20 more two-sentence horror stories

I recently saw a list of two-sentence horror stories that have been circulating on the Internet. Most appear to have come from this reddit thread in which someone asked “What is the best horror story you can come up with in two sentences?” People posted some really creepy ones. I decided to see what I can do.

Below are my attempts at two-sentence horror stories (or otherwise creepy stories). What do you think? Do any of these scare you? If you think you can do better, leave your own two-sentence horror story in the comments.

Two-sentence horror stories

I’m not afraid of the cemetery. It’s the only place the ghosts don’t follow me.

I enter the empty elevator and push the button for my floor. As the doors close I feel a hand cover my mouth.

It’s hard fighting the urge to hurt myself. My only comfort is knowing that I can hurt the girl in the trunk instead.

When we bought the house I assumed the scratches on the inside of the basement door were from a dog, but the neighbors say the previous owner didn’t have one. This morning the scratches had multiplied.

She felt the heat as the flames engulfed the only house she’d ever known. When the screams subsided she smiled, knowing she was finally alone.

I let my little girl sleep with me at night. I still like to snuggle with her despite the increasingly pungent smell of her rotting flesh.

My dog’s muddy paws tell me he has been to to the cemetery again. The footsteps in the hall tell me he has not returned alone, but this time I have my ax.

The lights flicker. I put the pillow over my head, so I won’t hear the screams this time.

The problem with sneaking out is that your parents have no idea where to look for you. By the time they find this cage you will not be alive.

I tell myself that the scratching sounds in the attic are probably squirrels. I choose to ignore the scratching sounds at my bedroom door, the ones from inside the closet, and the ones under the bed even though I can feel them tearing through the bottom of the mattress.

I hear my son scream, so I rush upstairs to comfort him back to sleep. He doesn’t believe me when I say everything is okay, perhaps because he sees the creature that followed me to his room.

I hesitantly scrolled through a website full of pictures of me sleeping and realized that in each image the strange man gets closer to my bed. In the one uploaded last night he was lifting the blanket.

“The lake is so peaceful at night,” he thought as he floated in the rowboat under the moonlight. “The lake is so peaceful at night,” he thought until he dipped his fingers in the water and something pulled him in to drown.

He loved waking to sunlight on his face, but it was 3 am, the curtains were closed, and the light was coming from an orb hovering over his bed. “Dana?”

Finally to his car he drove away from there as fast as he could. When he felt safe enough to breathe a voice from the backseat said, “Leaving so soon?”

There is nothing like the pitter patter of little feet, hundreds of little feet, knowing they will climb onto the bed and smother you unless wake up right NOW. Wake up, dammit!

He ran to the next house, but that door was locked too. The boy collapsed in exhaustion as the clawed hand dragged him back to the others.

Okay, mama, I will go to sleep and not talk about the man in my closet anymore. He’s going to your room now anyway, right, mister?

They said I’d experience “phantom limb syndrome” when it would sometimes feel like my arm was still there. They didn’t say I’d wake up at night to it strangling me.

I burned the dolls even though my children cried. They did not understand my fear because they assumed I was who moved the dolls into their beds each night.

*     *     *     *

Want more creepy stories? Check out these:

For more (generally not spooky) stories read my 20 incredibly short bedtime stories and the other Fiction Friday posts here.

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