IDK

I don’t know why we both became the things we promised never to be...

I don’t know why we both chose to leave the thing that made us feel so free...

I don’t know why you hate me

I don’t know if I still love you

Do I?

No...

Yes...

Maybe so...

I don’t know...

I just don’t understand how I can hate you as I yet still want you...

I don’t understand how I can make all attempts to avoid eye contact with you... but still want you to look at me...

I DON’T KNOW

Challenge

Stalker Farms 1st Annual Horror Short Contest

I work for a haunt attraction in Snohomish WA called "Stalker Farms". It is an immersive experience haunt with story lines and characters, so we are looking for stories, back stories, tall tales, feverish recollections, bad dreams haunting memories... Write a horror story that creates a tale of horror around one, two, or all of the characters described herein. We will link from our Facebook to your entries on Prose to get you more readers! These are short stories, we are looking for up to 500 words max. Our staff will pick a winner. If anyone lives in Western Washington then we will comp tickets to anyone that enters a submission and wants to come out. The winner gets $100. Good luck! Write a story about any or all of the following characters: Suzie - The golden child of the Slasher family. She is spoiled rotten to the core. Her demented giggles taunt her play mates. Over 30 years old but she still doesn’t look a day over eight. Chuck - A butcher that takes a lot of pride in his cuts. He is known for his barbecue, just don't mind pulling a few human hairs out of your teeth. Make sure you don't complain or you will find yourself unlucky enough to be served next. Eski - No bloody sacrifice is enough to appease the terrible craving for blood demanded by this horror, born of a thousand tortured soul's tormented screams.

SilasG in Horror & Thriller

64 reads

While He Sleeps

No one ever talks about Evelyn Pierce. She was an older widowed woman. No one really new her past. All anyone ever new was certain was that this old wrinkled woman’s husband, a man by the name of Nathaniel Patton, had died years ago, far before I was born.

Nathaniel had returned from harvesting their annual wheat crop. Evelyn had been baking a vanilla cake for a church gathering and she stepped out to tend to her flower bed. She left the rusted gas oven on too long, and it leaked. The gas swelled, filling the house, and one little spark flicker for a moment from that old oven... The whole house was enveloped with fire, tongues of fire licking the ceiling, while Nathaniel slept silently in his cedar rocking chair.

37 years later, no one has seen Evelyn. The rumors galavant about. “She did it on purpose!”

”I saw her running away as soon as she knew he was dead!”“She died in the fire too!”

I believe the last one. And you know why? Because I’ve seen her. Not in the daytime. Just at night. In my dreams. It’s dark. Then it bursts into a beautiful and yet horrible crimson-orange as wisps of fire begin to caress my skin as the house crumbles to ashes around me. I am Nathaniel in his rocking chair. Asleep as the world around me burns. I’m asleep but I still see the flames, smell the smoke, feel my flesh shrivel from the heat...

and I see something else...

and old woman...

cackling...

as she she tends to her lilies, tulips, and blood red roses...

And I just now saw the story prompts... oops