365 Horror Shorts Vol. 2

 My sister and I huddled around as my grandmother pulled a book from her shelf of many stories. The book was a dark green and leather bound with gold trimmings and lettering that seemed to glow as the light hit it. My grandmother was a master storyteller and my sister and I were obsessed with each story she would tell. She once mentioned a challenge she had done many years ago. One where she attempted to collect a new story every day for an entire year! That must have been incredibly challenging. I can barely keep up with doing anything everyday for even a month. A year is insane. She called her collection three hundred and sixty-five horror shorts. I think she even mentioned getting this collection published. However, she had issues getting ahold of the person, or people, who wrote the stories. They are apparently incredibly hard to reach. Sometimes seeming to disappear off the face of the earth for months. But this writer's works, though fewer now, were always exciting to rea...

 Often times the longest days involve the darkest of nights. And as I sat in my car, smoking my cigarette, I pondered about life as my eyes were transfixed on the night sky. The stars sparkled in varying patterns, each spaced apart as if some grand design existed just to fill my eye with a moment of glee. As I got huffed the last portion of my cigarette, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. It was a shadow that seemed to effortlessly glide across the ground as whoever cast it walked through the park under the many streetlamps. I turned my head to further transfix my mind on the person. It appeared to be some guy in a hoodie. He had a hat on, possibly a beanie. He bobbed his head to some invisible beat as he walked. He made me feel uneasy in a way I couldn't quite describe. I tossed my cigarette butt out and rolled up the car window. I turned the key and my engine roared to life. I needed to get home. Glancing down at my car radio, I saw that it was nearly midnight...

 The static on the radio crackled over the sound of music as I pulled the chicken nuggets out of the oven. The static would come in and out, masking out individual words of the song as if it was a form of censorship. I took the chicken nuggets out of the oven and gently sat it down on the stovetop. I took the oven mitts off and twisted the knob on the oven to turn it off. I had to back away from the kitchen for a few moments to escape the intense heat. As I left the kitchen, I joined my baby in the living room. She had a cartoon running on the television that her eyes were transfixed to. She would laugh the cutest little baby laugh you'd ever hear. It was impossible not to crack a smile upon hearing it. It was adorable. As I waited for the chicken nuggets to cool, I plopped down next to my child. Her name was Charlie. We named her after her grandfather. We just wished he could have seen her before he passed. It hadn't taken long before her show had ended. I could hear h...

 Do you ever feel like you're being watched? Even when there's nobody around. You're all alone in the dead of night. In a room where there are no windows, no cracks between the doors. There's no way someone could be watching you, as there is no way anyone could be peering in. And you're the only person in said room. It makes no logical sense, and yet you still feel that pair of eyes burning into your skin. Well, you can throw away that entire concept. See, even though it may seem impossible for someone to be watching you, I have still found a way. I stand still and wait in anticipation as you stare blankly at your phone. Your brain has turned off for the night. Emptying it even further as you scroll on to the next piece of blind entertainment. If you'd only turn your gaze just ever slightly higher than your phone, you might see the glistening of my eye through the crack in the door. If you were only a little more attentive, you might hear my breathing agains...

 When it's the dead of night, the whispers are easiest to hear. The whispers of those beyond ourselves. As I lay awake in bed tonight, I stare up at the ceiling and wonder why I am the only person who can hear them. Am I crazy? Is this where I lose my mind? Normally the voices are easy to ignore. They say mundane words like "Fight" or "Door" but today it's far more than one voice, and it appears to be getting closer to me. What are these voices, you may be wondering. Are they all in my head? Some form of premonition? Ghosts? The truth is that I don't exactly have an answer for you. I have never really explored these voices beyond just hearing them. For all I knew, I had a metal plate in my head and I've been picking up radio signals or something. I doubted that though, as there was never any static in my head. Only the voices. And right now the voices were so many that it was hard to make anything out. I think I might have heard the word ...

