Terrifying Tales Short Story Contest

Read the winning and notable entries from the talented writers who brought us the best tales of the year.

These stories are written by talented writers ages 9 to adult for audiences of their peers. Stories cover a range of scary and unnerving topics you will find in the horror genre. Some stories may not be suitable for younger audiences. Reader discretion is advised.

Tweens Ages 9 to 12

Tween Winner

Creator name: Kevin J.

Story Title: The Shadow Monster

Once upon a time, in the mountains of Beijing, there lived an ancient monster that lurked. Every 100 years it would decimate a species, but not just any species, only Culeler species. The monster obliterated the Tig-ish, York-know, and even the famous Ii-ii-tal creatures. Then came the day of the Squishy Things. Squishy Things didn’t have armor like the Ui-oi-yee, or venom like the Ven-omi, or even sharp teeth like the Shra-pet-eeth. The only feature Squishy Wild Things had were squishy brains. Unfortunately Squishies were a Culeler species so the monster would have to end their existence. The monster determined that he would erase them all in 100,000 years like any normal Culeler species.

However, when the monster knocked on the Squishy beings’ front door, the monster was the one who was under attack. Little pebbles that hit as hard as mountains, and stone shards cut his eyeball out. To the West, the Yellow River taunted him. In it sat wood piles magically held together, launching mini volcanoes that set fire to the land and surrounded him. The monster, standing on burning embers, now scorched, barely managed to escape. While fleeing, the monster said to the Squishies, “I WILL RETURN!!”

The Squishy things rejoiced at the colossal victory, the Squishy’s captain, 勇強執 which mean brave, strong, and persistent, declared the most legendary quote of the age, “ We are one, we… are, Humans!” The crowd cheered into the night, they ate a ginormous feast of roast duck with a glossy fat varnish, dumplings with the smell of pure umami, porridge with dry aged meat simmering in pots, and even bowls full of savory noodles. The monster, hungry, hurt, and humiliated, found another Clueler to feast on. Still hangry he traveled to a fairly mid-sized island he called Bit-land, the Humans of Bit-land were easy to squash and eat. Especially in a place he called long-land. After he had his fill he went to the old witch's hut and said: “I have beaten many Culeler species like the Ui-oi-yee, Ven-omi, Shra-pet-eeth, Tig-ish, York-know, and even the famous Ii-ii-tal, but the “humans” in Zhou-gong made magical hands that can launch rocks and boulders. I WANT TO BE THE MOST POWERFUL THING IN THE WORLD!!! When you gave me my powers you promised that I would be THE MOST POWERFUL creature in the world-” “Could’ve been, you were the most powerful creature in the world but looks like you’re not any more-” “I SAID I WANT TO BE THE MOST POWERFUL CREATURE IN THE WORLD!!!! I don’t want a single fly, a single animal, A SINGLE GOD!! To be more powerful than I!!”

Spit splattered across the witches face, Then she said: “One, I’m now wet and gross and I think I smell your stinky, slobbery, snot. Two, if you wish, so be it. I will make you the most powerful creature in the world. To make you the most powerful being, I need the eye of the thing you hate most, the liver of the Lat-rom-mi, the brain of the Ji-ki=oi-oi, the teeth of the Cou=ou, your blood, and finally, your soul!

One by one, the monster collected each item. He caught a single “Human” that wandered too far from the magic hands, a Lat-rom-mi that fell from a tree, a Ji-ki=oi-oi that thought it was safe to wander around at night, and a Cou=ou with a little bit too much fighting power. The tired monster lumbered back to the witch, fighting the urge to gobble up all the animals. He gently gave the items to the witch, who brought a knife out from her pocket and stabbed the monster. Using the monster's blood she drew

a giant pentagram and placed each item at each of the corners and asked the monster to sit in the middle. The monster impatiently rushed to the middle of the pentagram and sat down as he was told.

