Scary stories I wrote

The Haunting of Midnight Carnival

The old carnival had stood on the outskirts of town for decades, abandoned and rotting away. Once a place of laughter and wonder, it had become an eerie, twisted relic of its former glory. The rusted ferris wheel loomed over the dead field, motionless by day but surrounded by whispers of strange happenings after dark.

Lily had always been fascinated by the stories. As a child, she'd heard tales of the carnival being haunted by the spirits of those who had died in a tragic accident years ago. She didn't believe in ghosts, but the lure of the forbidden was too strong. Now, as an adult, curiosity got the best of her. Armed with nothing but a flashlight and her courage, she ventured out one evening to see the place for herself.

The gates groaned as she pushed them open. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of decay. Rusted metal and weathered wood creaked with every gust of wind. The carnival felt dead in every sense-silent, still, and forgotten.

But as the sun dipped below the horizon, something changed.

The carousel, once frozen in time, began to creak. Lily's heart jumped in her chest as she turned to face it. The chipped horses, with their hollow, cracked eyes, started to move. Slowly at first, then faster. She could hear the distant, ghostly music-a faint echo of the carnival's past. It wasn't coming from any speakers; it was coming from the very walls of the place, as if the ground beneath her feet hummed with the sound.

She backed away, but the ferris wheel, long thought inoperable, groaned to life. The rusty machinery, with parts hanging by threads of corroded metal, began to turn. It was then she saw them-figures inside the seats, ghostly silhouettes swaying with the wheel's motion. Faces pale and twisted, their eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

Lily stumbled, her breath coming in panicked gasps. She turned to run, but the funhouse lights flickered on, casting long, warped shadows across the ground. Its doors flung open, revealing a gaping darkness within, beckoning her inside. Laughter, high-pitched and maniacal, spilled from the entrance.

Desperately, she tried to leave the way she came, but the gate had closed on its own. Chains rattled as if pulled by invisible hands, locking her in. Her flashlight flickered and died.

The rollercoaster rattled, its broken tracks now seeming alive, vibrating with a horrible energy. She heard the screams of riders long lost to time. The cars, once unmoving, now hurtled along the rails, filled with transparent forms that howled in torment. They were the spirits-the vengeful souls trapped here, forever reliving the night the carnival collapsed under its own weight, killing dozens in a chaotic disaster.

Suddenly, something cold brushed her arm. She turned to see a figure-a carnival worker, his face twisted into an unnatural smile, his uniform stained with blood. His voice was a guttural rasp as he spoke, "They never leave, and neither will you."

The rides, now alive with a malicious force, creaked louder, faster. The entire carnival seemed to pulse with the spirits' anger, their rage at being forgotten. The ground beneath her feet trembled. And then she felt it-hands, unseen but solid, grabbing her, dragging her toward the funhouse.

She screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the eerie carnival music and the rising cacophony of tortured souls. The last thing she saw before the darkness closed in was the twisted grin of the carnival worker, watching her disappear into the void.

By morning, the carnival was still again, silent and lifeless as if nothing had stirred. But the gates remained chained, and Lily was never seen again.

The town kept its distance after that night, for those who wandered too close swore they could still hear the faint echo of carnival music, and sometimes, if the wind was just right, the desperate screams of the lost.

Word count not including this: 660