5 Short Stories for Halloween

Happy Halloween, readers! Today we've decided to share 5 scary stories in this creepy collective. Enjoy these spine-chilling tales of the mysterious to share with your friends around a Holiday Blunt. 

“The Watcher in the Mirror”

Lily moved into her new place with a sense of excitement. It was an old Victorian home with character, a bit of wear and tear, but that only added to its charm. While unpacking, she found a large, dust-covered mirror in the attic. Intrigued, she decided to clean it up and hang it in the hallway, appreciating the intricate carvings on its frame and the heavy, ancient glass that gave her reflection an oddly muted glow.

At first, it was just a passing feeling. She would walk by the mirror, and out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something—a movement that didn’t quite match hers, a shadow that flickered and then vanished. She chalked it up to nerves and the natural creaks of an old house settling. But over the next few nights, her unease grew. Her reflection seemed slower to follow her movements, and when she looked away, she felt as if it was still staring, watching her with eyes that seemed to hold a strange, unfamiliar glint.

One night, she decided to test her suspicion. Standing directly in front of the mirror, she raised her right arm slowly. Her reflection matched her, but there was a hesitation, as if it were struggling to keep up. She shifted to the left, and her reflection moved a moment later. Goosebumps prickled her skin as her reflection’s eyes seemed to widen, the faintest hint of a grin appearing at the corners of its mouth.

Shaking, Lily turned to walk away, but in a moment of horror, she caught a glimpse of her reflection lingering, that smile widening to an unnatural stretch, almost mocking her. She stopped dead in her tracks, unable to breathe, her eyes darting back to the mirror. Her reflection was standing still, staring back with an expression that didn’t belong to her.

Suddenly, her reflection raised its hand, pressing its palm against the glass. Its mouth moved silently, forming words she couldn’t hear but could read clearly: “Let me out.”

In a panic, Lily stumbled backward, her heart hammering in her chest. She felt trapped, unable to tear her gaze away as her reflection’s smile grew into something sinister, its eyes gleaming with a hunger she couldn’t understand. She ran from the hallway, locking herself in her bedroom, breathing heavily as she tried to make sense of what she had seen.

The next morning, she grabbed a hammer and smashed the mirror into pieces. Shards flew across the hallway, the twisted grin of her reflection shattering along with the glass. She thought it was over, that she had rid herself of whatever horror had taken residence in the mirror.

But every reflective surface in her house began to change. Her own face became a haunting stranger, that twisted smile lurking in every window, every polished surface, as if her reflection was still trapped, waiting…and watching.

“Room 404”

Dan had always been a thrill-seeker, so when he heard about the mysterious Room 404 at a small, out-of-the-way inn, he couldn’t resist. Rumors about the room spoke of strange disappearances and visions that had driven people to madness. The night clerk, an older woman with wary eyes, tried to dissuade him, but a generous tip finally persuaded her to hand over the key.

The hallway leading to Room 404 was dimly lit and silent. Dan felt a chill down his spine as he reached the door, noticing a faint, metallic smell in the air. He hesitated for a moment, key in hand, before finally unlocking the door and stepping inside.

The room was dark, illuminated only by a single flickering bulb. It looked ordinary enough—a bed, a small chair, and a dresser against the wall. But an oppressive weight seemed to fill the air, as though something unseen was pressing down on him. Closing the door, he felt a shiver of unease as he noticed a faint imprint on the bed, as if someone had recently been lying there.

Trying to shake off the feeling, he crossed the room, but a scratching sound began in the walls, faint at first, then growing louder. He pressed his ear against the wall, listening, and could just make out the soft, frantic sound of whispers. Heart pounding, he turned to leave, but the door wouldn’t budge. He yanked harder, panic setting in as the whispers became voices, whispering his name, taunting him.

“Why did you come back, Dan?” a voice hissed from the darkness. He spun around, searching for the source, but the room was empty. Shadows flickered in the corners, swirling as if they were alive, moving closer with each passing second. Desperate, he banged on the door, his fists growing sore, but there was no answer, no sound except for the growing chorus of voices calling his name.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and he stumbled out, gasping for air. The hallway was empty, and the night clerk stared at him with wide eyes as he staggered toward her.