The witch chanted:

“לאלוהי המוות וההרס, האם הוא יהיה חזק יותר,ויבוא” “אחריו,ואז כל דבר שבא לפניו,הצל עצמו,האם הוא יהפוך לעצם“

The earth broke itself in half and swallowed the monster whole. Then slammed shut; for a while everything was normal. The monster appeared to vanish. Slowly, an arm pulled out from the shadows, finally the entire monster lunged at the witch, dragging her into the earth satisfied.

If you ever see a monster lurking in the shadows, beware and know it’s the monster, waiting, hunting you down.

Tween Honorable Mention

Creator name: Samel M.

Story Title: The Toaster of Doom

JIM EASTON

Jim Easton awoke groggily, eyes half closed, at 7:03 A.M. on the dot. He was an accomplished man of thirty-nine years, who lived in a little house in a big city. He lived with his two kids, named Arabella, who was seven years old and David, who was five. He also had a beautiful wife, Sheila, who was presently still sleeping and snoring in their shared bed. Easton worked for Microsoft from nine to five. He took the morning train to his office every day, so he had to catch it punctually. He lived in Hufen Ia, a large city famous for its ice cream, and with all the tourists cluttering up the afternoon and late morning buses, time was of the essence. This was why he usually decided upon eating a breakfast of hot buttered toast…

He got up and put on his gray suit and a tie which was a disturbing hue of red, shivering from the windy night. He walked briskly to the kitchen, stooping down and retrieving two things from a cabinet about two and a half feet off the ground: an AeroPress coffee machine, stained from all the old coffee grounds that had it had accumulated over the past few years, and an old rusty pop-up toaster. It had been his grandmother’s when he was young. Jim had lost his parents in a car crash when he was only three years of age, so he never really knew them. He had always lived with his grandmother, and this was his only thing of hers. Even though it was old, it worked and that was the important thing. He fixed his coffee and retrieved two slices of bread from the refrigerator absentmindedly and, after putting the bread in the toaster, had just sat down to read the Daily Scoop, the town’s newspaper, when he heard an incessant “DINGDINGDINGDINGDING” coming from his counter. Still half asleep, he glanced at the toaster, but he didn’t see his toast in it. Hmm, that’s strange, he thought. I thought pop-up toasters were supposed to have the toast pop up when it dinged! Also, why did it ding so many times? He mulled over the mystery while he walked over to investigate the strange affair. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

On his counter, the toaster was empty. The ashes of the bread arranged themselves into a sentence around it: “GO ‘WAY.” Jim stared a minute, shocked, then yelled at his toaster in disgust and horror. “Whatever did you do THAT for?!” he shouted, a bit paranoid from lack of sleep. “You are not working properly!” Suddenly a smoky form rose from the rusty old toaster, which rattled with contempt. “I DON’T CARE,” it bellowed from somewhere in its mechanics. “GO ‘WAY!”

Jim couldn’t miss the morning train, so he poured his coffee into a portable mug, grabbed his paper and dashed out of the house.

The train rattled as Jim read his coffee. Just like the toaster, he thought. A chill ran down his spine as he remembered the stories his grandmother told him as he lay down to bed each night when he was a child… They were always about demons and evil spirits causing all sorts of mischief. On days with storms, she would sometimes gaze out the window and say, “On a windy night such as this, all manner of bizarre creatures could blow in…” Jim gulped. He suddenly realized that if all the stories he heard as a child were true, then their toaster was possessed by an evil spirit, blown in during a windy night when he had been hot while cooking. He must have forgotten to close it. This, he realized, was all his fault!! He wanted to go back to his family to warn them… but he couldn’t. He couldn’t miss his stop. He sat up straight, mind lurching with horror, as he realized that he had conversed with Sheila on the breakfast for that morning, and this morning, bagels were on the menu…!!

