Over on IO9.com they have posted a thread asking about the scariest short story you’ve ever read. I have made the tragic, tragic mistake of reading some of these bone-chilling, spine-tingling, skin-crawling short stories and I have scared the ever living shit out of myself.
Right there on the post was the short story was “Harold” from Alvin Schwartz’s Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. That should have been enough; I should have stopped. But no. I have been fool enough to read F. Marion Crawford’s “The Upper Berth,” which written in 1894 and is still scary as hell. I read “It’s A Good Life” by Jerome Bixby and have been shuddering ever since. I read this stupid Goatman story and creeped myself all the way out. Then my brain decided to remember the scariest short stories it had read before, like Stephan King’s The Boogeyman and The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe.
What’s worse is that none of these short stories is as terrifying as the two-sentence horror stories that are haunting (see what I did there) my brain. Some of the gems that have me quaking:
“My sister says that mommy killed her. Mommy says that I don’t have a sister.”
“I can’t move, breathe, speak or hear and it’s so dark all the time. If I knew it would be this lonely, I would have been cremated instead.”
“I woke up to hear knocking on glass. At first, I though it was the window until I heard it come from the mirror again.”
“”I can’t sleep” she whispered, crawling into bed with me. I woke up cold, clutching the dress she was buried in.”
“After working a hard day I came home to see my girlfriend cradling our child. I didn’t know which was more frightening, seeing my dead girlfriend and stillborn child, or knowing that someone broke into my apartment to place them there.”
It’s only AFTER I have freaked my nerves to pieces that my parents (who are visiting) decided to run over to the mall AND my Sweet Babou headed over to Spock’s preschool to help with a computer emergency. Now, I am all alone in an empty house. Sure, it is broad daylight. Nevertheless, it is windy and the wind makes the house creak. Or the leaves rustle outside like someone is walking around. I can hear that shit even over the sound of my typing. Other than the spooky wind sounds and the click-click noises from the keyboard the house is completely silent.
My wee dog just barked at a squirrel and I shat myself.
No more eerie reads for me!!