Short Scary Stories

Undead Death

   When my daughter, Quinn Kinsley, was 15, she died a very tragic death involving knives. This was 5 years ago, on her 15th birthday. She would be 20 today.
   My husband, Andrew, and I sat on our couch, laughing and watching a movie, our phone rang. I grabbed it, and put it on speaker.
  "Hello? Who is this?" Andrew said, making me jump.
  "Hi mommy, hi daddy!" My blood ran cold. Quinn's voice. Andrew and I looked at each other, thinking the same thing. Impossible.
  "Open the front door and let me in mommy. I've missed you guys so so SO much!!" Quinn said in a childish, mocking voice.
  5 years ago, my husband and I stabbed Quinn 30 times. Double the amount of years we had to put up with her.
   "T-that's not p-possible! You're dead! In the g-ground!" I cried, staring at the door. A slim figure stood at the door, dressed in dark colors.
  "Open the door mommy!" Quinn screamed. The noise was horrifying, like a banshee screech.
  I jumped up, but Andrew grabbed my wrist and pulled me down. He stood, and stalked over to the door, wrenching the door open. Quinn stood there, one hand behind her back, the other hanging up the phone.
  "Night night!" She pulled a knife out from behind her, and stabbed Andrew 20 times in the head, 20 in the heart. The way we had killed her.
   She walked over to me, a sinister grin on her bloody face. Her arms dripped blood onto the floor, the knife raised in her hand.
  "Night night." Quinn giggled and brought the knife down. Searing pain exploded through me. I fell to the ground, and blackness over took me...