50 Word Horror Stories

Dear George,

I was browsing around the internet when I ran across the 50 word horror story contest on everywritersresource.com.  That peaked my curiosity.  Entries have to be original, scary, exactly 50 words in length, and include a title (not counted in the 50 words).  You can enter as many times as you want.  First prize is $500, and the deadline is Oct. 25, 2019 (six days before Halloween).  Here are the stories I’ve been working on.

Love,

Dave

The Coven 

Madelyn was convinced that her new neighbors were witches.  Her husband Rex said that was poppycock.  When Madelyn got visibly upset by a late night gathering, Rex decided to  investigate.  He returned, announcing it was nothing.  Madelyn fainted.  His head had been shrunk to the size of a golf ball. 

Bathtub Games 

Robby played happily in the tub with his armada of toy boats, battling the perky alligator that frolicked below the surface.  His mother came in and gave him a smile.  She lifted Robby out, then screamed.  Blood was gushing out.  The bottom half of Robby’s torso  had been eaten away. 

A Mind Of Its Own

Mort was thrilled to own the first million dollar self-driving car in L.A.  “Vallejo,” he said on his maiden voyage.  When he realized the car misunderstood, he repeated “Vallejo, Vallejo!”  However they’d already entered Death Valley.   The temperature was one hundred sixty eight.  The vultures began circling overhead.  

Deep in the Heartland 

Randy arrived at the rural Indiana flea market.  “Look”, a red-haired boy shouted, “a Hillary Clinton button!”  Randy was immediately surrounded by farmhands wielding pitchforks and axe handles.  They wore dirty coveralls and MAGA caps.  “This is for The Great One,” they screamed.  “No, please,” were Randy’s last words. 

   

Sweet Dreams

Jackson begged the doctor for an Ambien refill.  In truth, he mostly liked the drug for the fantastic  hallucinations it produced.  Jackson popped the pill, and the sleep monster arrived in minutes.  Jackson marched into its cavernous jaws.  He apparently slept like the dead — no one ever located Jackson’s corpse. 

Mass Murder Gone Amuck 

The two teens snuck into the elementary school and retrieved their rifles from a closet.  Picking a third-grade classroom at random, they pushed open the door and screamed “Die!”.  The well-trained children calmly reached into their desks, pulled out their Smith & Wessons, and riddled the intruders with bullets.