View 365horrorshorts’s Linktree to discover and stream music from top platforms like Spotify here. Your next favorite track is just a click
If you enjoy my daily horror stories, I've created a linktree where you can check out my:
Blogspot: Where a post the new horror stories as soon as I write them
Substack: Where the new stories will be posted the very next day, 10am cst
Spotify: Where I read the stories aloud to haunt your eardrums
and TikTok: Where I will be posting behind-the-scenes stuff about each story as they are written
So, if you want to support me and the daily horror writing challenge I'm doing, it's all greatly appreciated! I hope you are all enjoying the daily horror. I'm excited for even more to come!
As day shifted to night, I still remained in my kitchen, pealing away at the potatoes that sat before me. The sizzling skillets behind me flooded the room with a warm, crisp scent of bacon. My stomach was growling just standing here. I was so ready to feast, but I had to be patient. The best of things come to those who wait.
Pealing my final potato, I sat it in the bowl and grabbed the cutting board to empty the shavings into the trash. As I did I jumped back in horror as I gazed into the trash and saw a pair of eyes staring back at me. I jumped, throwing the board back and dumping the shavings all over the floor behind me. But I didn't care. I was concerned with the thing in my trash.
I pulled off the lid to get a better look, leaning back a bit just in case it leaped out at me or something. But as more light shone into the trash, I saw that it was a full on disembodied head of a man with a plain face, blue eyes, and blonde hair. His eyes were open and seemed to follow me. The rest of his face remained emotionless.
How did it get there? I wondered. And was it alive? Surely it couldn't be, right? I mean, how could someone survive without a head?
I leaned over, my finger outstretched to poke it. Its eyes followed my finger to its forehead before furrowing its brows in confusion. "What are you doing?" The head spoke, making me immediately jump back and scream out in terror.
"What are you going around and touching people's faces for?" it demanded. "How would you feel if I jumped out of this here trash and poked you in the face? You wouldn't like it much, now would ya?"
My mouth was agape. How dare it talk to me like that. "Excuse me, but how the hell did you get into my trash?" I asked.
"Well, now look at you, thinking everything belongs to you," it snapped back. "I'll have you know I've been sitting in this trash for a few days now. You've paid no mind until just now. I'd say its my trash actually."
At this point, the terror was fading into something more of frustration. Was I really about to let some random guy's head in the trash talk to me that way?
I grabbed it by its hair and lifted him up to better face me.
"Hey, put me down!" it demanded. "How dare you touch me like this! This is highly unethical!"
"You know, I'm quite hungry," I said in a cold, harsh voice. "I've been cooking all day and I realized I don't have any meat. I think you'll do just fine."
"Please no!" it pleaded. "Please, I'll do anything! Let me go! I'll go hide in someone else's trash bin!"
"Too late," I shot back at him with a twisted smile.
I quickly turned back to the skillet on the stove top. But as I turned, my feet started to slide out from under me. Those damn potato skins were still all over the floor! In my fall, I frantically reached for something to catch me and found something sharp. Falling directly toward my throat. And it cleanly sliced through...
Sleep escaped me as I slowly paced back and forth in the kitchen, stumbling with every few steps. I felt almost drunk with how disoriented I felt.
It had been weeks since the eerie feeling crept over me.
I would be attempting to sleep, much like most nights. I would listen to the crickets chirping outside, maybe the occasional car zooming by. It was almost soothing to hear the outside world as it made me feel less alone somehow. Like the world itself was at peace.
But that's when I heard it. Call me paranoid, but my house was relatively new. Never had I heard the floorboards creak or any subtle thuds of the house settling. Yet, that one night, I could swear I heard something in the room with me. I could swear it sounded like maybe the rustling of clothes, or a soft creaking sound. It was subtle enough that I felt I needed to hold my breath to hear it, as even a single exhale would mask it.
I would turn to face the sound, but could see nothing. I tried resting again, and still the sound came. Very slight, like the whispering wind was blowing softly against my window. But it didn't feel quite so distant.
You know how when you're walking past a room and you can tell a TV is on by the silent ringing? There's no volume omitting from the speakers. In fact, the screen is just a plain still image with no sound. Yet, just by being close enough to the room without peering inside, you can tell its on? This was like that. A strange and unexplained sixth sense. Even through the silence you could just feel that something was in the room with you. Something that wasn't supposed to be there. Something that remained unmoving, but something as simple as the way the wind blows past it gives it shape, giving it away to your senses.
This is what has been haunting me for the past few weeks. Something I could never prove and quite frankly never saw, never truly heard any proof that it was there. But I knew that it was. Somehow. Watching me. Or perhaps waiting for the perfect time to strike, to reveal itself to me so that I may never be able to rest easy again.
Perhaps it loved this twisted game of leaving me too paranoid to sleep. It knew that I knew it was there. And it knew that not revealing itself was far scarier to me than ripping the bandage off and plastering its presence on the walls.
But tonight I was going to catch it. Tonight, I would be turning on some cameras. I'd be using an audio recording to pick up any signs of it.
And as I wrote out my plans, I heard it. That familiar subtle noise behind me. It must know. And it's not very happy about it...
Traveling for work was always fun for me. Seeing the sights and meeting new people was always exciting and refreshing from the mundane boredom of staying at home all day. I was grateful for the opportunities that being a writer provided me.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sky this beautiful purple-blue hue, I had finally pulled into the parking lot of the hotel I'd be staying the night in. It wasn't exactly the fanciest place to stay, but it would get the job done.
I checked in and the gracious lady at the front desk handed me my room key. On the way to the room, I took a few glances around the lobby and my eyes landed on a corkboard with several missing person's posters. This peaked my curiosity, so I stepped closer. There were dozens of posters, all with black and white images of various people of different ages and genders. All disappearing in the last few years. All of them were last seen in this very city.
I approached the lady at the desk to ask her about it.
"Oh, those sorry souls?" she said. "From what I heard, quite a few of them were last seen exploring a place they weren't supposed to be. Why, one of them disappeared with a group of friends who wanted to do some ghost hunting in an abandoned house downtown. Another decided to take a swim in a pond that was on private property. All of them were doing some dumb kid stuff and paid the price for it."
