into contact with something furry before I heard a whimper and felt the creature get off me. I turned around and instantly regretted it.
I felt my limbs lock into place as my brain processed what it was seeing. The creature looked human but with stretched out gangly arms and legs. It was covered in fur that was so black it seemed to absorb all the light around it. Its nails were as long as my forearm and looked more like knives then nails. I watched locked in place as the creature crawled back towards me. In the blink of an eye, it had its teeth in my neck draining me. My body jerked for the final time as I closed my eyes.
The road ahead was shrouded in mist. I kept my foot on the accelerator and soon saw the terrific so called haunted house. I parked the car and looked at the house. This is where I was to live for the rest of my holidays. I thought about how Grandad had said about how much fun he has in this old rickety house and this neighborhood. I woke up at 6 the next day and saw my grandad reading his newspaper and sipping his coffee.
Fear is built off of understanding the consequences of an action for a character or the risk of their actions. So if your character decides to confront a clown in the attic or two men in a car, the reader will need to be aware of what the character could lose as a result of this decision.
The stakes of the character in the story are very high and very clear to the reader. So, when Howard does finally confront the moving finger, the reader is terrified of how the outcome is going to create a loss for Howard. Manipulate the reader but do not confuse them. Readers can either be confused or scared, but not both.
Deceiving or manipulating your readers through foreshadowing, shifting character traits, or a revelation of a plot point can all work to build suspense and create anxiety or fear in the reader. Build tension by alternating from tense or bizarre moments to quiet moments where your character can take a breath in a scene, calm down, and feel safe again. Then, amp up the tension by re-engaging the character in the conflict and then making the conflict feel even more serious or threatening.
Howard begins to feel safe or assured that the finger is not real, but of course, once he opens the bathroom door, the finger seems to have grown longer and is moving much faster than it was before.
King slowly builds tension for both the character and the reader by introducing the threat and then having it overshadow the rest of the story. As readers, we know the finger is a sign of something bad or possibly evil, and are now in a position to watch Howard try to avoid, and then eventually confront this evil.
Add a twist ending. You could have the character experience a moment of realization about the conflict or about how to solve the conflict. The revelation should be the result of a build-up of details in the scene or story and should not be jarring or feel random to the reader. This ending leaves the reader wondering what the officer sees in the toilet, and if the finger was real or a figment of Howard's imagination. In this way, it is open-ended without being too surprising or confusing for the reader.
Like any genre, horror has its own set of tropes and cliches that writers should avoid if they want to create a unique, engaging horror story. Or, add a twist to a familiar horror trope, like a vampire who enjoys cake instead of blood, or a man trapped in a dumpster rather than a coffin.
Remember that too much gore or violence can actually have a desensitizing effect on the reader, especially if the same pools of blood keep happening over and over again in the story. Of course, some gore is good and likely necessary in a horror story.
But make sure you use gore in a spot in the story that is impactful or meaningful, so it can punch your reader in the gut, rather than numb them or bore them. Analyze your use of language. Go through the first draft of your story and look at sentences where you have duplicated adjectives, nouns or verbs.
Be sure to make your language use and word choice fit the voice of your character. A teenage girl will likely use different words or phrases than a middle-aged man. Creating a vocabulary for your character that fits their personality and perspective will only add to their believability as a character.
Read your story out loud. You can do this to a mirror or to a group of people you trust. Horror stories began as an oral tradition of spooking someone around a campfire, so reading your story out loud will help you determine if the pace of the story is building steadily and gradually, if there is enough shock, paranoia, or dread, and if your characters make all the wrong decisions until they are forced to confront the source of their conflict.
If your story is dialogue heavy, reading it out loud will also help you determine if the dialogue sounds believable and natural. Have plot twists everywhere! And then make that plot twist false, obliging the reader to want to know the real truth. Or, you could reveal the guilty one at the beginning, so that reader is like "I can't wait for him to die! Or, you can even foreshadow it little by little and when it's obvious, change it to something that will cancel out the hints to the "truth".
Not Helpful 14 Helpful Find a picture on the internet that suits your story. Roughly describe that photo, but add a bit of a twist. For example, suppose the picture was of a forest: Not Helpful 1 Helpful Describe the spirit's intention, its story, how it died, its specific traits and how it reaches the protagonist.
Then discuss the ways in which it attacks the protagonist and makes life difficult at first, then scary for the protagonist. Take the scariness up a notch each time, until the protagonist is ready to be scared to death or needs to run away perhaps only to have the spirit pursue it. Not Helpful 10 Helpful You can make a plot twist shock by giving closure to the story yet still adding a question that will linger in the reader's mind.
Twists can include a sudden realization, discovery, or final scare. Not Helpful 11 Helpful Depends on what the horror is. A single word might be enough. For example, if it's about a spirit that chokes people, "Strangle" or "Gasp," might work. Question the readers' sanity, their perceptions of innocence and guilt, their sense of logic Play on their fears of what they may not understand or what they may lose.
Use these elements of horror at perfect levels, and you'll scare them spectacularly. Not Helpful 12 Helpful The key to making a horror story more memorable for the reader is to make special, distinct features in the story that other horror stories do not have. Include vivid, even eccentric descriptions and keep the reader lingering in fear of what might happen.
Not Helpful 9 Helpful Give the character with the powers an interesting backstory, show how they handle their powers, and don't overpower them to the extent that they become comical. It can be as long or as short as you need to tell a good story. You can create a horror story in as little as a few sentence or many book volumes. Say you want to write a story about some sort of ghost. Ghosts don't necessarily have to have gore.
They can do horrific stuff, like windows shutting and opening. But blood and gore are just some things to take your story to another level. Not Helpful 1 Helpful 8. Include your email address to get a message when this question is answered.
Already answered Not a question Bad question Other. Quick Summary One way to write a horror story is by brainstorming things or situations that scare you. Did this summary help you? Warnings Avoid repackaging proprietary material or the published stories of others, otherwise known as plagiarism. Things You'll Need A pencil or pen and paper, or a typewriter or computer with a word processor such as Microsoft Word.
I would include how to make up your own scary name and the best way to come up with it. A Anonymous Jul 7, AR Arsha Raj Mar 20, This was really good. MM Maxine Maspara Oct 23, Now I can write my own horror story, because I already know what to do and how to make my story exciting for readers. PA Patricia Alvarado Aug 9, I'm writing a horror story about zombies, and am looking for ways to make it more scary and fun. AC Alesha Colley Nov 22, It has taught me a lot, thanks.
My mates and I will get a good prize for the best story ever. JH John Huffer May 23, MW Maddison Walker Aug 22, Hard to fault your work with expert tips like these. CC Camila Cabello Nov 15, I asked Google how to write a good story and then this popped up. AM Annie Marie Oct 18, This site is very helpful.
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Jan 30, · Narrative Essay for English As I opened the door to the creepy old haunted house on my street, I started to think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. for though. that was wat confused denisseportal.tk begining and end were really confusing to me. this helped a little with the horror story i have to write. Reply Delete. humaira khatun.
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Horror Story Essay The Story - Words The Story The mainstream Christian belief that Jesus is the Son of God, fully divine and humanity and the savior of humanity. Isolation: Short Story and Mrs. Mallard. Isolation and loneliness In the following short stories Eveline written by James Joyce, The Story of An Hour written by Kate Chopin, and A Rose For Emily written by William Faulkner we find that isolation is a popular theme throughout the stories.