“Room 404?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Sir, there is no Room 404.”

Dan turned back, and where the door had been, there was only a blank wall. As he reached out to touch it, he felt a faint scratching beneath the surface, as if something trapped inside was clawing its way back to him.

“The Shadow Under the Bed”

The first night Jenny slept in her new apartment, she woke to the sound of scratching under her bed. Groggy and half-asleep, she brushed it off as her mind playing tricks. But each night, at exactly 3:00 AM, the noise returned—soft at first, then louder, as if something were frantically trying to claw its way out from underneath.

After a week of sleepless nights, she decided to investigate. She turned on her bedside lamp, took a deep breath, and leaned over the edge of her bed, her eyes scanning the dark space beneath. But all she saw was the empty floor and the faint shadows cast by her trembling hands. Relieved, she lay back down, convincing herself that it was just her imagination.

The next night, as she lay awake, the scratching began again, accompanied this time by a faint whisper. “Jenny…” The voice was a low hiss, almost too soft to hear. She froze, her skin prickling as she felt something cold brush against her foot.

She wanted to scream but couldn’t move, paralyzed by fear. She gripped the edge of the bed, her heart racing, and mustered the courage to look over the side once more. Beneath the bed, two gleaming eyes stared back at her, wide and empty, accompanied by a twisted smile that stretched far too wide.

A cold, bony hand shot out, grabbing her ankle, pulling her closer to the edge. She struggled, kicking and screaming, but the grip only tightened, nails digging into her skin. The voice grew louder, a shrill, distorted laugh echoing through the room. “Found you.”

The lights flickered, and just as quickly as it had started, the hand released her. She scrambled off the bed, gasping, her heart pounding, as she saw nothing beneath her bed except silence and darkness.

But every night since, she wakes to that same scratching noise, that same cold whisper, and the sensation that something is waiting for her…just out of sight.

“The Uninvited Guest”

Sarah’s Halloween party was the talk of the town. Friends filled every corner of her house, laughter echoing off the walls, but there was one figure she couldn’t shake. It stood in the corner, dressed in a black hooded cloak and an eerie white mask, completely still and silent. At first, she assumed it was a friend playing up the Halloween spirit.

As the night wore on, she began to notice that no one else seemed to interact with the figure. Whenever she looked, it was always there, watching her with an intensity that sent chills down her spine.

When the party ended, she approached the figure, nervously asking, “Who are you?” No response. Her hand reached out, trembling, and she lifted the mask. She gasped, stumbling back in horror.

Underneath the mask was her own face, hollow-eyed, pale, and expressionless. The figure wore a twisted version of her own smile, a look of pure malice. Before she could react, the lights went out, plunging her into darkness. She fumbled for the switch, heart racing, and when she flicked it back on, the figure was gone.

Sarah looked around, breathing heavily, trying to convince herself it was just a trick of her mind. But then she caught her reflection in the hallway mirror, and her blood ran cold. Her face was her own… but her eyes were hollow, empty, and staring back with that same malicious grin.

“The Haunted Photograph”

Mark had a knack for finding old treasures at flea markets, but this photograph was different. It was a sepia-toned picture of a family standing in front of a decaying farmhouse, their faces solemn and haunting. He couldn’t resist its eerie charm and brought it home, hanging it on his wall.

That night, he awoke to faint whispers, an almost inaudible hum coming from the photograph. He squinted in the dark, feeling as though the figures had shifted ever so slightly. The next morning, a chill ran down his spine when he noticed a new shadowy figure in the farmhouse window, a shape that hadn’t been there before.

Each night, he noticed subtle changes in the photograph. The shadow grew closer to the family, its features becoming clearer. It had hollow, empty eyes, staring directly out of the frame. He tried to remove the photo, but it wouldn’t budge, as if it had become part of the wall.

One night, the whispers turned into a chilling chant, and he found himself drawn to the photo, unable to look away. He watched, horrified, as the shadow finally reached the family, standing among them, its hollow eyes now fixed on him alone.

Desperate, he tried to burn it, to destroy it. But the next morning, the photograph was back on his wall, untouched. And now, standing among the shadowy family, was his own face, a twisted grin frozen forever.

 

We hope you enjoyed our 5 short stories for Halloween.