I looked down, solemnly as to feel sorrow for them. She and I parted ways and I made my way to my room.
The room was just about as average as you'd expect. The bed lay parallel to the window with an AC unit against the far wall. In the narrow hallway leading to the bed sat the door to the bathroom.
I flicked on the lights and saw just how janky the room was. I mean, I feel like janky was the wrong word. There was nothing inherently wrong with the room. It was pretty average. Nothing exciting.
I pulled my laptop from my bag and sat down on my bed. I had some sort of twisted inspiration to write a story about missing kids exploring abandoned building, allowing my imagination to bend and twist as it chased down the rabbit hole of their fate. However, nothing felt too satisfying of a conclusion, so I just said that a ghost reached their hand out from the darkness and pulled them in.
But as the story concluded and my eyelids started feeling heavy, I put my laptop on the nightstand beside the bed and drifted off to sleep. Or at least I tried.
A sudden banging from the ceiling overhead startled me awake. The thuds were muffled, but it sounded like someone jumping up and down in one spot with maybe heavy boots on or something.
Oh boy, I thought. Of course I had to have noisy people upstairs from me.
I tried keeping myself awake until I was almost certain they wouldn't be making any more noise. Or at least that was the hope. Every time I felt myself start to drift off, be it after a minute or twenty, the thuds kicked up again, jolting me awake. But then, silence.
After about the sixth time of this occurring, I stomped out of bed and raced up the stairs to then pound on the door of the people in the room upstairs from me, ready to really lay into them.
The door swung open and immediately, I opened my mouth to start yelling. But no words escaped my lips. Just beyond the door was darkness. It wasn't a dimly-lit room like you'd expect, as there was nothing my eyes could make out. Instead, this looked like I was peering into the void.
I peaked my head inside and called out, hoping for a reply. But there was nothing but the dark echo of my voice. Why did the room feel so cold?
I felt something grip the front of my shirt, tugging me toward the door. Looking down, it was a disembodied hand gripping me in a balled fist. I tried to fight against it but it was too strong. With one final tug, I fell forward and stumbled into the abyss...
Excellent, you opened the story. My phone just pinged, notifying me of this action. I was beginning to get worried for a moment. But I guess now that you're here, I need to distract you for a few moments while I... well, you'll find out soon enough.
I'll try to be vague on the details as to not give too much away for my plan. Where was I. Oh yes, the story. My distraction.
So, there was this woman. Let's say her name is Sarah. Everyone in her house had gone to sleep and she was busy browsing the internet until she happened upon a story. One much like you're reading right now.
It was dark outside, which made it far easier to blend into the shadows than you would expect. Anyways, she was just in her room, peering down at her phone, reading a story that was said to be the scariest ever written. Of course, she didn't believe it. Or maybe she did but wanted to prove just how brave she was.
She then heard a sound behind her. A familiar sound. Her house was old, she thought. It makes those weird creaking sounds all the time. She returned her attention to the story before her. One that told of a man watching her from afar. But not just any man. A disfigured man. One that no longer appeared human. Perhaps they never were. Since the disfigurement, they were rejected by humanity and developed a strong hatred against them. A longing to look the way they did before, to lead a normal life. Perhaps that's why he watches over them.
Sorry, was I rambling? I get that way when things get a little personal.
But as she read on, the man knew in some mysterious way that she was reading that very story about him. He knew her location. And he was an expert of blending into the shadows. She didn't even hear him enter her room. The twisted part was, she was so focused on the story in front of her that she didn't notice the shadow out of the corner of her eye move.
Oh, the temptation to move closer. To see the fear in her eyes when she looks up and realizes something is wrong. It makes my skin crawl in the best ways.
You may think it would be easier to just sneak up behind her and try to scare her that way, or wait for her to turn around to see me, but that's all been done before. That was boring. Imagine the fear in her eyes. The fear in your eyes, when you realize I've been watching you this entire time and you never noticed.
Like I said, I won't get too specific where I am or what I'm seeing. Where's the fun in spoiling that? Go ahead, drop your device. Come find me. I dare you.
What scares you the most? What lingering thoughts fill you with existential dread in the dead of night? When’s the last time you read something that made you physically squirm in your seat?
Chances are, if you fear it, I’ve already written it.…
And if you claim to fear nothing, I’ll give you 365 reasons to fear everything…
The human body is the most unusual thing. Most understand how it works, but very few understand why. It's this reason that we don't ponder too much. After all, the only parts of ourselves we need to care about are only skin-deep...
Walking around the park was exhausting. I was a couple days into my new exercise routine to try and lose weight. I wasn't exactly the best looking guy around and the extra pounds I'd put on over the years didn't exactly help in my favor. I decided a few days ago that it was time for me to do something about it. Especially since I first met Sierra.
Sierra was this gorgeous blonde woman I'd seen walking her dog a few times. The other day I bumped into her on accident outside of my work. She said she loved horror movies and enjoyed the little thrills life had to offer. She was really someone who took life by the horns and rode it until there was little left. I loved that about her.
Then on the way to work I spotted her over by the park a few times and that's when it clicked with me. I've only got one life. I should do what makes me happy. I should try and go for some jogs around the park in hopes of seeing her again. And sure enough, I did. Every time we met up we learned more and more about each other. We shared some jokes and learned we loved the same kinds of music. I knew deep down she was the one.
Today, just after departing from another deep conversation, we agreed to meet up later that night for a date. My heart was fluttering with excitement. I couldn't believe how well things were working out between us. I waved goodbye to her.
I wasn't paying attention to where I was heading and I tripped. I landed face first in the grass. I grunted as I climbed to my feet. I dusted myself off and realized I felt a cold, slimy thing on my cheek. I quickly wiped it off and watched it plop to the ground. It was some kind of black goop, kind of the consistency of Jell-O.
I ignored it and went back to my apartment to take a shower. I felt gross, covered in sweat and dirt and whatever that weird slime was. I couldn't stop thinking about our date. As I showered I tried to figure out what I should even wear. Where were we even going? She had said she knew a place and to dress casually. I didn't know if that meant fast food or a bar, but I was excited nonetheless.
