2 Sentences of Horror Game!
Our Haiku contest is doing pretty well, getting lost of interaction, which we love seeing. So I thought maybe another short game we could play would go over just as well.
This is the 2 Sentences of Horror Challenge game. You have a write a horror story using only 2 sentences. No word limit, just sentences. Please post them in the comments below.
If we like the stories, we will contact you and talk about how we might publish them. We might want to put them on tiles for sharing on FB, publishing on EWR: Short Stories, or even filling the margins of our upcoming issue of Every Writer the Magazine. Buzzfeed had some good examples of these a little while back.
We will make sure you get FULL CREDIT for your story. We will list your name, and maybe twitter handle. These tiles will be for sharing. They will be read a few days before Halloween and we’ll send them to our fans via Twitter and FB.
The Rules:
1. The story must be scary
2. Must be 2 sentences
3. Must follow traditional grammar conventions. (Sentence can be as long as you want, but you can’t just string a 2 page run on, and say that it is a sentence.)
4. DEADline 10/28/2014.
5. I’m not going to set a number of people that will be published. The ones we really like, we will make circulate, could be 5 could be 25.
Lastly, please make sure to add your name to the post. If you have a pen name, include it.
Follow him on Twitter, and check out our Submissions page.
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I’ve been a substitute teacher in many cities with a shockingly high number of missing children’s cases. It’s weird that no one thinks to ask the victims’ substitute teacher for her alibi.
It’s amazing how cold it can get here during the winter. It’s also amazing how much more quickly blood congeals on a knife in freezing temperatures.
I’ve been frustrated and dissatisfied with my love life lately, which my boyfriend says is normal for every couple from time to time. Of course, he also says it’s normal for him to sprout horns and a tail from time to time.
“Haunted”
The second cup of bleach didn’t burn as bad going down and the pain is now just a sonorous thrumming. So soon I’ll be one of the haunters and not the other way around.
Each night I see his shadow on this moon-lamp lit path.
A steel blue gaze, waiting for just the right moment.
A friend asked why I was repainting the entire living room just because my husband lost his job. I thought of the carefully hidden mallet, formerly bloody walls and mound of dirt in the backyard, and thought, That’s not all he lost.
I thought only my grandma’s brains and flesh were decaying. When I turned the corner, though, into her little room, she looked me dead in the eye-a little vomit on her nightgown and I swear her eyes were bleeding- and said, “god help me.”
He warned her the house they’d be living in together would be haunted. He just didn’t mention she’d be doing the haunting.
Every time my guests ask why the sound of a tuba is coming from upstairs I say, “Oh, that’s just my son, practicing for orchestra.” The truth is I don’t have a son and have lived here fourteen years without any roommates, let alone any who play the tuba.
Jill asked her grandpa why he kept a pair of human eyeballs in a jar on his desk.
“Because the rest of him wouldn’t fit in there,” he replied.
I don’t know what made me cry more: my uncle laughing when I told him that I was colour blind; him dying of Ebola; or that all he left me was his lousy green hankerchief to wipe my tears. Then my daughter said, “Well, it is a nice looking hankerchief even if it is blood-red.”.
I hate spam. I’ll remove that soonest….Keep sending those 2 word stories. We need more for our issue…
Amanda couldn’t see or even move, but could distinctly hear the surgeon say:
“Alright, she’s out – scalpel.”
My brother stops by for a visit. He continues to ask about my couches and where I bought such “uniquely tanned” leather.
The baby’s laughter filled the room. I’d feel more at ease if there were any children in the house.