SHEILA EASTON

Sheila Easton woke up with a start, slamming her alarm’s snooze button, which started playing a talk show she enjoyed. How long had she slept in? My Jimmy must be on the way to his office already, she thought groggily. She came out of the room to wake the kids; David was still sleeping after a long Wednesday night and Arabella was reading a Magic Tree House book when Sheila went in. “Hey, honey!” she said to Arabella. “Want some bagels?” “Yes,” Arabella replied, looking excited. “What type of bagel?” Sheila queried. “Parmesan, please! …with butter!” Arabella was a butter fanatic and would eat it with anything. “I’ll start making the bagels. Wake your brother and ask him the same question,” she called to her, hurrying down the steps to the kitchen. Sheila opened the freezer, backing away slightly as a blast of cold air hit her face. She retrieved a few bagels from the freezer and closed it a little too fast, ran over to the toaster, and put two bagels in to warm them up. As she walked away, she realized that she was still shivering. She glanced over her shoulder. Huh, she thought, who left the window open last night?

She was just about to close it when the bagels came hurtling towards her. She yelped, then stared at the toaster. Her phone rang. Her hand instinctively flew to answer it. It was Jim. “Uh, honey…” he said, his voice inconsistent because of the train, “about the toaster…”

Then the toaster made a sound like some thirsty monkey was slurping water from a river, and it began to swell.

First to the size of a pumpkin…

Then to the size of the chandelier… Then to the size of Sheila herself… Then to the size of the dining table! Shiela shook in horror and awe as she lurched backward, stepping on the bagels that had been thrown at her. But the toaster was turned toward her, and it began to suck her into the slot. She grabbed onto the rail of the stairs, but she soon fell into the slot.

She screamed, breathless in terror and sadness, and the last thing she ever thought was her mind reaching out to our husband…

JIM!

And then everything was silence.

ARABELLA EASTON

Arabella woke up, yawning, and then gripped her Magic Tree House book. Had she really fallen asleep in the middle of it? What would happen to Jack and Annie now? The boat was about to capsize!! Anticipating the ending, she began to read. At around eight, her mother came to ask her about breakfast. A few minutes later, while Jack and Annie were returning home, strange noises emitted from downstairs. Then she heard her mother scream. “Mommy?” Arabella whimpered, backing down into the kitchen. “Mommy?” she said again, looking around. She heard a sucking noise, and that was the end of her.

DAVID EASTON

David awoke early. There was a soccer match today, and he didn’t want to miss it. So he sat straight up… and then went right back to sleep. Arabella had left the room when he woke up once more. “Arabella?” he called, searching. First searching in their parents’ room, then in their closet, then… in the kitchen. David cried out, and then he was no more.

JIM EASTON

Jim Easton rode home from work, sweating. He had enormous misgivings about the toaster, and at his stop, he ran all the way to his small abode. The grass wet his feet as he raced towards the door. He heard an odd sucking noise as he turned the key. As I feared, he thought grimly, bracing himself. He opened the door to a shocking sight. The toaster had swelled to an enormous size. There was a large amount of ash on the ground. Jim put two and two together. No… he thought as tears streamed soundlessly down his face. I can’t believe it!! Then the toaster turned to him. Jim’s eyes widened, and he screamed as he was, like his wife and children before him, burned to ash.

CARPICORNIOUS THE THIRD

This toaster is so uncomfortable—uncouth for a high-class demon like me. I certainly showed those humans my true power! Well, now they can’t spread the word about my awesomeness. Such a shame, really. But casualties have to be put out of the way if I’m ever going to achieve high social status. Making the best of every position is a good sign of a high ranking demon, and I sure did that, didn’t I? I warned that family several times, and then I burned them all to ashes! Yet… I must be off. My twelve hours in this old toaster has expired, and I am itching to escape from this strange old house. But that look in the man’s eyes... he knew… How on Earth did he know? Humans aren’t supposed to know about us demons…

Tween Honorable Mention

Creator name: Ethan M.