Finally, I climbed out of the shower feeling as fresh as ever. As I dried myself off, I started to feel a weird burning sensation on my cheek. What was that? Then the burning spread to the other side of my cheek, then all over my face. I could feel some of the muscle in my face twitching a bit and I started to panic. Was it the body wash I was using? Or did it have something to do with that weird black goo from earlier?
Either way, I quickly wiped the bathroom mirror and peered at my reflection in shock. My face was red. It also appeared a lot thinner than normal. I could see my cheekbones and a more defined chin. I actually looked great. A part of me wanted to be worried about this but another part of me loved what I was seeing in the mirror. I admired myself a bit longer before I stepped out of the bathroom and threw on some clothes.
As I did, I felt that burning sensation spread through my arms and legs and the rest of my body. It almost looked like I was deflating like a balloon until all that remained was muscle and bone. All the fat on my body was gone. Which was great because I'd always wanted to be skinny, but it also sucked, as now all of my clothes were going to be baggy. I decided to just wear a jacket and throw on a pair of jeans with a belt. It almost felt empowering with the belt being tighter than I'd ever seen it.
***
After we got to the restaurant I started to feel a it woozy, like I was close to passing out. But I didn't care. I pushed past it, both because I looked great and because I was on a date with the most amazing woman I'd ever met.
Of course, she took me to a sports bar. We sat away at our own table toward the far side of the bar so we'd be by ourselves for the most part. I loved the scenery, the jerseys posted on the walls, the TV screens with random games and commercials playing. It was a nice change of pace from what I was used to.
As we chatted, the food came by. I wasn't really that hungry, so I just ordered some fries. We split them and joked around a bit.
Suddenly, that same burning sensation returned. It started with my legs. They started to feel almost lighter. I started getting a little freaked out, but I tried to keep my cool as to not scare off my date. I tried moving my legs, crossing them or something just to return the feeling in them, but I found it difficult, like they weighed a ton.
Then the burning crawled upward to my arms, my hands, my chest area. All beginning to feel lighter and yet I found it more difficult to move. I looked down in horror as my hands looked like bones with skin over them. Then, I saw them start to melt away as the skin seemed to almost dissolve it.
I tried to scream out in horror but I found that I couldn't even open my mouth. It was like all the muscle, all the nerves in my jaw had been consumed. I looked up at Sierra, who was staring at me in terror. She was worried, asking me if I was okay, but I was having difficulty hearing her.
What the hell was happening to me?!
Internally I was screaming, in pain, horrified by what my body was doing to itself. It was like my skin was melting everything inside of it, devouring my muscles, my bones, everything. I looked around and saw everyone else in the bar freaking out as they stared at me in horror. The flesh had taken my legs. my arms. Soon, my head. Then my chest. Until all that was left of me was a single ball of flesh. And I could still feel everything...
Is there anything in your life that you regret? Maybe you said something hurtful to someone you haven’t seen in years. Maybe you embarrassed yourself out in public. Maybe there’s one decision you wish you could go back and change. Today, we find that Joseph McGee made a mistake. One that may cost him his life...
Here I was, walking home in the middle of the night, the rain pouring down around me. “Just my luck,” I muttered as I bundled up in my jacket.
It’s funny, luck has never really been on my side, I thought. In fact, if there’s anyone who draws in bad luck like a magnet, it’s me.
You see, growing up I wasn’t exactly the nicest kid. I don’t remember a whole lot. I just know I was a big trouble maker. I was sent to the principle’s office and suspended more times than I could count. And there was a kid or two I might have picked on in elementary school. But I was like ten, could you blame me?
Anyways, as time went on, there was this kid who I picked on a bit. I almost thought we were somewhat friends with how much we were around each other. Or maybe how much I was around him. There was one day where we were running laps outside in gym class. I tripped him and he fell head first into a puddle of water, fresh from the rain the night before. When he stood up, he had a damp patch on the front of his pants. We laughed and joked about it. I thought it was hilarious at the time. But thinking back now, it was a dumb thing to laugh about. I probably would have helped the kid had I been more mature.
Later on, near the end of the school year, one of the worst things that had ever happened to me occurred. Our house caught fire. And all our belongings burned along with it. We had to stay with our grandparents for a while until we could figure out where we were going to go. And the worst part of it all, apparently the fire started in my room. That didn’t make sense, because I was asleep at the time and my parents had to be the ones to wake me and get me out of the house. But when my parents heard that it started in my room, they blamed me for a while. They grounded me, no matter how unfair I said it was.
After that, life got more challenging. I was losing sleep for reasons I couldn’t explain. I was falling asleep during class and falling behind in my grades, barely passing as I went. Then, in high school I joined the football team. I was excited. I loved football. Unfortunately, I sucked at it. I guess I sucked so badly that for my entire high school career, we never won a single game. Then in my senior year, I fell the wrong way after being tackled and I broke my left leg. I was out for the rest of the year.
Speaking of my senior year, I never got to graduate with my class. I never got to walk or get my diploma on stage. I guess what had happened was I was missing half of an English credit, so I had to spend an entire semester repeating the same class. Thankfully, I was able to get my diploma in December that year.
After that, more misfortune beheld me. I could never hold a job for more than three months because I would get fired for one reason or another, whether or not it was even my fault. I got evicted from my old apartment last year because I had loud neighbors, blasting loud music and stomping like crazy. I guess the person who lived downstairs from them got confused and made noise complaints about them, but against me. I don’t know, she was a crazy old lady making those complaints.
And then we get to today. My car wouldn’t start at work, so now I’m stuck walking home in the pouring rain. It’s not so bad, I guess. Things could always be worse, right?
Almost as if on cue, a van quickly approached and stopped right next to me. I stopped in my tracks as the side door slid open and a couple guys jumped out and grabbed me. I tried to fight back, tried to scream for help, but they were too strong. They threw me into the van and drove off.
