DailyLit readers have been busy writing up their 50 Word Frights, this month’s creative challenge on DailyLit. This is the challenge (in case you missed it): in exactly 50 words (no more, no less), tell the creepiest, scariest, most chilling story you can possibly imagine.
Here’s a scary sampling of the 50 Word Frights to get us all in the spirit (so to speak!) of Hallowe’en. And if you feel inspired, there’s still time to add your own 50 Word Fright here.
Al.Norm writes:
She imagined the office as a stone face, carved out into a cave. Torches lining the walls replacing the florescent lights overhead. Talking and keyboard typing bleed to whip-cracks and moans. Ringing phones to screams. At the end of this cave a door awaits, she opens it-her annual review waiting.
cindalu writes:
Surrounded by darkness, the television flickered in muted colors. Startled out of monotony, I sat up. There it is again – what was that noise? A creak, a groan, a sigh. I turned slowly towards the door and screamed, “Noooooooo!” There stood my father, in his underwear. I am forever scarred.
dreamdust writes:
The dark side of marriage is well-known to insurance adjustors. The suspect sucides, slightly accidental deaths…black widows who smile. Hired hit men for those who can’t stomach doing it themselves. Until death, doesn’t seem so romantic, anymore does it?
gpasser writes:
Five. Five is a number. She knows that much. Eyes fixed on her hand, fingers outstretched, palm vertical, like the frozen underbelly of a leaping spider. Five. Headache, fierce. Soft digestive sound. Shining in the blackness, a slab of gray tissue, torn into pieces. Five. Her hand starts moving. Slowly.
hex70503 writes:
The thing still skulked on the porch, its grimy jester-like apparel jingling in the October night. “I have none!” he cried from the suddenly chilly house. He staggered over, opened the closet to get his sweater, and as the hands dragged him into the blackness of the closet, it laughed.
JWHardin writes:
His mount gone lame, his water gone, he crawls along the ground
In search of shelter, a hint of shade! But wait, what was that sound?
His heart near stops at the deadly buzz! A blur towards him flies!
The rattler strikes, two fangs burn deep
Between the cowboy’s eyes.
Magdalene writes:
I stop. Listen. Know it listens, too …
To my ragged breathing. To the steady splats of blood; my flesh in tatters.
It has teeth; I know that much. And a feral sense of humor, else I’d be dead already.
Hard luck missing that last taxi.
Oh God, I …
rdwikoff writes:
With her back to the wall, she listened for his footsteps. He was coming for her. Her breath, icy white puffs against the black night, was the only sound audible. Her eyes strained to see any movement. The scream she let out when he grabbed her was so desperately brief.
Teachergorman writes:
The perfect darkness swallowed everything but sound. The scream lodged itself in my throat; I wanted to surrender to my terror, to let it know where I was and end this cat and mouse game. But I could only shake and cry as the claws came scraping down the hall.
To read more 50 Word Frights, or, if you feel inspired, add your own, you can check them out (or check them in!) here.
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