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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.

Rotten

On my first day of middle school I got made fun of.

The children called me

Freak show

Midget

They called me eight.

I’m not eight. I’m twelve.

But now I’m thirty, and I laugh.

I laugh because they won’t ever hurt me again. They are… gone. Gone, gone, gone. What a funny word.

I laugh more at the funny word. People call me crazy, I’m not.

I’m righteous.

Those people deserved to die, they hurt me.

I laugh some more.

They won’t hurt me if they’re dead.

Mommu and Daddy call me the angel child.

I am righteous.

Those people deserved what they got.

I laugh some more.

People are scared of me.

That‘s Okay.

At least they’re not mean.

Else they’d have to be... Punished.

I wonder if those who walk past me on the street whisper to their neighbor about me.

I‘m just fabulous like that.

I laugh some more.

Why did they put me here? These white walls are too bright. They hurt my eyes.

Mom! Dad! Where are you? I scoff at myself. Still thirty and calling for my parents. But much like my outer self, I never lost that childish part of me.

I love to play games.

But no one wants to play with me. I wonder if they are scared by the rotted bodies of their successors.

I laugh some more.

Games are such fun.

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