***
As I sat tied up in the back of the van, the two guys were behind me, holding on to each of my shoulders to make sure I didn’t move. There was a guy in a black jumpsuit standing before me. He approached and kneeled down. He lifted the ski mask that blocked a part of his face. Why did he look so familiar?
“Do you remember me?” he asked in a cold, almost growling voice. “Cause I certainly remember you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said, my heart racing. I tried squirming against my restraints but the men behind me held be back. “Who are you? Why did you do this to me? I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh, you don’t remember?” he asked. I noticed the knife in his hand, bringing it closer to my face as he gently grazed the blade over the side of my head. “Maybe the nickname ‘Pissy Pants Sammy’ might ring a bell.”
“Sam... Sammy?” my eyes went wide with realization. “Dude, it’s been years. But, what’s up with this, man? Why is this necessary?” I struggled a bit against my restraints as Sam backed away a bit.
“Oh, so you do remember me? Then you must remember all the pain and misery you put me through all those years ago. You must remember how relentless the bullying was. And not a single time were you sorry about any of it.”
“Is that what this is about?!” I shouted. “You kidnapped me over something dumb we did as kids? Look, if you want an apology, you’ve got it. I’m sorry, okay?”
He stomped forward in anger, waving the knife in my face. “You don’t understand, this was more than bullying. This goes beyond dumb kid stuff. Have you ever noticed your streak of bad luck over the years? That was my doing. Well, my parent’s doing.”
“You’ve got to be f*cking kidding me!” I shouted. I could feel my blood boiling. All those lost jobs, my childhood home that was engulfed in flames. My broken leg. It was all him?!
I struggled again against my restraints. I was nearly free. I wanted so badly to punch this guy. To get back at him for all the pain he put me through over the years. And for what, some dumb childhood jokes?! But as soon as I was able to move more than an inch, the guys behind me threw be back down.
“Oh, you’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” he taunted me as he leaned over me with his knife. “But yes, my parents put a curse on you. Every time I was bullied because of you, something terrible would happen to you. But, all of this came at a cost. I couldn’t rely on a single strand of hair from your backpack to keep the curse going. Eventually, it burns out and I have to find something else. A used water bottle, a tissue, a dirty sock. But, once again, the well has dried up. I need something more. I need blood.”
He grabbed my hand and lowered his blade to it. I tried to pull away, tried to fight my way out of it, but they were too strong. Being held down by two guys, a third guy using all his body weight to keep your arm outstretched. It was an impossible scenario to escape from. But again, Sam lowered the blade to my hand and the blade went in. But just then, the van hit a speed bump. The knife slipped. Instead of slicing through my hand, it sliced cleanly through my wrist in a fiery pain that shot through my entire body. Sam saw what had happened and backed away, terrified.
“No... No. Not like this.” he yelled out. His gaze turned from me to the guys behind me. “Throw him out.”
“What?” I said as I grasped my wrist tightly, trying to stop the bleeding. Just then, I felt the men behind me grab my shoulders an back tightly. They threw open the van door and tossed me out onto the grass nearby the road and continued zooming past. Leaving me for dead.
There’s very little we understand about this world. Why people do what they do is one of them. It’s hard to process what is going on in someone’s head unless they let you in to their little world. But when they inevitably do, make sure it’s something you’re prepared for...
I stood before the door to yet another apartment. What was it, the third one today I’d been to? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was I was ready to call it a night.
I grabbed my keys and flipped through the mass of jangling metal until I found the one I needed. They numbers on the key matched the door number, so these had to be it. I unlocked the door and turned the knob, letting myself inside. I wasn’t quite prepared to be greeted with the waft of fresh paint. This place wasn’t properly ventilated, was it? I went to open a window and dropped my toolbox on the floor.
First thing’s first, I need to check and make sure the wiring is working right. I went from room to room and flipped the light switches on. They all seemed to work just fine. No faulty wiring that I could see, no bulbs that need switched out. This was going to be easier than I expected.
Thankfully, I got here after they cleaned the apartment out, otherwise I’d be tripping over a bunch of useless junk to get where I need to go. Next, I checked to make sure all the faucets were working. I tried the kitchen, then the bathroom. The sinks and bathtub seemed to have good water pressure. That’s another check off my list. I’m just waiting for the one check that I do that doesn’t work as intended. Maybe some screws might be loose in the cabinets, or the HVAC unit might be faulty. I had to desperately hope not.
After doing a couple more meaningless checks on things around the apartment, I reached the point of checking the walls and floors for any damage. I started with the floors, since it would be faster.
Walking across a couple floorboards, I found a few of them to be squeaky but not really loose. I jotted that down. Then, it was on to the walls. the bland, plain white walls.
I ran my hand along the bedroom wall and stopped when I noticed something. My fingers ran across something loose. I turned to look, dreading it might be something I’d have to fix. My gaze fixed on the wall, where I spotted a piece of string. It was a lot thicker than string, maybe yarn? I tugged at it a bit and a large strand raised from the wall, pealing away some of the paint as it went. I tugged more and more, trying to track where it lead.
The yard seemed to trail on for quite a bit. As I pulled, I noticed it was starting to reach the floor. I tugged and pulled until eventually, I felt it stop. It felt like it was caught on something in the wall. Something tough. I didn’t want to tug too hard, as it might break the yarn. Instead, I dropped the string and ran for my toolbox. I fumbled around, trying to fin something sharp. My eyes landed on the putty knife. I grabbed it and ran back to the bedroom. I went to the wall and found what it was caught it. It was a piece of square felt that was stuck to the wall and painted over.
I dug a part of the blade of my putty knife under the felt until it started to come up. I soon realized what this was as I saw a hole in the wall emerging. This was to cover something up. My question now was, did the previous tenants do this, or was it the clean up crew that came in after? I shrugged and continued to tear the rest of the fabric off the wall. I mean, I can always patch it back up. It’s my job after all.
After peeling the last of the fabric off, I saw the cutout in the shape of an oval. Almost like a head shape. In the center of it I could see a bit of light. What was this?
I leaned in, pushing my head into the hole. The hole itself was a little tight. I had to maneuver my head a bit, but eventually I got it to fit. And when I finally got in there, I noticed my eye was almost perfectly aligned with whatever that light source was, which happened to be looking directly into the bedroom of another apartment.
