Today I'm sharing a horror flash fiction story. It came to me two nights ago, as most stories do, in the middle of the night. At 1:30 in the morning, I got up and opened my computer to write it down and
get it out of my head.
I don't usually post something this rough, with little time for editing and maybe another set of eyes
to take a look at it, but sometimes you have to take a chance and put something out there.
I think at some point, I'd like to turn this into a complete short story.
But I don't even have a title yet!! Do you have an idea? Leave a comment (and be entered into a drawing for a $10 Amazon Gift Card) with a title suggestion or if you liked the story or not.
The ad read:
Spacious apartment, rent free, one condition.
Housekeep for the well-known woman upstairs and tell no one.
My experience and excellent references secure me the position.
I'm used to the lavish parties. Gatherings of like-minded individuals eager to partake in the most savage and primal instincts of human nature. But summer has cooled to autumn and her Halloween gala is a dark extravaganza of ghoulish indulgence.
I toss and turn as the festivities rage on above my bedroom. Something's burning. Again. I've warned her this is dangerous, but she won't listen. At some point, the repetitive beat of The Time Warp
lulls me to sleep, drowning out the holiday screams and laughter.
The next morning, bleary-eyed and coffee in hand, I get to work. I scrub the stained carpet, scour the walls and bleach the kitchen and bathroom.
I wipe the sweat from my brow and shake my head. In all my years, one thing never changes. No matter how famous they become, how many headlines they make, serial killers are by far the messiest people to work for.
Please hop around to the other horror and paranormal authors
to see what creepy things they have in store for you.