140 Horror Stories
By Jeffery Potts
My Mom gave me the doll she had since she was little but it was creepy so I threw it out. Every morning, however, I find it on the dresser staring at me.
My madness is the only thing that keeps me company- and threatens to kill me.
My wife and I used to try to scare each other; after her funeral, I heard her say, “you’re next.”
Her scream woke me.
“I had a nightmare that I died in a car wreck,” my wife sobbed.
I turned on the lights; I was alone.
“It wasn’t a dream.”
“Is anyone with us?” the medium asked.
I almost chuckled until she called my name and said my spirit was here.
I put my hands on the plastic planchette. Someone asked a question and I couldn’t help but answer it.
The Alarm kept ringing; I got up to turn it off when some people ran past me. Horrified, I saw I was in a hospital bed and flat-lined.
The officer was used to seeing blood stains, just not in his own house
Working alone as a mortician is only unnerving when I hear someone else breathing.
Only in the darkness do the shadows stop moving.
The nightmares are tame compared to what I see when I’m awake.
Preparing for my date, smiling at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, nothing prepared me when it didn’t smile back.
After the panic and the initial first breath, I slowly drifted off: drowning isn’t so bad.
The flowers are beautiful, just like her face, but after the burial, only the worms will know.
My Madness is only bad when I try to control it.
“I feel like I’m slipping from reality.”
“You’re in free fall,” said the voice.
The flowers look so pretty and I love seeing friends and family.I wish I could have more than one funeral.
The munching is maddening; I wish the worms would finish eating my ears. Being buried sucks.
“Dude, she’s so hot.”
“Dude, she’s dead.”
It’s our third date and I can’t wait to see him again, I just hate having to dig him up each time.
“I don’t know why you want to go.”
“It’s like a party where one person dances.”
“It’s a hanging!”
Her cool hand caressed my back.
“Please leave me alone.”
“You don’t like this,” she asked.
“I did when you were alive.”
Phrenology:the study of bumps on the skull to determine personality.
The knife slash, the tearing off of my scalp: she took the definition too far.
The sun peeked over the horizon and I lumbered away from the crossroads with a new talent from an old deal-maker.
Ghost tours are annoying because they keep reminding me how I died.
I swiped right and so did she; when we met, she laughed at my lame jokes and we ended up at her place: This was a fun hunt.
My husband likes to leave a flower next to me to see when I wake.There was another one this morning, even though he’s been dead a week.
I gave him the love potion, and soon he was choking and gasping for air; now, he can never leave.
I looked up and saw the sun was over my head, the noose was around my neck, and that’s when the stool was kicked out from under my feet.
“Burn the witch!”
Fools! I was no witch and the devil waits till you are desperate; and as the fires rose, that’s when he made the deal.
“I walk through the masses and with the slightest touch, I bring down civilizations.”
“My favorite tool is not hate, its love. When someone loves something more than life that’s when I do my greatest work.”
“Take away something that everyone needs and the fruit rots to the core.”
“Life: it’s like a game of hide and seek that I’ve never lost.”
The Adrenaline rush is like lighting through the blood, the wind whips past my face and I’m going to hit the street below in 3, 2,…
I bought the doll from the yard sale and put it on the shelf. Now, every morning, I find it on my bedside table staring at me.
I put up the dream-catcher and my nightmares have stopped, except now, I smell burning when I wake up.
By Haley JoAnna
“I can honestly say I didn’t think he’d enjoy the taste of arsenic.”
I was playing fetch with the dog. I threw a stick. He came back with a femur.
I woke up to something licking my feet. Then I remembered I don’t have a pet.
Surprisingly, his skull crunching under the tires was louder than his scream.
“I love my husband,” She said,” His kidneys tasted the best!”
He never noticed the small holes behind his ear until the spiders started to hatch.
By Christopher Michael Carter
Death, like most things, is better to give than to receive.
The bodies burn as the heat lines dance like hula girls on the beach while the sun gracefully collapses behind them. Beautiful...