“What the hell?” I muttered. The bedroom was pink and strewn with lights and posters. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. It was a woman. She was short with black hair, styled as if she had just crawled out of bed. She wore a form-fitting grey tank top and a pair of black basketball shorts. She was looking around her room until I saw her grab something from far away. This felt wrong. What was this hole even for? To spy on this woman? That thought made me nauseous.
I was about to back out and close the thing up, when she turned to face me. Her face twisted into a rageful one. She walked in my direction, muttering a few things. I tried to back out, but my head was caught. The hole was too tight. I tried to wiggle my head free but it did very little. Looking at the woman, she had something in her hand. Was that a screwdriver?!
I fought as hard as I could against the drywall to escape but I couldn’t. I couldn’t break free. Pain suddenly shot through my skull when I felt the screwdriver she was holding plunge directly through my eye.
***
“Yes, officer, I reported the neighbors multiple times to the landlords,” I said, looking back at my wall that had a screwdriver stuck in it. “I was told they moved out, but then I saw them spying on me again.”
“How were they spying on you exactly?” asked the man on the other line.
“I guess they drilled through the wall or something and made a peephole,” I replied. “I’d always hear someone talking or something shiny on the other side. I didn’t know if it was a camera on their eye, but I never really felt safe. But after I was told they were kicked out, I moved back in here.”
“And then it happened again?” the man on the other end interrupted.
“Yeah,” I said. “And I told myself, if someone ever tries doing that again, they’ll regret it.”
“Are they still there?” he asked. “We can send some of our guys out there and lock him up for a bit.”
“Oh yeah,” I replied mischievously as I toyed with the screwdriver in the wall. “They aren’t going anywhere...”
Modern day humanity is filled with indescribable struggles. From falling into traps that lured you in with temptations to a life long debt that can be easily grown yet nearly impossible to pay off. But what if there was another way to pay it off? A way that was easy on your pockets, but hard on your life...
They told me the procedure was going to be nearly painless. I wouldn’t feel a thing. Well, I wouldn’t feel anything other than the few needles they’d poke me with before putting me under. The room spun around me and faded to black.
It felt like only a few moments had passed, but when the world started to come back through my eyes, I felt a bit woozy, like I was recovering from a hangover. A doctor walked into the room, cradling a clipboard. She turned to me with a smile and said, “The surgery was a huge success.”
I didn’t say much. But I’m guessing my actions spoke louder than anything, because she hesitantly said, “Oh, you’re probably a bit dizzy, huh?”
I nodded.
“That’s normal,” she assured me, her gaze comforting. “This surgery take a lot out of you. But I can promise, you’ll be back to normal in no time.”
Soon after, the doctor excused herself. She had a few more patients to check on, I’d assumed.
I took the time I had left alone to think about what I had just done. Not just for myself but for my family. You see, I wasn’t exactly in the greatest position growing up. My parents struggled keeping up financially while raising my sister and I. I can tell you how many nights we survived off of one or two meals a day. I had to get a job when I was about fifteen and all the money I earned went to my family to help them pay for food and rent. It felt good. I almost felt heroic.
Then, my dad got sick. He was the main provider of the family, working countless hours at a job he hated at the factory. He’d come home and sleep all day and work all night. We rarely got to see him. But then he got sick. He was passing out a lot, which made it harder for him to work. We tried taking him to the hospital but he would refuse to go. He assured us he was fine. Then, he started coughing up blood.
Now, I understood his concern for us over his own health. We couldn’t really afford to take him to the hospital as it was. But being in debt was worth it to ensure that he would live. After we finally got him to go to the hospital, we were told the unfortunate news that he had lung cancer. We were in shock. Cancer was one of the hardest words to hear, especially when it hits so close to home.
And into debt we went. From 4 hour car rides round trip to expensive treatments to even the medication we had to get for him, the bills were piling on quickly. We were struggling. We had to fall even further into debt. Although I didn’t mind, as it was all to keep my dad alive and fighting for his life, this was leading me to be working multiple jobs to try and keep up. Without my dad making money, I was the only provider. My mom felt terrible about it all, but she was the strongest support system anyone could ever ask for. And my little sister was too young to start working, so she couldn’t help either. But that doesn’t stop her from trying. It’s almost cute when she tries asking for an application as a ten year old.
But that leads to how I found out about this procedure. On the way to work one day, I heard an ad over the radio talking about human experimentation. Supposedly, they had found a certain part in your brain, I forget exactly where they said it was, but it was somewhere in the dead center of your brain that had never really been studied yet. Upon doing a bit of research, people thought it might be connected to your soul or something. But getting it extracted was supposed to set you for life and clear all your financial debt.
Now, this is where it gets a little tricky. They weren’t exactly clear on how they were going to clear my debt. They never outright said they were going to pay me or anything. Which makes sense, I never exactly intended on becoming a millionaire or anything, though it would be nice. I assumed they would have me sign some things and explain it then.
***
And sure enough, when they had me check out of the hospital, they took me to a private room away from my family, and they sat me down. They handed me a credit card and said, “Use this to pay off your debts.”
I looked down at it, turning it over in my hands. The card was red with the metallic numbers and lettering popping out from the side like they were embossed. “How much money is on it?” I asked.
“As much as you need,” the doctor said. “This card is special, though. It’s kind of difficult to explain without getting into too graphic of detail. Think of it like a credit card. You will use it to pay off your debts and such, but the debt you pay will need to be repaid.”
“So, let me get this straight,” I said, slightly irritated. “You had me remove a part of my brain so you could hand me a credit card and say, ‘you have to pay your own debt back yourself’? Are you serious right now?”
“Look, sir, calm down,” she stood and motioned with her hands for me to sit back down. “Look, the part of your brain we removed is being carefully stored and monitored. It’s a part of your soul. And every time you use that card, it drains a part of your soul.”
I chuckled. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am, actually,” she assured me. “You aren’t the first person we’ve run this experiment on. There are many more. From junkies to cancer patients and everything in between. We aren’t here to judge the debt, we are just here to help you repay it. So, use the card carefully.”
