The Movie

Wrote this from a writing group prompt.  Something to do with something happening on tv effecting what’s happening in the room…

Flash Fiction: Horror Drama

Mary didn’t usually watch horror movies.

Her mother wasn’t sure why she had chosen to rent this one.  Mary typically picked romances or comedies.  Something light-hearted.  But as the opening credits rolled, she snuggled under a blanket on the couch as the stings of the nerve-wracking music rang throughout the living room and into the kitchen.  Her mother watched Mary from the breakfast nook, studying how her dark hair shone in the dim light.  Mood lighting for a scary story.

It took twenty minutes for the ghost to finally appear: a black silhouette in the background, a bit out of focus.  The protagonist – a stubborn skeptic – spun around, and it was gone.  Mary jumped, startled, and turned to look behind her.  But it was only her mother there, by the fireplace.  She laughed at herself and turned back to the movie.

The movie was winding its way to its end when the ghost finally revealed itself to the skeptic.  Mary’s mother stood behind the couch, as engrossed in the movie as Mary, as engrossed in Mary as in the movie.  The ghost reached out to the woman, and mother reached out to Mary.  Mary shivered and again checked over her shoulder.  But of course no one was there.  She was alone in the house tonight.

The Orphans

Drabble: Horror

He had been inspecting the hospital for four days, speaking with the sick and dying children who had no family to come visit them as they lay in their sterile white beds.  He had listened to the ancient nurse and caretaker as she sang to the orphans each night.  It was a strange song, soothing but also somehow disturbing.  It reached deep inside him, touching the edges of his mind like a faded memory.

And it was strange how his clothes seemed to be one size larger than a few days ago, and how he had developed a persistent cough.

She’s at the Window

Drabble: Horror

“Daddy, she’s at the window again.”

I open my eyes to see Arty standing next to my bed.  He points to the window behind me and I lift my head to look.  There is a dark figure sitting at the window, watching the snow fall outside.

I open my eyes.  It was just a dream.  Arty isn’t in the room, and the figure at the window…

I roll over.  She’s there, sitting at the window.  She begins to turn to me.

I open my eyes.  Just a dream.  But I can feel her eyes on me, watching.  I roll over…

The Recording

Drabble: Horror

He stopped the tape and rewound it, the buttons making a loud KA-CHUNK sound in the stillness of the room.

He had let the cassette record for an hour straight, intending to catch some hint of ghostly conversation or howling, or even just any sound that he hadn’t heard during the time of recording. Some proof that the house was haunted.

He pressed Play, eagerly waiting to hear what the tape had recorded. He didn’t have to wait for long before he heard:

“He stopped the tape and rewound it, the buttons making a loud KA-CHUNK sound in the stillness…”