6 Words of Horrible Horror Until the End of October Contest 2024
Calling all horror enthusiasts and masters of the macabre! Prepare to unleash your most terrifying tales in our spine-chilling 2024 Six Word Horror Story Contest. We challenge you to craft a nightmare in just six blood-curdling words.
Conjure the deepest fears lurking in the shadows of your imagination. Summon eldritch horrors, malevolent entities, and unspeakable terrors. Create a story that sends shivers down spines, raises goosebumps, and leaves readers trembling in the dark.
The Rules:
- Your horror story must be exactly six words – no more, no less.
- Each entry will be judged on its ability to elicit pure, unadulterated terror.
- You may enter as many spine-chilling stories as you dare.
- Submit your entries by the stroke of midnight on October 31st, 2024.
- Entries go in the comments below.
The Prizes:
- Bragging rights as the creator of the most terrifying six-word story.
- Announcement on Halloween night on our chat and a movie.
To enter, post your most hair-raising six-word horror story in the comments below. Remember, every word counts in this battle for horror supremacy.
Sign up for our Every Writer newsletter to receive a free digital copy of “Our Giant Horror Issue.”
The clock is ticking, and darkness gathers. Will you rise to the challenge and claim your place in horror history? Only the truly terrifying will survive.
Let the nightmares begin, and may the most spine-chilling story win!
Leave your 6 word stories in the comments, enter as many times as you like.
- 6 Words of Horrible Horror Until the End of October Contest - October 7, 2024
- Tombstone Verses: Halloween Horror Haiku Contest 2024 - October 1, 2024
- October 2024 Halloween Fright Contest: 50-Word Horror Stories - October 1, 2024
Astronaut, alone, heard knocking on hull.
Skin crawls. Look closer. They’re moving.
Sold baby shoes. Tiny footsteps at night.
Ouija board spells my unborn child’s name.
Oh, that’s not my childs voice.
The banner was made with AI.
Six feet underground, screams remain unheard.
Dusty basement.
Boxed dolls.
Faint whispers.
It’s here, I blink, it’s gone.
Sharp fangs blood guts spilled out!
Her tongue tasted her bloody eye.
Can’t move. Here it comes. Help.
Can’t breathe. I see it. No.
The power’s out, a phone rings.
She smiles knowingly, it never ends.
He licked the blade, his eyes hollow.
Cold hands silenced me, breathless terror.
She looked behind; he was gone.
They buried me alive; I’m awake.
My reflection smiled; I did not.
They clawed through windows, starving beasts.
The cat stared; glowing, unnatural eyes.
She stepped outside; everything disappeared completely.
Her photo aged; she stayed young.
Empty cradle rocked back and forth.
Her name erased. She remembered mine.
Her grave opened. She wasn’t inside.
Storm stopped. The knocking didn’t.
Dream ended. Nightmare started again.
Voice whispered, ‘Don’t wake them yet.
Voice whispered, “Don’t wake them yet”.
I blinked. She didn’t disappear.
It’s not your reflection watching you.
My shadow walks without me now.
They erased me. I’m still here.
Heart stopped. Knock came from inside.
She texted: “I died last night.”
Teeth under pillow weren’t mine.
Someone opened the door—without keys.
No more death. Disease, accidents, though…
Something scratched, inside my skin.
I typed goodbye. It deleted itself.
I touched it. It grabbed back.
I closed my eyes too late.
Body bag twitched in the morgue.
My wedding ring strangled me.
The elevator button pressed itself.
He wasn’t buried deep enough.
And he was never seen again.
He wasn’t supposed to be home.
Four went in. None came out.
The doll blinked; I wasn’t playing.
The mirror reflected someone else’s face.
Something crawled beneath the bed tonight.
I heard my name whispered softly.
The doll walked past, dripping blood.
The priest screamed. Died. Screamed again.
Scratches on the wall spelled “HELP.”
I stared at the empty chair.
He whispered, “You’re next.”
The cat dropped a bloody surprise.
I’m full. Well…just another eye!
The creature heard me. It laughed.
Full moon howling of the wind.
Foggy night and a full moon.
“No! Where’s my baby’s other head?’
‘Don’t look behind you. Just run.’
My husband is in the oven.
Pin. Wax. Hank of hair. Ready!
“Here Lies Martha Ann Ryeweather. Sometimes.”
The dollhouse is active again tonight.
The trees have begun to walk.
‘Jane.’
‘What?’
‘Didn’t you die?’
‘Yes.’
Lifeguard wanted for pool of blood.
‘Nurse! Where’s my baby’s other head?’
The midwife screams.
The father faints.
The presence disappeared whenever I turned.
Kill me once, shame on me…
Kill me once, shame on you…
I wish that statue’d keep still.
Here she is.
Pleas don’t run.
‘Julia?’
‘Yes?’
‘Tony’s heart?’
‘Was yummy.’
The children killed the right woman.
‘Round up all the left-handed people.’
‘Stay in your grave, Lily.’
‘No.’
Everyone on earth died.
Except me.
Dear Sister,
Burn this, Then him.
Rattling of chains;that erie sound.
Found a note: “I’m still here.”
“Turn around,” the text message read
No more death.
Don’t bother pleading.
He had lovely eyes. Very tasty.