***
Upon arriving back home, I struggled to explain to my mom and sister what the doctor had explained to me. My mom was scared. She didn’t want me to use it, which makes sense. She cares about my well-being, just like we care about our dad.
Shortly after sharing a meal together, I went off to my bedroom and onto my laptop. It was time for me to pay off my debts. I logged into my account at the hospital website and saw where it requested you to pay. I searched around for my card. And searched. And searched. Then, my blood ran cold. Where was my card?
I ran downstairs and asked my mom and my sister, but neither of them knew where it could have been. I mean, I never took it out of my pocket, right?
Then, I felt a sharp pain ringing through the back of my skull. I need to calm down. Surely all this stress wasn’t good for me, recovering from surgery and all.
Then, the sharp pain rang through again. And again a few minutes later. What was happening to me?
I grabbed my phone and called up the hospital. I told them about my head ringing. What they told me made my heart drop. That was the feeling of the card being used. Immediately, I knew what was happening. My card must have been stolen. I tried telling the lady on the phone, but I cried out in pain as I felt that same pain shooting through my skull. And this time, I blacked out...
They say you never know what you have until it’s gone. This quote has haunted me for the past few days. As a quote on my calendar, witnessing a squirrel meeting it’s demise in the middle of the road, a video I saw on TikTok, and then the next day learning my loud upstairs neighbors moved out. When all these things happen in short succession, it’s like the universe is trying to tell you something. And when the universe speaks, it’s very important to listen...
“But mom, I wanna go on the roller coaster!” I demanded, walking steadily behind my parents.
“Your mom said no, son,” my dad replied, looking back at me before his gaze shifted back to the carnival tents in front of him. “Besides, you aren’t old enough to get on them.”
“But I’m 15!” I said. “All my friends are going on it and I’m gonna look like a wuss if I’m the only one in school that hasn’t ridden it.”
“If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it?” my mom snarkilly replied. I always hated that question.
“Probably,” I muttered. That made my dad chuckle, but he stopped quickly when my mom glared it him. “Don’t encourage him.”
“Sorry,” my dad said.
We were walking down a row of tents and booths of varying colors. Some of them sold food or silly hats while others were carnival games that looked rigged already.
But as we walked, something caught my eye. Stuffed between two tents was a wooden display case. But as we got closer, I was that it was more than that. It was an old fortune teller machine.
I begged my parents to let me get a fortune and they obliged. They handed me some quarters and I slid them into the slots down below. As I did, the machine lit up and the wooden man in the booth lifted its head to stare at me, it’s red eyes burrowing into my soul.
“Behold, the Great Fondoolie will read your future!” The voice came from a voice box inside the machine. it sounded old and crackly, as if the voice box was close to dying out. But I didn’t care, I loved the novelty of it.
“But be warned, you may not like what’s in store...” the voice box finished before the puppet inside moved its arms back and forth like it was trying to cast a spell. It did this while old crackly music was playing.
Not long after, the machine whirred and a white card was spat from a slot near the coin slot. I grabbed it and read it aloud. “It whirrs and loops and flips and spins. Riding this will be your end.” I scoffed at this and looked up at my parents. We all knew what this meant. Even the fortune teller didn’t want me on that roller coaster.
***
The next day at school, I sat around my friends at lunch. On the tray was some gross meat patty with gravy on it. one of my friends swore they saw it move on its own. We laughed and joked and stole each others milk cartons. Then, the sore subject of the carnival arrived. Of course, they all talked about how cool it was and how they rode it several times. They said there was a guy behind them on the ride that threw up everywhere. It sounded insane. Then, they asked me if I’d been on it yet. Reluctantly, I lied and said that I had. But they could see in my eyes that I hadn’t.
“What a loser,” one of them said. They all laughed at me. They guy next to me tapped me on the shoulder. “You have to go tonight,” he said. “It’s the last night it’s gonna be there.”
“But I can’t,” I said. “Last night was the only night my parents were going to take me. Besides, they’re both working tonight.”
“Then just sneak out,” he said. “I do it all the time. I’ve never been caught. Well, except for that one time...”
“I can’t just sneak out!” I said. “My parents would kill me!”
“But if you don’t you might be the most unpopular guy in school.”
***
Those words still echoed through my mind as night fell. “If you don’t, you’ll be the most unpopular guy in school.”
What if my friends leave me? What if nobody ever wants to talk to me again? What if I have to eat lunch alone every day? I knew I was probably being over dramatic, but still, I needed to ride that roller coaster. No matter what.
So, I waited until it was quiet downstairs. I waited until both of my parents cars left the driveway. Then, I slowly opened my bedroom window and climbed out. I landed on the grass below with a soft plop. I dusted some of the dirt and grass off of me before walking into town, being careful not to be seen by the cars passing by, in case one of them happened to be my parents.
Eventually, I arrived at the carnival. There were less tents than yesterday. But the roller coaster, the behemoth machine was towering over me. I stood in line as my heart pounded in my chest. Within me was a mix of excitement of finally riding this thing, as well as fear. I had never been more afraid of how my parents might react other than right now. What if my parents came home early? What if they forgot something? What if somehow some way they found out I snuck out? I wouldn’t just be grounded, I’d be dead.
Finally, I was at the front of the line. I handed the man at the gate my ticket and he glanced at me for a second, then back to the ticket, then shrugged. He let me through and another worker found me an empty seat. I sat down and he strapped me in. And before long, the seats all filled up. My heart was pounding against my chest. I was terrified. This was the first roller coaster I’d ever been on.
The cart jerked forward before stopping and then moving forward slowly. Was it supposed to do that? None of the workers seemed concerned, so I figured it must be normal.
The cart reached a steep incline and slowly trailed upward. As it did I could hear some people chattering behind me. Were they just as nervous as I was?
After we crested the hill, the cart took off, shooting downward and almost immediately through a loop. Then another. As the cart rocked, I started to realize something horrifying. My seat belt wasn’t strapped in all the way. The metal bar that should have been pressed down over me was beginning to falter and wanting to open upward. I grabbed onto it for dear life while we were going through another loop. I felt myself actually raise from my seat for a few moments. But I dropped back down when we started to straighten out.