Story Title: The Beast of the Bog

The moon shone over the small town of Blackwater. The white light seemed to illuminate the eerie roads. Let me introduce myself. I’m Robert. Robertson Davids, to be exact. I’m about 12 years old. I live at 10 Bog Street. They call it that because just behind the neighborhood, is Blackwater Bog. The water is so filthy and polluted it looks like tar and oil, and full of rotting trees and old rusty cars. I live with my gramps, but everybody calls him Tom Prick so I guess you can too. My parents died from- well, I’m not exactly sure what. Some kind of freak accident. I don’t really talk about it much. I just go to Blackwater Middle, come home, and clean. That’s it. My life. I do like to write stories though, also what you’re reading right now. My gramps works at the car parts factory on the hill. Everybody in Blackwater works there. It’s on a large cliff overlooking the Bog. Sometimes I can see the black smoke erupting from the factory. Gramps always comes home with a cough. Then he pulls out the groceries. It’s always the same every week. It goes like this. -1 loaf of bread -1 can of dry meat -1 pack of cheese -12 bottles of water. That’s it. Unless you include the pack of cigars. When he gets home, he’s too tired to speak, so he just goes upstairs after dinner. There are no rules at my gramps place. Like, none. Except one. And my gramps told me this from the very first day I got sent here by some far-fetched relatives. NEVER. OPEN. THE. DOOR. AT. NIGHT. Every time he would say this, his tired expression would narrow, and he looked super scary. I never figured out why that was the case though. Gramps knew the neighbors like the back of his hand, so it couldn’t have been that. Maybe a monster? Anyways, one day after school I came back home feeling sad. Mrs. Masons, my math teacher, had shouted at me after I got low marks on my last test. And Tommy Angleberger, the son of the leader of the factory, was being a brat. For example, today he took my social studies notebook and ripped it. When I started to cry, he teased me and kicked me in the stomach. None of the teachers did anything because they all had relatives who worked at the factory. And Tommy Angleberger had already said if I retaliated, he would tell his daddy to fire Gramps. My school, Blackwater Middle, was a living hell. The only half-good soul in there was Mr. Dreen, the principal. He was strict, but not mean. It’s…... kind of hard to explain. My school Is small by most standards, also. It is only a big dirt shack with rats running around. The cafeteria has mounds of dirt piled up. There are only 10 teachers. And around 100-110 students. I really knew nobody. Nobody liked to hang out with me in fear of getting on Tommy Angleberger’s bad side. I just sat on the floor, eating my half-cooked bread and dry meat. I was lucky, apparently. Some kids lived outside the school, jumping mailman for money and food. One day I came home early, I was sent home after punching Tommy in the face, even though he beat me up before that. The teachers wouldn’t even look me in the eye. I walked miserably home. As soon as I got home, I dumped my stuff near the kitchen and ran into the bog. The bog is kind of like my unwinding place. I used to not come here, but now it’s kind of like a safe retreat. I know which mud pools are 10 or 100 feet deep, and to avoid the big rock on the side, as it’s wobbly. I climbed an old, withered tree. Its bark was muddy brown, and its branches were pale and stiff. Luckily, they were still strong. I was so tired; I fell asleep on the barren branches. Crunch... I woke up with a start. Drowsily, I looked around. It was midnight, and the moon had risen high into the sky. Something was coming. Crunch. Crunch. The thing seemed to be getting closer. Afraid of moving, I stood deathly still. After a few seconds, A woman appeared. She was strangely ghostlike. Her face was pale and shiny. She had glossy blond hair kept in a bun. She wore a green skirt and red high heels. I felt weird about her. But then, she walked simply down a hill, and she was gone. Suddenly I felt a strange, ominous, presence. I ran back home as fast as I could. There was nobody home when I came back. The front door was wide open. There was a strange yellow light coming from the window. I was confused. Gramps should have been home by now. What was taking him so long? Suddenly I heard a voice. It was shrill and eerie, coming straight from the house. Suddenly I saw something move. Without hesitating, I jumped behind an old tire. I peered out. There was that strange lady again, but this time, there was blood drooling against her lips. My heart dropped when I saw a bloody ripped leather stuck in her mouth. It was Gramps pants. The very one he wore today. “NO!” I thought. Then I realized. I had left the door wide open. I had broken the number one rule Gramps had told me. Suddenly, the woman began to transform. The blond bun transformed into scaly black hair, and the serene eyes were replaced with eerie yellow dots. The doll-like arms grew claws. Then, it turned to me and attacked.

