#100WordHorror ★ Avrin Kelly

When I was a kid, my brother, Jack, always used to peep under my door at night. It wasn't anything pervy, I figured he just wanted to snitch on me for sitting in my closet reading by flashlight after bedtime.

My parents and I shared a wall and they would argue most nights, so, I always knew where they were in the house. It's hard to lose track of two people when they're screaming at each other. 

when we moved into a smaller house, I learned the truth. 

My parents were fighting one night and my brother and I now had to share a room. I realized it wasn't Jack peeping under my door. 

It never had been.★

AK

#100WordHorror ★ Marc Tizura

“Who sent you?”

The Crone that lorded over him demanded in a high-pitched quivery voice. He would have answered, but the Crone had ripped out his tongue and ate it before his eyes. 

“Tastes as sweet as candy, so it does,” The Crone announced with a witch’s cackle.

He opened his mouth to protest a flow of red life water came gushing, as did the only sound he could now make: a moaning cry. 

This sound drew on more cackles from the cartoonish hag that stood over him. He was told to stay away from the house on Crone Hill, and now, to his horror, he was finding out why. 

She racked her long jagged nails down his bare chest peeling up bits of skin which she quickly tore off and ate. He howled in agony; a watery choking noise which immediately drew more cackles from her. 

“Don’t have an answer? Well, don’t worry I will remake you, my sweet. You’ll be one of my dolls like all the others who have trespassed my hill.” The Crone whispered in his ear, her hot breath on his cheek.

In a flash, she clawed out his eyes. 

He let loose a howl as she cackled. Before the pain took him to the land of unconscious darkness where he would stay, he thought he saw a vision of a dark tower in a field of roses somewhere.★    

Marc Tizura is a published author. His debut novel was The Man from Grenin. 

He is also an actor and is the host of an awesome and always entertaining hashtag game on Twitter #tfteotw, which stands for "Tales From The End of The World". If ever you feel like playing, tune in to his YouTube channel and watch out for his weekly video prompts where he explains how to play.

Marc lives in Chicago, but don't worry, you can catch him on social media here:



Twitter (@areyouingrenin) 
Last but not least, don't forget to pop in and visit Marc's blog: MarcTizura.wordpress.com 

#100WordHorror ★ S.A. Thurtle

The candle light threw a warmth to his skin but not so warm as the glow cast by her love. Only a week in and she couldn’t get enough. His hypnotic blue eyes, full lips and that smile?

The man she dreamed of. 

And tonight? Tonight, she would give herself to him. Completely.

He tilted his head, brows furrowed in askance of her silence. 

“Sorry, I got lost. I… I just love your face.” She breathed the words, leaning in to kiss his lips.

He laughed with cold, rancid breath. “And I love how you think this face is mine.”★

S.A. Thurtle is writer, blogger and freelancer wordsmith. Native of the UK, an exciting series of life choices and random chance now sees him living in The Netherlands. There’s probably a book in that turn of events alone. 

He’s working on three different novels spanning fantasy, sci-fi and… the other one. He will finish one at some point. Honest.

Until that glorious day, you can find blogs and short stories on his website here: https://sathurtle.com  or keep up to date with his random musing on Twitter: https://twitter.com/sathurtle or Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sathurtle/ .

#100WordHorror ★ SilverFox

The day started typically enough, it was my first day off of three. I had just gotten up and was headed for my first cup of coffee and a cigarette.  

Fresh, hot, coffee! I can't think of a better way to start my day.  

The morning was lovely and the sun was already shining, so I decided to step out on my back porch and enjoy the fresh air. When I opened the door I was very surprised to see the skull of a dog, I believe, sitting on my bench looking straight at me.  

It was obvious that someone had placed it there intentionally. I really wasn't quite sure how to take this at first so I decided I needed to call my sister (she is a practicing witch) and ask her how she felt about it.  

Her first question was: “Does it have a gris bag attached?” I told her it didn't, and she told me that I really didn't have anything to worry about - it was probably just someone reaching out to me.  

I really wasn't sure about who had offered this to me, but I accepted it as a gift and decided to go about my business. 

I doubt I will ever know who really sent it, but I have never felt there was any ill-will attached.★

This true story was written by my wonderful mother aka SilverFox. SilverFox lives in Houston, Texas and she is a strong, sweet woman with wild hair, kind eyes and more magic in her blood than most. 

Although SilverFox is not a practicing Witch, it is apparent (to me) that she certainly could be if she wanted to. Some people have an easier walk with nature than others (and my mom and aunt are blessed with that gift).

SilverFox is not a "writer" (as she tells me often enough), but I was able to convince her to put this story down on paper for Wicked Shorts. This is the first time she's ever written a story, and I'm so proud of her!!!😍💜 

#100WordHorror ★ Marc Tizura

“But daddy, I am scared of the dog in the rain.” She told her father with eyes as wide as saucers.

“Sweetheart, look out the window and see there is no rain out there and no dog either; it was a dream.” The father assured her, kissing her forehead and guiding her back to her pillow.

“It said you’re going to Hell.” She claimed before drifting back to sleep.

The first drops of rain hit the windows, sounding like knocking on a coffin.  

A chill ran down him to his very soul. 

Outside, he thought he heard a dog growling.★

Marc Tizura is a published author. His debut novel was The Man from Grenin. 

He is also an actor and is the host of an awesome and always entertaining hashtag game on Twitter #tfteotw, which stands for "Tales From The End of The World". If ever you feel like playing, tune in to his YouTube channel and watch out for his weekly video prompts where he explains how to play.

Marc lives in Chicago, but don't worry, you can catch him on social media here:

Twitter (@areyouingrenin) 

Last but not least, don't forget to pop in and visit Marc's blog: MarcTizura.wordpress.com 

#100WordHorror ★ Justin A. Price

“What was that?” Audrey said.

I finished the trick and faced her. “I made a rabbit disappear. But it was fake. See?” I produced the rabbit from a compartment under the thrifted magician’s table, holding it by the scruff of its neck.

  

“No, what was that sound. That crackle when it disappeared. You didn’t hear that?”

I listened. 

“Nothing,” I started to say, but the rabbit cut me off. In hushed tones, it said, “I heard it too. It squeezed through the portal with me.”

Then the rabbit’s eyes widened to take in something behind me, and Audrey began to scream.★

Justin A. Price has toyed with the idea of writing since he was a little boy. Now, he's still toying with it, but at least he has a few doc files to show for the effort. 

He's lived in sunny Florida his entire life, though he's dying to move somewhere more dreary and destitute. Of course, if that happens, his wife and two children might just kill him.

Website: https://justinpricewrites.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/price875

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/deadman875/

Sam Markowitz loves his poodle.

He'd do anything for it.
Anything.

But Sam's neighbor is making it impossible to care for Trumbly. 

Bad move.

Follow Sam's descent into madness in this psychological thriller short story.