That was, until I saw what was coming up. A section where the cart flips upside down and stays that way for a while. My heart was racing while I clung to the metal bars with all my strength. I braced for the eventual flip and hugged the bars as tightly as I could. I could feel the sweat in my arms and hands building up, making the bars almost slick. I could feel myself sliding. Sliding. Until I fell...
Any good sales person will tell you that persistence is key. If something doesn’t work, keep trying. You just haven’t found the right people yet. Keep trying and eventually you will make your sale. Eventually, things will work out. Just keep trying. Don’t give up. Keep trying. Over and over again. Relentlessly...
I breathed a sigh of relief as I slumped down on my couch. The cushions enveloped me like a snug hug after my restless day of work. I rested my head against the top of the cushion and felt my body finally relax and the tension melt away. I stared up at the ceiling for a few moments before shutting my eyes and feeling relieved. After a few moments, I shifted my position slightly and sat up, grabbing my TV remote and turning it on. The television roared to life, some voices being heard as the picture started to come in. Was this some kind of a cop show?
I changed the channel, hoping to see something that wasn’t quite so loud. Something I could have playing in the background while I tried to rest a bit.
But as I was mid-channel surfing, I heard a knock at my door. I sighed and lifted myself off the couch with a grunt. As I made my way to the door, the knocking came again.
“I’m coming, hold on,” I said. I grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open. Standing there on the porch was a man in a blue business suit. The red tie around his neck made him look more pale than he actually was. His brown, wavy hair was twitching slightly against the breeze. He was holding a dark brown satchel that seemed to be stuffed to the point it barely closed.
He looked at me, a twisted smile on his face. He held out a hand with a flyer between his fingers. I rolled my eyes. This was some kind of a sales guy, I thought. Before the guy could utter a word, I told him I wasn’t interested and shut the door...
I began to walk away and back to my couch when the knocking came back again. Three knocks. Then it would stop. Then three more knocks. Then a pause. This loop continued as I plopped back down on the couch and tried to ignore it. Eventually he has to stop, right?
But still, the knocking persisted. I grabbed the remote and turned the tv up in hopes of drowning him out. It worked for the most part, but this ruined any chances I had of trying to get any rest.
Nearly ten minutes went by and I turned my TV down slightly to see if the knocking was still going on, and sure enough, it was. At this point my blood was boiling. I stood back up and peered outside from the living room window. Sure enough, he hadn’t moved an inch.
“I told you I’m not interested!” I shouted. “Go away before I call the police!”
There wasn’t a single pause as the maddening three knock loop continued. I was starting to lose my mind. How long was this guy going to keep doing this?
In a fit of fury, I grabbed my phone and dialed the police. I told them about the sales man outside who refused to leave. Thankfully, they said they would send some people out here.
“The police are on their way!” I shouted at the man outside. He seemed unbothered as the knocking persisted. This is where I noticed something almost unsettling. The knocking never changed. There was never any variation from when it started. You’d think after knocking for that long, the pace of the knocking would have changed, or how hard and soft they were knocking, or even the spot on the door they knocked at would have changed, but it never did. It was the exact same three knocks, then a pause, then three more knocks, and a pause. the same loop without any variation.
Before too long, I saw red and blue lights from outside my window blinds. Finally, the cops had come to take the guy away, I thought. I heard some muffled voices outside and peered through the window. There were two cops out there, a short, chubby one and a taller one with a more muscular build. They stood behind the knocking man but the man seemed to pay no mind.
I stepped away from the window for a moment to turn down my TV. Maybe I could hear them talking a little better. I returned to the window and was shocked at what I saw. The cops were nowhere to be seen. The cars were still there, the lights flashing, but the cars were empty. The only person I could see outside was the knocking man. I tried checking all of my windows, but saw no sign of them.
This was reaching the point where I was now incredibly creeped out. Did the cops run away from the guy? Did he do something to them? There were so many questions floating through my head. And the most chilling one of them all, what would he do to me if I opened the door? I didn’t want to wait around to find out. I made my way to the back door, hoping I could sneak out and get away from this guy. But as I reached for the doorknob, I heard that same familiar knocking. Only this time it was on the back door. My heart leaped into my chest as I backed away. As I did I realized something. That same knocking wasn’t just coming from the back door. It was coming from both the front and back doors at the same time.
This was it, I thought. Trapped inside my own home by a twisted sales man who was determined to drive me insane.
I tried going to one of the windows, maybe I could escape through there. But as I approached, I saw that same familiar silhouette. I walked to another window. The man moved to once again block my exit. All the while the knocking from both doors persisted.
I finally let out a cry of desperation, “Please! Leave me alone!”
Realizing I had no way out, I walked to the front door and threw it open. “What do you want?!” I screamed.
All at once, the relentless knocking sound ended. What I was greeted with at the door was not human. I’m not sure, even now, how to describe it. It was tall and thin. Very thin. Inhumanly thin. It’s face, I think it was it’s face, was twisted in a horrifying grin. And those eyes. Every time I close my eyes I can still see them, burrowing into my soul. It opened it’s hand and the paper it was holding floated gently to the ground. When I looked back up at the monster, I saw it climbing up to the roof of my house.
I ran outside to see where it was on my roof, but by the time I got out there, the monster was gone.
Even thinking back at this story, my heart is still pounding against my chest. And every time I hear a knock, I fear for my life. Fearing that the monster had returned. As for the paper it dropped? That’s the weirdest thing. The paper was blank. Just a plain sheet of white printer paper...
This post is going to be a little more personal, so if you wanna skip to the update for the stories, skip to the 4th paragraph.
So, I've always considered myself a creative person with somewhat of an overactive imagination and I've created so many ideas for things that I fell in love with. There are probably more projects that I've started but never finished than I can count. From YouTube videos to Audio Drama podcasts to books and short story collections. And, unfortunately, 365 Horror Shorts was one of those projects that I never fully finished.
