one shot horror stories

The stickman

It was dusk. The wind was blowing harshly aginst the brown wooden house. The windows painted with a orange glow from inside the house. In the house, there was a table plated with food and seated a family of four. A father, a mother, and two kids. As silverware clashed aginst the filled plates of food, conversation was non-exstitant. The door pounded. With food still in his mouth, the father stood up from his place at the table and walked over to the brown wooded door. As he turned the golden nob, the door screamed. The father leaned over and stuck his head out into the plethara of pine trees to see a tall unnatural creature. The creature was tall with legthy limbs, ebony head to toe, elongated jagged fingers, sharp jaw line, ghostly eyes, and a mouth similing back at him wih a findish smile. The lenghty beast slowly turned its head to the side and began quivering. The father slamed the door shut and walked towards family. Their eyes to the back of their head, and a think crimson liquid rand down from their eye soctes. The tense father looked back to the door to see the creacky door open and the inky demon looking back at him, its neck still twiching. Fear chocked him. The mother, and the two children rose from where they were sitting. Heads slowly turning toward him. The father smashed through a window to run to the bunker hoping to call 911. The mother, the beast, and the children just looked at him still smiling. The father ran though the thick leaves, wet leaves. The harsh wind blew like a torrent aginst him. He stumbled apon two rusted doors planted into the ground. He Then pulled the rusted doors and slaming them shut then locking them. The bunker was a cemented room with flickering lights above. The father hid in a corner brething heavily as the wind roaded outside. The father huddled in the cold dark corner saw the lenghty creature in the flickering lights. Around it was his wife and kids, heads shaking and smiling. Panic and fear straggled him as he stared at death in the eye. The mother and children walked slowy towards him with a crocked grin. Their heads soon began to rotate in a circle-

still smiling-

still wandering-

As they their arms began to twist in ways they shouldn't, limps breaking off, crunch craking bones echoed through the walls. The father he tried to run but his body wouldn't move, it wouldn't let him. His family coming a breath away from him. Dark, sticky, warm liquid splattered aginst the grey walls staining it...

The next week the family was reported missing a week later.

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