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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of horror short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

Horror Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. From hauntings and murderers to terrifying creatures from the deep, our collection of horror stories will have you breaking out in cold sweats. Take a look… if you dare.

Horror Short Stories – Page 4

To Remember a Man

Weekly Contest #376

“Did you hear that?” Poppy hissed after several seconds of what I could only assume was her holding the phone out her apartment window. “Oh, Poppy.” I said, finally understanding why she was upset. “Someone is screaming outside!” She was all out of breath with concern. “Yeah.” I replied, not sure what to say. “That’s the city for you.” “What? Shouldn’t I call 911?” She asked with an incredulity I’m sure I’d once possessed, when I, too, was new to the charms of downtown. “You can call,” I paused, “but this sort of thing happens a lot her...

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The Day Before Tomorrow

Weekly Contest #376

Content Warning: Contains themes of grief and brief blood imagery. A horn blares. The screech of rubber against tarmac rings in my ears, immobilising me. For a brief moment, I hardly remember where I am. When I turn my head stiffly and notice the driver clenching his steering wheel with an iron grip, unintelligibly shouting in my direction, my mind is only focused on how close I came to losing tomorrow. Which indeed, would be tragic. After all, tomorrow will be the first day off I’ve had for a while now. Returning to my senses, I shout back...

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Buzz Kill!

Weekly Contest #376

Buzz Kill! Trigger Warning- This short story contains Strong Language, Suspense, and the Death of Insects! Introduction- Them! “We’re not alone. Did you hear that?” Nell asked her guests at the dinner party. She could hear buzzing coming from overhead. “Yikes! Do we kill it?! I’m allergic to bees!” she exclaimed as she spotted it. It was literally ginormous. Its magnificent stinger was incredibly visible and scary. Terrifying actually. Nell felt shivers, and as the bee approached her, she picked up her dinner plate, and batted the bee acr...

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The Beast In the Shadows

Weekly Contest #376

Beneath a moonless sky, a crowded SUV crawled through a sloppy dirt road. Scattered clouds drifted by, the wind glittered with frozen mist. In the backseat, with a massive pack of equipment buckled into the seat beside her, Aubrey wondered, for the tenth time, what she had gotten herself into. Peter had insisted they needed it all: numerous lanterns and flashlights, an expensive camera she hadn’t known he owned, a tripod, and two space heaters. Not to mention their sleeping bags, clothes, and food. “We’re only camping the night, and then lea...

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After Nightfall

Weekly Contest #376

It was pitch-black inside the forest. As we walked between the trees, flashlights in hand, leaves crunched beneath our shoes. Crickets chirped in the distance, and there wasn’t another human in a five-mile radius. The treetops concealed the sky, allowing only slivers of moonlight to filter through the branches. It was a beautiful yet creepy night. After all, it was Halloween, and exploring haunted mansions, abandoned buildings, or sometimes forests was our tradition. “It’s so quiet here,” Jack, my best friend, whispered, as if someone might ...

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Night Shift

Weekly Contest #376

Carol makes the appointment and drives him there herself, because otherwise he will not go. She says so in the car. "You wouldn't go, Dad." "I'd go," Walt says. "You say what all the time now. You say it to Mom forty times a day. I counted at Easter." He doesn't argue. He watches the wipers. The audiologist is a young man with soft hands and a cold. He fits the things into Walt's ears, taps something on a laptop, and the room comes up around him like water rising in a tub. The hum of the light. Carol's coat when she crosses her legs. His own...

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The Last Entry

Weekly Contest #376

Elena Vásquez had logged the hum for eleven years, four months, and nine days. The logbook lived on the kitchen table, next to the salt shaker, because the kitchen was where the hum came through clearest — up through the floor tiles, through the soles of her slippers, a low tone like a refrigerator thinking too hard about something. Every night at 11:40, she pressed her palm flat to the table and wrote down what she felt. Steady. Same as yesterday. The dog hears it too. That last part wasn't data. It was just true. The dog — a cattle mix nam...

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The Lamia Wish

Weekly Contest #376

The Wish Before I tell you this, can you scoot over and promise me something? Don’t ever tell anybody about this because they are still looking for me. And it will never stop. Their thirst for it. The hunt is still on and the traps are still set but I won’t let them drag me back there again. It's just it's been five years since the clearing and I wake every morning and it's in my brain first thing, along with the sweats. Why is it every day that I feel the pain? The headaches that never stop. The bounty is all on my head now. But, I’m noone’...