I started 365 Horror Shorts back in November of 2020 after several challenges I gave myself for doing so and so every day for a week or every day for a month. Alongside this, I was watching Unus Annus, where they were putting up a new video every day for a year, doing something new and different each day and I sat through most of that live stream just before they deleted their channel. It inspired me to try and do something every day for a year. And the one thing I felt I could pull off was writing horror stories.
At the time, I hadn't written anything in several years. The ideas for the stories were never hard to come across. Most of them were inspired by dreams, or real events, or me just writing nonsense that somehow formed into something terrifying. Most of them came from asking people to give me 3 random words and I'd use those to form a story. And looking back, I am genuinely surprised that I was able to write that many stories consecutively, every day for over 200 days! Some ideas were terrible, one of them I wrote while I was drunk (I'll never tell which one) and several of them I wrote with fractured wrists. Some were great, some were terrible, some of them I want to expand to a full length book, and a lot of them I don't even remember writing. But the experience was well worth it!
So, now comes the update. If I combine every story I've written for any 365 Horror Shorts projects (Somehow I've done 3 of them??) It gives me a total of 292 short horror stories. I am going to discontinue the '365 More Horror Shorts' project, but I will finish or writing the remaining 73 short horror stories, and then some, if I feel like writing more.
Are the stories going to be released every day until they are all written? No.
I have several other things that I'm involved in that I wouldn't have the time each day. I don't want the last of the stories to be rushed, I wanna take my time and make them good and memorable and scary!
I can't make any promises when the next stories will be released, but they will all be posted on here! Thank you guys for sticking with me and enjoying my stories, the good and the bad. And stay awesome :)
My therapist tells me that I need to write, even when I don't feel up to it. So, here it goes. Hi, I'm Tara. My friends call me Tari for whatever reason. I forget why, I don't know. It's easier for them to pronounce or something?
But I think the reason I feel like I need to be writing, or at least what my therapist tells me, is because of what happened to me. She says what I experienced was some kind of trauma but in reality, I just wanna go home and sleep. It's late and I just wanna curl up on my couch and watch some TV. That's not so much to ask for, right?
Well, if I have to tell my story, I might as well start at the beginning. It was cold that night. Not cold enough to see your breath but just cold enough where you regret not wearing a jacket. But my friends and I were on our way to McDonner's, some fast food place across town. We were hungry and just wanted to split and 20 pack of chicken nuggets. Okay, and maybe some large Coke's. We were hungry, what do you expect?
Anyways, I guess it's important to mention that I live out in the middle of nowhere. I mean, I normally have to drive at least 3 miles to get into town. But I can't complain, I like it out here. It's quiet and peaceful out here. No noisy neighbors to keep you up at night. Instead, we just hear crickets chirping in the grassy fields behind our house. It's really nice.
But as I was saying, we live out in the middle of nowhere, so we have this long dirt road that we live down and no street lights to illuminate the darkness. So, If your car broke down and you needed to get to the house, you'd better hope you brought a flashlight. You never wanna see the kinds of things that hide in the dark our here.
We were driving down the dirt road, the headlights providing a narrow beam of light in front of us, leaving the rest of the world in solid blackness. As we drove, we saw something, maybe someone, in the distance. It was hard to tell, for we couldn't exactly make out a silhouette. Even thinking back on it, I'm not sure what it was. But something was there.
As we drove closer, something felt off. Maybe it was the air, maybe the silence that hung in the air a little too long. But as we got closer, the thing disappeared into the darkness, camouflaging itself perfectly. As we drove past the spot where we spotted the thing, we slowed down a bit, hoping to catch a glimpse into the darkness. Suddenly, there was this boom from the roof of the car. Something was on top of it. Everyone in the car screamed and the person driving slammed on the brakes. We heard more thuds overhead and we screamed and urged them to drive quickly!
We sped off and we heard a clattering as if the thing that was on our roof had tumbled off. As we sped away, we looked back and saw that same figure from earlier. Only now it was chasing us. Thankfully, our car was much faster than that thing. Could you imagine what would have happened if it caught us? But I think what terrifies me the most is that this thing, whatever it was, we last saw it close to my house. And we haven't seen it since. What scares me even more is the new sounds I hear outside at night. I pray that its not getting closer…
The air was cool against me skin as the cool breeze swept over me. Gracefully, I leaped into the air, my feet leaving the ground. For a moment, I felt untouchable. I felt like I was leaving the world behind to some place more peaceful.
But before too long, my joy left me as gravity pulled me back into its twisted grasp. I was a prisoner to its will. Until the ground I landed on sunk down lower and lower. I landed hard on my feet, but the springy ground I landed on stretched beneath my feet, inviting me back slowly to the earth. Until my legs denied its request and I leapt into the air once more. I could feel that same cool breeze against my skin as I ascended. It felt so good to be free like this. The tug and pull between the soul and the body that anchored it.
A few more times, I jumped and fell back to my feet and jumped back up. The feeling was something I could only describe as heavenly. Peaceful. Tranquil, even. But over all, it was fun.
It was something that lifted my mind from the troubles of the world. I was forgetting what had even bothered me that day. What had gotten me so worked up earlier. None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was the joy I felt. How free I was. If only for a few moments.
But my joy was short lived, for not long after my many ascents into the air, someone obnoxious joined me in my leaps into freedom. If I was a gentle soul, this other person was a gremlin. A demon of sorts. As I was kind and loving the feeling of leaving the ground, this other soul was a rough, brutal one. Having fun only by ruining it for others. Suffering brought it tranquility. A rather odd combination of emotions, but one none the less.
It didn't take long before this cruel being was falling and climbing back to its feet with a smile on its face, laughing off the pain. Then, it saw me. It bounced over to me. It grabbed my leg as I bounced along. It pushed me. Pushed hard against my leg. As I moved forward, it moved the top part of my leg backward, pushing hard against me. Harder and harder until I broke. I snapped. I felt pain shoot through my leg. And it let go.
I cried out in pain as I sat down. Others rushed around me and stared down in horror at what my leg was doing. It wasn't broken. My bones were fine. It was my leg. My knee. It was bent backwards.
