Short stories

Prompt 1

Write a horror story using the following three elements: popcorn kernels, scented candles, and a copy of Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet".

I was stuck in this house for an hour now. I had no recollection of events that had lead up to me being here, just darkness and a large pain in the back of my head. I had spent some time trying to opened the locked front door, clues to escape in the lounge, and tried to check out upstairs, but it was blocked by a criss-cross of wooden beams. But now I was growing hungry, so I decided to check out the kitchen, and hopefully find some food.

I knew where it was, just through a door in the lounge. What had deterred me from entering was the red substance that had coated the edge of the door. It had a strange smell, not one I could remember smelling before. If I had to describe it, think of the most beautiful and fragrant flower in the whole world, and put it in the middle of a trash heap. It smelled like contrast, irony, something was going to change quickly.

The substance acted like a glue, preventing me from easily opening the door. However, there were two things on my side. Evergrowing hunger, and evergrowing curiosity, both of which would be satisfied if i entered this room. I pushed and pulled on the handle, and after what felt like an eternity, the door became unstuck, opening suddenly and my own strengh propelling me into the room.

I was in awe. The rest of the house, sprorting an abanonded, haunted theme, was greatily different than this room. There were candles lit in the corners of the room, filling the air with the strange smell that had coated the doorframe. Candle wax. So thats what that was.What a strange way to block of a door, locking it would have been much easier.

The candles had caused a peaceful, romantic glow around the room, and I almost forgot my original plan. I found the fridge, and opened it to just a bag. My curiosity was fueled, causing an even bigger inferno in me. I took it out, showing it to be a bag of popcorn kernals. Why? Out of all things? Was it a trick? If I did something with these kernals, would I be set free? Was this all just a test? My eyes drifted to the candle closest to me, in the corner. I glanced from the bag to the candle, an idea forming.

I put the bag over the candle, and sat down at the table in the center of the room, watching the bag inflate, and the popping sounds as the kernals made popcorn. I was still confused about this. What use was there in dragging me from my home, to this place just to make a bag of popcorn? Fortunately, I didn't have to wait for an anwser. Unfortunately, I never got one.

My eyes had drifted to some papers I hadn't noticed on the table, so the loud bang scared me almost to death. I swirled round to see the exploded bag, popcorn covering the floor and counter, and the flame of the candle growing intenser, and flaring a bright red.

I stumbled back, shocked and afraid. Around me, each of the candles reacted in the same way, filling the room with heat, and the burning colour of red.It was like being in an oven, or a volcano. I stumbled over too the door, but it wouldn't open. My vision was swirling, the air shimmering from the heat. I noticed too late the counter setting alight, and passing to the wooden door. I cried out in pain as my hand was burnt, and I fell back against the table.

My chest was burning. All the fire in the room was causing a ton of toxic, black smoke, and I couldn't breathe. I wiped the sweat from my eyes, and noticed the paper on the table. With slow, shaking hands I reached out, wanting to at least know what the hell was happening, why I was here, who had brought me, what had I done to deserve this? Smoke was quickly filling the room, so I squinted at the paper to read at least the title.

It was the script for Romeo and Juliet.

That did nothing. It answered nothing.Scented candles, a bag of popcorn kernals and a script of Romeo and Juliet. What did that mean? Nothing. Thats what it meant. It was also the amount of answers I had recieved and the reasons I could think of for deserving this fate.

My vision was turning black, though I couldn't tell if it was from the smoke, or my eyes giving up. I threw down the papers into the flames, wanting at least the gratitude of watching it burn away. And it definately helped, watching the tale of two lovers curl up and melt. I was smiling. And I kept smiling at the flames greedily consuming the table, my clothes and finally my body.