Short Horror Stories

Pretty Little Things

Happy Halloween dearest Minions! To celebrate I'm posting one of the scariest stories I've ever written, at least in my opinion.

Stephen King says that he writes about what scares him, so that got me thinking. What do I find most terrifying of all? If you want to know what it is, read the story!

WARNING: This story is for mature audiences only. Contains extremely dark themes; violence, sexual situations (No graphic r*pe scene, don't worry, but definitely mature themes) and language. Reader discretion is advised.

Happy spooky reading everyone!

HRH

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Chance was the perfect boyfriend.

He brought her flowers regularly and took her out on carefully planned, romantic, expensive dates.

He liked to f*ck her rough.

He was driven and passionate. Some could say he was a bit of a workaholic, but all lawyers had to be. So he had a bit of a temper; that also came with the territory.

Beverly Vittoria had never met a man like Chance before and she was falling hard.

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Beverly awoke, alone in the dark.

She'd fallen asleep in Chance's arms, but she sensed at once that she was no longer in an unfamiliar bed. It was too hard, for one thing, and it smelled musty.

When she sat up her head immediately began to throb.

She hissed and braced her hands on her temples.

"Chance?" She called out softly. Her throat felt scrubbed raw like she'd been eating sandpaper sandwiches. "Honey?" She coughed and wheezed weakly as she struggled to stand. "What's going on?" She wondered, shuffling forward through the dark.

She reached out, stubbing her toes numerous times as she stumbled around in search of the wall. Once she found it she slid her hands along it from side-to-side until she found the light switch.

She flicked it on but nothing happened.

Damn.

Beside the switch she found a door and when she tried the handle it opened with a gentle creaking noise.

Dim light spilled across the threadbare threshold and Beverley ventured out into a corridor lit by built-in lanterns, shielded with red shades and framed with wrought iron.

The wallpaper on the wall was old and too faded to make out the pattern anymore, curling back as it was in places, but she thought it might be green.

"Hello?" She called out.

Beverly looked left down the hallway and saw a dead end. She looked right and saw a black door at the far end of the corridor.

It was cracked and a pale light streamed in all around the edges.

She tried to swallow but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

"Chance?" She croaked and began moving towards the door. It seemed like the only way she could go.

This felt so much like a nightmare but her body ached and throbbed in an all too real way.

She wanted to wake up more than anything, but deep down Beverly knew she wasn't going to. This strange, hellish place had just become her reality.

As she dragged her heavy body, she trailed her hand along the wall to keep herself steady. The wallpaper had a waxy quality to it.

When she happened to glance down at herself she saw that she was wearing an odd garment. Certainly nothing that she owned. It was a frilly off-white baby doll nightgown and something about the ribbons and lace made her skin crawl. She wanted to rip it off, but she didn't think being naked was really going to be that much better.