Stories for Halloween

The days grow shorter and pumpkins glow as Halloween draws near.

For those seeking some scares, we’ve put together Scary tales for the spooky season. From horror encounters to odd rituals, these short stories for Halloween will give you goosebumps.

Though quick reads, their vivid images will stick with you. We invite you to keep reading, but be prepared: these aren’t stories for the easily frightened.

Let their haunting words fill your imagination if you dare. This Halloween, curl up with these creepy Halloween stories, but you may want to leave some lights on.

Get ready for tingly spines and racing hearts with these frightening tales perfect for the holiday.

The Night Before My Death

It was October 31st, the night before Halloween. I was home alone, as my parents were out at a party. I decided to stay back, even though I loved Halloween. I was 17, after all, a bit too old for trick or treating.

The doorbell rang. I opened the door and there stood a creepy-looking clown, with white makeup and blood-red lips.

“Trick or treat!” he said.

“Aren’t you a bit old for this?” I asked.

He just stood there grinning. I shrugged and grabbed some candy from the bowl to give to him.

As I held out the candy he suddenly grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. I screamed and tried to pull away but couldn’t break free.

He yanked me outside into the night and dragged me down the street. I struggled with all my might but he was too strong.

“Let me go!” I yelled. He didn’t respond, just kept dragging me along towards a waiting van.

I knew if he got me in there I’d be done for. With one final burst of energy, I pulled away and broke free from his grasp.

I ran back towards my house but suddenly an evil-looking clown jumped out from the bushes. He was holding a bloody knife. I turned to run the other way but the first clown grabbed me from behind.

They dragged me into the van and tied me up. Inside were a half dozen more terrifying clowns, their faces painted with evil smiles. They cackled madly as the van drove off into the night.

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After what seemed like hours we came to a stop. They pulled me out of the van. We were at some old abandoned warehouse.

They dragged me inside and tied me to a chair. The clowns encircled me, grinning wickedly. They turned on ominous music and began dancing around.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, terrified.

“We want to play a game,” said the first clown.

He held up a revolver and spun the cylinder. “Let’s play Russian Roulette!”

The clowns laughed and cheered. The clown with the gun pressed the barrel to my forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself.

Click. Nothing happened. The clowns groaned, disappointed.

“My turn!” said another clown. He took the gun and spun the cylinder once more.

Click. I opened my eyes, relieved. But I knew my luck wouldn’t hold forever.

The clowns kept taking turns, spinning the cylinder and pulling the trigger while I sat there, helpless.

After the 6th clown’s turn, the first clown took the gun again. He pressed the cold steel barrel to my head.

“Looks like your time is up,” he said with an evil grin.

I thought of my family and closed my eyes. Click.

The clowns roared with excitement. The first clown aimed the gun again.

“Please, don’t do this,” I begged.

“Say goodbye,” he replied. I screamed as he pulled the trigger.

Bang! A loud gunshot rang out. Pain erupted in my head and everything went black.

I jolted awake in bed, gasping and sweating. Sunlight streamed through my windows.

It was just a nightmare. I took deep breaths to calm my racing heart. As I glanced at my phone I saw the date: November 1st.

It was the day after Halloween. I had made it through the night before my death, though just barely.

The End.

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Short Stories For Halloween

The Dead Woman

The night was dark and stormy. John shivered as he walked down the long, winding road towards his house. He couldn’t wait to get inside where it was warm and safe.

As he approached his front door, he noticed it was ajar. That’s strange, he thought. I’m sure I locked it when I left. Cautiously, he opened the door.

“Hello?” He called out nervously. “Is anyone there?”

No answer. He stepped inside and shut the door. The house was quiet, but something felt off. He flipped on the lights in the living room and jumped.

There was a woman sitting on his couch, staring at him with cold, dead eyes. She looked pale and disheveled, with dark rings under her eyes.

“Who are you?” John asked, terror, rising within him. “What are you doing in my house?”

The woman continued to stare, unmoving. John’s heart pounded. He took a step back. “Look, I’m going to call the police if you don’t leave immediately.”

Still no response. He moved slowly towards the phone on the coffee table, keeping his eyes on the woman.

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As he went to pick up the receiver, the woman suddenly launched herself off the couch with startling speed. John cried out as she grabbed his arm, her grip ice cold.

“You can’t hide from me,” she rasped. “I’ll always find you.”

John tore himself from her grasp and sprinted for the front door. He could hear her shuffling footsteps right behind him. He managed to get outside and slammed the door shut.

He fumbled for his keys and locked it just as the woman crashed against it. John stumbled backwards, breathing heavily. He could hear her scratching and pounding on the other side.

“Let me in!” She wailed. “Don’t leave me out here alone!”

John fled from the front porch out into the stormy night. His car was parked on the street. He jumped in and peeled out, speeding down the road.

As he drove, he glanced back at his house in the rearview mirror. Was that a face peering out of his living room window? No, it couldn’t be. He was just seeing things.

Shaken, John decided to get as far away from home as possible. He drove all night until he reached the next town over.

Exhausted, he pulled into a roadside motel. “One room please,” he asked the clerk at the front desk.

“Sorry sir, we’re all full up,” the clerk replied. “There’s another motel just down the road that probably has vacancies.”

John nodded and got back in his car. The other motel looked run down, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

He went to the front office to get a room. As he rang the bell, a woman emerged from the back room. John’s heart nearly stopped. It was her. The same dead-eyed woman from his house.

“You’ll never escape me,” she sneered. “I told you, I’ll always find you.”

John screamed as she reached out her cold, pale hands towards him…

John scrambled backward, looking around frantically for an escape. He felt the woman’s icy fingers grasping at his shirt.

Just as she was about to make contact, a loud bang sounded from outside. The woman froze, then fell to the floor with a thud.

John stared in shock at the motionless body. Behind her stood the motel clerk, holding a smoking shotgun.

“You alright there, sir?” the clerk asked.

“I…I think so,” John stammered. “What happened? Who is that woman?”

The clerk sighed. “That’s Maggie. She used to work here years ago before she passed away. Now she haunts this place, scaring off customers. I’ve tried everything to get rid of her spirit, but she always comes back.”

John shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t understand. She was just at my house across town! How could she be here too?”

The clerk frowned. “Well that’s mighty strange. Maggie never leaves the motel as far as I know. Are you sure it was her?”

John looked down at the body. The woman’s features seemed to be shifting, her face no longer a perfect match for the one etched in his memory.

A chill went down John’s spine. “I’m not sure of anything anymore,” he whispered.

The clerk nodded solemnly. “I reckon you’d better sit down for spell. I’ll make us some coffee and try to make sense of all this.”

John sank into a chair, more confused than ever. He had a feeling this was going to be a long night. At least the danger seemed to have passed, for now. But something told him this might just be the beginning of a long nightmare.

The End.