Horror Stories for the Faint of Heart

30-something horror writer. phlebotomist by day, theatre king by night. http://linktr.ee/ebrettrager89

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My Spidey Senses are Tingling

Ever since I injured my eyes, I’ve been stuck with them closed. They aren’t actually stuck - but I have to force them to stay closed. Sleeping masks help. To keep my mind active since I can’t look at anything, I’ve been immersing myself in horror podcasts. To enhance the experience, you are suggested to listen with headphones on, as it’s recorded in three hundred sixty degree audio. A true surround sound encounter. So, it was really unfortunate that I couldn’t discern the sounds of the podcast from the real life junkie breaking into my apartment. I exited my body quite some time ago. I’ve been watching him have his way with my dead corpse since then. It’s far more terrifying than any podcast has ever been.

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Touch and Go

I hate human contact. But by sheer human instinct, I need it. So to appease myself, everyday when I go to work, I shove the young cocky kid Benjamin into the stack of wooden pallets ready to ship out for the day.

So I wasn’t necessarily surprised when the cops showed up to my house when they found him dead in the back of the warehouse last week. They showed me photos from the autopsy report. Perfectly lined up down the side of his body were lines of bruises that matched perfectly with the lines of the pallets I pushed him into everyday. They were convinced I had it in for him.

Now what did surprise me? When Benjamin showed up on my back porch this morning, nail gun in hand, saying it was my fault and it was my turn to get pushed around a little bit.

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I've Got Red in My Ledger

I live on the second floor of my apartment. The only way in or out is by one set of very menacing wrought iron steps. The steps lead to a small outdoor landing, which leads to an enclosed porch, housing the only entrance to my apartment.

I got home late from work, and just as I was about to put the key into my doorknob, I heard a noise inside that was not my beloved cat.

It was two men talking.

One of them asked, “Did you hear something?”

As quickly but silently as I could, I pressed my body up against the door. I have a peephole, you see, so I didn’t want them to see me. The closer to the door, the less likely they were to see me. My plan must have worked, because I heard them walking away.

I knew I needed to leave, but as I turned to exit back outside, I saw two massive ravenous raccoons.

So here I am, stuck between my door and my deck. Do I risk being attacked by the rabies ridden raccoons? Or do I wait for the thieves to finish their business and handle me how they will? Only time will tell.

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Trust Fall

All my life I’d worked a first shift, but after my child was born I took a leave of absence. This year they finally started kindergarten, and I decided it was time to go back to work. Since I needed to be available to get them to and from school, I decided to take a second shift and see how it went.

Turns out I liked it. I took up a job mixing sauces in a big private factory. I worked up on the catwalks, dumping in ingredients, mixing, keeping it hot.

I was just about to hit ninety days. No more temp status - full time baby. We were getting close to close and pretty much everyone had gone home. I was doing a final check across the catwalk to make sure everything was shut down properly for the night.

Behind me I heard footsteps, and turned around to see my co-worker, Keith, standing a few feet away with one of our massive paddle mixers in hand.

“Do we have a late night batch to finish?” I asked. “I thought we finished up.”

“Oh we are finishing things up, alright,” he replied. “No one’s getting into this company before me. Looks like your ninety days are up.”

He slammed the paddle into my chest and I went flying into the massive vat beside me. He slammed down the lid, and I heard the gas roar to life.

All I have left are my screams echoing of the iron cage I’m stuck in.

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Sticks and stones may break my bones, but...

The incessant honking of the horns.

Their glaring red noses, bouncing light from the spotlights.

The biggest grins, painted on thick.

By the hundreds.

I was frozen in place, bound by hand and wrist to the pole behind me, as more of the ever cheerful rainbow haired, white faced freaks danced around me. Their massive feet clamped and clopped around me. Their never ending laughter echoed off the walls around me.

Their laughter turned to quite chuckles and eventually came to a silence. They stopped jumping... stomping... moving...

They just stared at me with their big, bright, black eyes.

Softly at first, and growing louder over time they began to chant.

“Someone’s looking tasty. I think we found our dinner.”

Their teeth grew into massive sharp daggers, and before I could smash my eyelids closed, I saw them closing in on me.

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Talking is overrated.

I knew, inevitably, that one of the seven deadly sins would get me. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think it’d be gluttony. But here I am, chained to this conveyor belt. It stops under each faucet, and it pours those spicy delicious ingredients down my once eager gullet without fail. It flows so fast that I can’t swallow fast enough - I choke down as much as I can. The meat, cheese, sour cream, tomatoes, even more cheese, oh and don’t forget the refried beans. GOD the refried beans! Working at a taco factory started as a blessing. But then Karen caught me sneaking food, and the rest is history. Fuck... I can hear the oven firing up behind me. I smell the tortillas getting hot. Soon enough this assembly line is going to float me straight into the raging flames, and needless to say I’ll be hotter than the sauce people want for these frozen fucking burritos. Karen es el diablo, amigo.

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All Tressed Up and No Where to Go

As I laid back in the wide open field, grass browning from the remnants of summer heat, I imagined myself falling backwards like they do in the movies. Slow motion, perfectly captured. Arms wide, the sound of the air filling my lungs, and it catching in my throat as my back hits the ground. My hair bouncing around my shoulders; my eyes closing. My eyes snapped open as I took in a breath. The sky was black now; not even any light from the moon. She came into my vision above me, yielding an already bloodied knife. She smiled, and whispered, “You have to let go.” The last thing I heard was her cackling as the blade plunged into my chest, and the darkness swallowed me.