short horror stories

The Cycle

tw: self harm, murder, mentions of abuse.

As the sunset settled in the Nevada sky, my mother and I drove home after my evening doctor's appointment. The silence filled the car like smoke from a cigar as I looked out the passenger seat window. Only seconds had passed before we saw a woman sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, holding a sign with big bulky writing.

"I'm 23 and need to get to Chicago. Any help would be appreciated."

Mother started to pull the car over as I felt a pit in my stomach. She was young, looked somewhat attractive, and had a very put together look for a hitchhiker. There was just something about her that kind of worried me. As I got somewhat lost in the scenarios in my head, the car had pulled over and Mother started to reach over me to roll down my window.

"Mother, I really don't feel good about this." I said, stopping her hand. She paused, looking at me and then at the woman.

"Sweetheart, it's just a girl. You don't have to worry." She reassured, patting my hand, giving me a sweet smile before rolling down the window and waving the woman over. It only took a few minutes of conversation and an exchanging of names for her to get into the backseat of our car. If anything, the pit in my stomach felt heavier.

After a few minutes of silence the car became filled with sharpening sounds from the back seat. I could almost hear my heartbeat as I kept my eyes forward, terrified of what I might see. I looked up at the rear-view mirror to see the young woman sharpening a blade against a nail file. I froze in fear and kept staring, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.

"What are you looking at, sweets?" Mother asked giving me a confused look. I couldn't speak, it was like my voice had disappeared. I kept staring at the woman in the back who gave me a sinister smile as she put the knife out of my mother's sight.

"Say anything, she's dead." She leaned forward and whispered to me giving me another sickening smile, her face almost glistening in the moonlight. I put my head in my hands and began to let out choked sobs. Starting to silently pray, I felt the car pull over to the side of the road. I couldn't think of anything else other than the approaching death that I would face. The looming specter of death was a person and it was almost four feet behind me.

I looked up slightly to see a barren area of road, almost nothing around but a small gas station that looked to be miles away. I took some shaky breaths trying to stop my involuntary crying and looked at my mother who was gently rubbing my back. I knew the woman was going to kill us, but Mother seemed oblivious to her silent plan against us.

"She has a knife." I tried to mouth to her, but to no availability. The woman had moved to sit behind the driver's seat. Staring directly at me, she grabbed the seemingly spotless knife from the hiding space. I couldn't look at her anymore, we were going to die and it was all my fault.

"What did you say, darling? I couldn't hear y-" Mother was cut off by the woman covering her mouth with her hand, surprising her. The young woman slit her throat with the spotless knife, causing the crimson colored blood to drip down her neck as my mother's entire body went limp. Quickly unbuckling my seatbelt, the monstrous young woman grabbed onto my fishtail braided hair as she still held the head of my mother's lifeless body in her pale arms.

"I want you to watch. If you close your eyes at all, you're dead." She said giving me a creepy smile, pulling my hair to force me to look at the bloodied corpse of my mother. I screamed as the woman pushed the knife deeper and deeper into my mother's neck, causing blood to drip across mother's already disheveled blouse.

     Almost decapitating her, the woman kept pushing the knife deeper as she slightly smirked at me. If I looked away, I was dead. If I closed my eyes, I was dead. I could only scream, it was my only hope. The woman took the now blood dripping knife out of my mother's neck, letting blood drip down onto her forearms as she let go of my hair.