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הוּא מְחַכֶּה לָנוּ, וְאַתָּה לְמִי מְחַכֶּה?/ Hu mechakéh lánu, ve'atáh lemí mechakéh?/ He awaits us, but whom dost thou await?

Weekly Contest #376

Beat I: Bdelygma kataphronētikon/Scornful Stench. Walking into the living room, Eved was instantly struck by a wave of intense nausea. He had been awoken from a deep sleep not by a sound, but by an intrusive, suffocating odor slipping beneath his bedroom door—a chaotic conflict between the cloying sweetness of cheap tallow candles burning by the dozen and the heavy scent of stagnant grave-dirt blooming from the shadows. Eved swallowed hard, the cold, metallic taste catching in his throat and forcing a dry cough from his lips. "What are you d...

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SWEET HEART

Winner of Weekly Contest #376 🏆

I wanted to tear his heart out. Watch the scarlet blood squirt from severed arteries and carve trails like rivers down my hand. Feel the thick muscle squirm, pump, thump—until it ceased to beat. I wanted to sink my teeth into the rubbery organ. Shred it. Chew it. Take my time. Let the iron coat my tongue. Feel the warmth slide down my throat. “So that’s me,” he said, snapping my attention back. He briefly touched the inside of my wrist, his touch as light as a butterfly’s wings, his head tilted. “What about you? What are you hoping to get ou...

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The Bloodridden

Weekly Contest #376

When he awoke, it was not to salvation, but to the stench of rot. Rain slicked the stones of the capital, washing the blood of the dead into the gutters. The moon hung pale above, a single white eye staring down without pity. He had prayed for God’s hand, for warmth, for mercy, but only numbness answered. It cradled him now, hollow and cold, as he wandered the streets of a city that had forgotten the living. The spires of the great cathedral jutted through the mist, their bells silent, their doors chained shut. Once, he had knelt beneath tho...

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Things I Did Not Break

Weekly Contest #376

The ledger is a school exercise book with a green cover, the kind that comes in packs of ten from the supermarket. Nell is on her fourteenth. She keeps it in the glovebox with the tuning hammer and the felt mutes. Before every job she reads the last page, the way other people check their teeth in the rear-view mirror. Tuesday. Mrs Okafor's Yamaha, top C. The cup in the café (the handle). The man on the bus with his hand on the rail. She can't remember when she started writing it down. She remembers when it started. She was seven. Her mother ...

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In a Glass, Darkly

Weekly Contest #376

*** Content Warnings: Contains themes of domestic violence, physical violence, gore, abuse, and sexual violence. *** Marco was finally asleep on the bed. Silvia eased out of bed and went into the bathroom. The bright light made her wince. Her reflection showed a woman cowed and bruised, unable to smile because of the damage to her face. Her eyes filled with tears, and she sat on the toilet seat, with her head in her hands. Every so often she tore off some toilet paper to wipe her eyes. Years of practice had taught her to cry silently. One ...

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Mirror, mirror

Weekly Contest #376

What is that strange whimpering noise? It echoes round inside my head like a rotting dream. Like a hound tied to a tree inside a storm of rain. Inside my head. Like a storm of echoes inside a rotting tree. I need to stop the thinking. It has eroded my senses ever since I took that helmet-on-helmet whack. Concussion protocol be damned. I managed to fake it and went back on. Took another whack. Maybe that’s where it started? I was blind. Couldn’t see a damn thing, though I heard the team doctor talking, asking me to follow his finger. I can’t ...

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Please Use the Side Door

Weekly Contest #376

The sign had been laminated badly. MONSTERS IN RECOVERY WEDNESDAYS, 1:00 A.M. PLEASE USE THE SIDE DOOR A cloudy bubble trapped PLEASE beneath the plastic. Somebody had redrawn the arrow after the first one pointed toward a locked utility closet. Gerald stood beneath it when Bernard arrived, stone wings tucked beneath the awning, one horn scraping aluminum. “I object to this sign.” Bernard stopped beside him. “You object to most signs.” Gerald jabbed one claw toward the sign. “Why the side door?” “Because the meeting is in the basement.” “The...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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