 I sat down and took a deep breath. Those thoughts were creeping in again. Thoughts I didn't want to have. Disturbing thoughts. I shut my eyes tightly and tried to imagine anything else. Trying to push them away. I took a few more deep breaths before a voice interrupted me. It was my mom. "Heather," she said. "Are you okay?" My eyes shot open and I looked up at her in shock. I brushed my hair out of my face and shakily responded, "Yeah, I'm fine." "What's wrong?" she asked, taking a seat on my bed next to me. "You know you can talk to me." "Trust me, mom," I insisted. "It's nothing. I just had a headache is all." She patted my leg before standing up. "I'll go get you some water," she said. She headed out of my bedroom door and turned back to me with a quick glance to shoot me a smile before continuing on her way. I stood from my bed and closed the door with a sigh. Why did ...

 I grabbed my phone by my bedside and turned the screen on. It was almost refreshing to have a hint of light shining through the darkness of my bedroom. It was yet another sleepless night and I was struggling to fall asleep. I saw no new notifications, so I unlocked it and went straight to watching some videos online. They were nothing too interesting. A mix of theory videos and gameplay for games I'd seen people play a million times. There was nothing new. That's when I saw a new notification pop up on my screen. It was from an app I'd never heard of. It read, 'Can't sleep? Try this!' Out of curiosity, I tapped the notification. I half expected something to happen but there was nothing more than my phone screen turning black. I waited for a few seconds, believing that the app must be loading. I didn't exactly have the best phone in the world. It usually lagged when loading up the most basic of things. I'd been considering upgrading it, but I hadn...

 I took one final sip of my coffee. It was still hot. I hadn't given it much time to cool down. But from the situation unfolding, I knew I had to get out of the coffee shop quickly. It was 10 in the morning and someone had wandered in and started to pick a fight with the lady behind the counter for spelling her name incorrectly. It looked like the lady behind the counter had grabbed another cup and rewrote the obnoxious woman's name. The woman was still disgruntled. This wasn't the thing that set me off though. It wasn't until she pointed out a tattoo on the cashier's arm that was hidden beneath her work shirt sleeve. It was a rainbow flag. The woman began to get vicious. Calling her names and saying that her life choices were going to be the end of her. She was loud and threatening and wouldn't just let the poor worker exist. The poor lady was on the verge of tears. You could see from the look in her eyes that she was holding them back as hard as she could....

 Writing books is always supposed to be a simple thing. You sit before your computer with an idea and you brainstorm. The ideas conjure and flow into your mind as you carry the story through. You'd pinpoint the sections you want to add more details to. You might scrap some scenes that don't fit with the flow of the story, and you carry on. Sometimes stories go through various rewrites. But sometimes, in that very rare instance, there's that one story that enters your mind and you feel the need to write the story, uncorrected, until it's very end. This is what was happening to me. The story itself came from nothing. I simply sat before my computer and let my fingers type and my mind do the rest. Normally this is the process I undertake when I sit down to write. I don't have a plan, I just let the words flow free and eventually create a story out of it. It's like a road you've never traveled before. You know the twists and turns. You know the careful speed...

 If you asked me where I saw myself in the next ten years, I would have told you something hopeful and imaginative, like an astronaut or a chef. Something that might inspire hope. But that all changed the day I met my hero. It was a convention, much like any other. Crowds of people were dressed up as their favorite characters from movies or comics. As for me, I was dressed more casually. I wasn't there to cosplay, I was there to browse. I'm a little introverted, so drawing as little attention to myself as possible sounded the best, and the best way to do that is to not wear an over the top costume. I made my way through a massive room with stands set up, advertising the booths with famous people standing behind them. Many of the greats were there from shows and movies I'd seen once or twice. The main reason I was here was to meet my hero, Steven Hatchback. Steven was the guy behind so many of my favorite movies. Everything he came out with was a hit. Everything from ...