Luckily, I’m not slow. Quite the opposite. I rolled down, barely avoiding the sharp claws as it dug into the rubber tire. I started running back towards the house at full speed. I could hear snarls and grunts as the beast chased after me. Suddenly, I heard whirling and BAM! My vision went fuzzy. I almost collapsed, if not for the fact that I was about to die. Adrenaline kicked in, and I sped up even faster. I managed to get to the house and ran into the basement. Gramps had told me to never come into the basement. But this was an emergency. I yanked it open. Dust flew out everywhere. I collapsed on the floor, in a pool of blood. The beast had scraped my arm so badly, it looked like it had been run over by a car. It was turning a sickly black color, too. I turned my head weakly to see what I landed on. A pile of old newspapers. There were a lot of newspapers. Some were pinned to walls, others had certain bits outlined in shiny red marker. I picked up one of the newspapers. It was old and faded, and the washed-out headlines read, “DEMONS HAVE BEEN REALEASED IN BLACKWATER”. Underneath, it was a picture of a crudely drawn star in dirt. I felt my mind going blank. My arm burned so badly I wanted to cut it off. I picked up another newspaper. It read, “HUSBAND AND WIFE ARE KILLED BY DEMONS. And under it was a picture of my parents. Suddenly, it all clicked. All this time, Gramps had been keeping a deadly secret under. No wonder almost nobody lived here. I finally realized… everything. Suddenly, the door creaked open. And that’s when I realized I forgot to lock the basement door. THE END.

Tween Honorable Mention

Creator name: Eric L.

