Write a Short Horror Story Based on the Prompt Left by the Person Above You

ArchieTheFel

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🎃 Exactly as the title says 🎃

In celebration of almost-spooky month, I figured I'd make a fun little spooky forum game. Basically, it's just like the title says. You will respond to a prompt written by the person above you for a short horror story, and then you will come up with a prompt for the next person. Please see the rules and first prompt below!


RULES:
  • General RPNation rules apply, of course.
  • MAXIMUM of one sentence for a prompt. No run-on sentences to try and get around the rule, please!
  • Short story can be anywhere from the ever-popular two sentence horror story, to two paragraphs MAX.
  • Joke horror stories are allowed, because what's the point if you can't have fun?
  • All short stories are preferred to be original works.
  • Have fun!

A person wakes up in the middle of the night, only to find that their bedside lamp is no longer working.



Spooky stuff.jpg
 

planetbustingdog

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It was quiet, for a moment. The soft humming of the semi-malfunctioned bedside lamp had now begun to fade. The soft white noise of crackling electricity had abruptly stopped into a miserable silence, and the soft breeze that once whistled outside had disappeared.

The once gentle-faced child slowly obscured into an irritated, half-lidded squint. It was pure darkness all around, and the boy attempted an inkling of movement. But nothing came.

Darkness, and not a feeling tickled through his body, not a single breath nor the soft pop of separated wet lips. No cold nor warmth, no feeling. The boy tried to toss or turn, tried to yell or desperately sob, but nothing; an infinite expanse of darkness with not even the sight of a few fingertips to stimulate the boy. It was nothing... There was nothing, except a bright light that slowly manifested. Though there were no steps to take, the boy followed it, cautiously... Optimistically?

...

He woke up, finally, in a room too bright to be his room. The once dull orange of his lamp had been replaced by the ticking flick of a clock's arm. The sterilized air forced itself into his nostrils, and the boy began to cry, as he could move.. See.. touch...

"O-oh, he's... He's awake!"
- A few minutes later, a group of nurses barreled into the room, checking pulses, inserting IV's. The boy was confused as ever.

"I can't believe it... He was pronounced dead in his sleep; this rush to the hospital was mostly out of principle... My god... I just... I wonder, what did he see on the other side?"

What was there to see?


"A man lays down in a bed of flowers, noticing the greenery begin to grow rapidly around him."
 

Dandelions

Seize the Day
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"A man lays down in a bed of flowers, noticing the greenery begin to grow rapidly around him.”

(( Sorry if it’s two paragraphs too long, but I truly wanted to set a mood! This was a great idea for a game though! ))



He sat at the edge of a truncated stump, eyes cast upwards, witnessing the stars cascade down the navy blue sky. It was a thing of beauty. All the while, he was plain. A common man. The knowledge of the larger world escaped him, but his curiosity perked at the chance to glance at something as ethereal as the stars. He knew such an opportunity might never come again. What was it that made them burn ever so brightly? Did they cast a light midday? How far away were they truly from the present moment? His thoughts erred on shallow ruminations - a distraction from the very task at hand. Rough, calloused palms wiped a sweaty brow. Muscles tensed and relaxed from his stance upright when the force of gravity fell into his feet once again.

His gaze settled on the pebbles dusted with brown soil. The field of tilled Earth spread before him, rows upon rows of emptiness yearning to be filled with the smallest vehicles of growth, a seed. It was his life’s work, bone-aching and humble, but of utmost importance in his contributions to the world. He’d followed the steps of his father and his father’s father and every single man who’s been tasked on the upkeep of this land. In a way, he felt like a speckle of light in the trail that his family blazed. Perhaps, there was a similarity to found between him and the stars. Perhaps, there wasn’t.

He wasn’t aware that he lost his balance until he was already free-falling into the ground he’d just spaded. His vision grew hazy with the weightless feeling of his stomach that threatened to shove up the contents of mashed potatoes and beans from dinner unto his mouth. He hated the taste of bile so he willed his eyes closed, desperately trying to envision something else. Something serene. Something beautiful. He imagined himself laying down a field of gardenias and freesias. Their illusory scent wafted and waned as he felt his body sink deeper into the ground. Not wanting to let go of his limbs, its leaves, roots, and tendrils wrapped around him like a blanket. He was covered in beauty. Or so he thought.

He felt something sting.

A prickly pin dancing on the surface of his skin. His first thought was thorns piercing at the delicate flesh, but how could it be? He envisioned no roses. Upon opening his eyes to blinding rays of light, he found his answer. He was burning ever so brightly. Like the stars. A man on fire.



Prompt: A shadow followed them home.
 

planetbustingdog

Destroyer of worlds, eater of treats.
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(( I hope it's not in bad taste to write another short story in this thread. It's just great creative exercise! ))

A shadow followed them home.

The wind howled slowly in the boy's ear. In his hand, his little sister's small fingers embraced his own, webbed in a tight knot of affection.
"Danny... I saw something."
"A possum maybe?"
"No.. Something dark... Yet darker..."

It was almost too obvious, the void casted by the iridescent glow of the street lamp above them, merely a few metres from their home. It was the shape of a man, as if god carved out the very essence of reality for his creation. Too dark to be a night-time reflection of a human being, but simply an absence.

The small waddle of the girl, and the confident stride of a growing boy turned into fearfully quick treads towards the front door of their home. So close, yet the absence followed them; like footprints in the sand, it rode the coattails of their own shadows towards their home, before finally stopping as Danny desperately fiddled with his key into the lock of the door. The tension was cut short by a guilty chuckle from the young girl.
"Oh, D-danny! Haha... It... It was my shadow! With my new hat on, it looked like a pair of horns... I-I'm sorry for scaring you too!"
"Huff.... Alice, I-I wasn't scared... I only sped up b-because you looked afraid!"

The boy's motions soon slowed down to a crawl, as he patiently flicked through his chain of keys, inspired by a sense of relief. The garage, the backdoor...
Two seconds.


Two seconds, expended by the children's own sudden comfort, allowed the man who followed them home to grip two rugged, dirty hands on Alice's shoulders.

"The bird's song turned into a chanting screech..."
 

hopenalive

The dagger to the sword
The birds song into a chanting screech. As if it was being slowly squeezed and released over and over until it no longer made any noise. The woods was now flooded with dead silence. Not the city folk silence. No- real silence as if the burbling brook had also turned off to add to the feeling of impending doom. There were no known predictors in the woods. But as I stared into the cold dead eyes of this two legged beast that somehow resembled myself. But... Wrong.
 

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