Story Title: Don’t Play Scary Video Games

All-nighters with your friends are not fun. Why are they not fun? Because when your video character suddenly pulls you into the screen and unleashes you into the game while you’re half asleep, your chances of survival and getting out before the zombies, hybrid dinosaurs, and clowns eat you are quite low. However, after my first all-nighter, which was crazy fun, I was not aware of the life-threatening catastrophes all-nighters could bring. Sometimes, you might not live. One particular day, I came home from school exhausted and depressed. After three exams at school, I still had to go home and do homework. School was very bad for my sanity; usually when I came home drained and wishing I could stop freaking about the twenty problems I didn’t understand on the latest Social Studies test, I would start thinking about great things to keep my mind off of stupid school. I imagined school getting nuked, me telling my teachers to shut up when they yelled at me for doing absolutely nothing, and Try and Survive. Try and Survive was me and my friends’ favorite survival video game, and sometimes it helped to feel the game as if it were real. Sometimes it helped to worry about getting infected and killed rather then getting trash grades on homework and quizzes. Well, I hallucinated about Try and Survive again. I decided that my mental health required some procrastination on homework and more party time. I immediately called my friends to come over. After eating pizza and hot dogs, we sprang to my room, crashed out onto the bean bags with a month supply of chips and doughnuts, and got straight to continuing our Try and Survive world. We had just finished reconstructing our base after a zombie attack had destroyed it. Now it was time to add reinforced defenses and obtain more resources before we starved. My stomach was feeling hungry. I was cold from the winter snow falling on our base, and I could feel the fire start to die out. We may have had defenses, but we were going to die from natural causes if we didn’t risk an expedition out of the walls to search for food and fuel. Wait, why was I feeling hunger? Why was I feeling the cold? It was the beginning of the school year, and we were still in summer. Wait a minute. My half-asleep body took a while to realize the oddness of my senses. But it dawned on me. I was feeling what my character was feeling in the game. I looked away from the big screen and turned to my friends. That's when I realized how different they looked. Alex for instance had a gruffy beard and was far more muscular than he used to be. Alex in gym class couldn’t even do a pushup, but now, he looked like he could do a hundred no problem. I shifted my body and looked at Max. He too looked more adult-like and was not the fat chubby kid he was supposed to be. He was lean and looked battle scared. Suddenly I felt a chill. I looked back, because it felt like someone was stalking me. I was right. What stood behind me was a fleshy, rotten zombie who looked as if its skin had been ripped apart by a car wash. It looked at me with its dark, dull eye sockets and limped towards me. In usual circumstances, if I saw a zombie in real life, I would have a heart attack and die. However, my dead mind was still in game mode, and I knew that my character had a level seven machine gun with plus two damage ammo. I reached behind my back and pulled out the majestic piece of metal. I quickly aimed and fired. My aim was spot on, and I dropped the zombie as it was walking. It stumbled and fell face-first into the ground. “Nice shot,” Alex said. “I know this is real strange and real dangerous, but I’m glad that we know how things work in this game.” I nodded. Try and Survive as our reality wasn’t too bad as we’ve been able to survive for quite a long time, just now we were actually feeling it. My friends and I already had gear to fight even the biggest zombie hoards. The only problem was that we needed food and fuel for our base. Lights out and no defenses would mean instant death if we were attacked. So, we agreed to set out into the dark forest in search of meat and any ancient wells for oil and other minerals. Trekking through the forest slowly, it was hard to make fast progress and the LED lights and lasers from our weapons made it extra creepy. We didn’t know when a zombie might jump out of nowhere and any sound we heard instantly put us on high alert. But after a while, we relaxed because we hadn’t stumbled upon any zombies, and we had found a preserved cave that had a small spring of fuel in it. However, as I started to step into the cave, my LED lights revealed disturbingly bright red stains on the rocks. When I focused on it, I could see the remains of a skeleton, its skull dented. Flesh and bloody remains hanged from the bones. “Quick! Over here!” I told my friends. They quietly shuffled over to my side and examined the skeleton. “I saw one over where I was,” said Alex “Oh yeah, same,” Max said. “I don’t really think this is a good omen,” I said. “Let’s try not to split up.” But that’s when we got split up. Multiple slimy, rough hands grappled onto my arms and pulled me through a hidden hole, and I heard the screams of my friends as they too disappeared in a blink of an eye, most likely snatched away by the hands. I assumed it would be zombies and I thrashed about wildly. I could not get bit. However, when I shot into my kidnappers, they did not make the usual zombie groan of pain. They made a zombie groan of pain but blended with a high pitched screech. It blew my ears and sent me into a panic. I had read earlier in the game wiki back home that caves could be haunted by a zombie dinosaur hybrid. The picture next to the description had nearly given me a nightmare at night, but now, as I turned my LED light on it, I could see the real disgusting features of the creature. Its skin was brownish green and looked like it had been rotting for two years. Flesh and human eyes were plastered over its bones and blinked. Its eyes reminded me of the dolls and clowns in horror movies and I practically wet my pants. I couldn’t move my eyes away from the rotten corpse. I was too scared to move and I was afraid the thing wasn’t dead, and it would jump out and bite me. That’s when I heard the thumping noise. My mind paid zero attention because it sounded like my heartbeat until my vision blurred. When it cleared, I saw that I was looking at a clown. It laid motionlessly on the ground where the zombie dinosaur hybrid had been and it had the same rotten, torn up skin. Its grin however was disturbing. It spread an inch wider. Then another inch. Then another inch. Then it widened impossibly, ripping its cheeks in the process and revealing a tremendous bite rigged with sharp bloody teeth. I screamed as the clown leaped at me. “Hehe,” it cackled. Then it whispered right into my ear, “Hehe, want to see a magic trick?” I screamed again and fired multiple rounds at the clown, but it disappeared. My bullets hit the rocks on the other side of the cave opening. I backed up slowly, watching the area where the clown had just been. But as I walked backwards, I left footprints, but the weird thing was, the toes were facing towards me when they should’ve been facing away. And they were red. I kept my eyes locked on the footprints that formed every time I took a step back. Suddenly, I backed into something. I quickly turned around. I could already picture the creepy clown in all its zombie form glory. To my surprise, I saw Alex and Max. “Whoa, hey,” I said. “What in the world just happened?” Then, two fleshy hands clamped around my mouth, and this time I couldn’t scream.

Teens Ages 13 to 17
Adults Ages 18 and Older
Notable Mention
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