She heard a strange noise in the attic. When she went up to check, a cold hand grabbed her ankle.
I woke up in the middle of the night. There was a figure at the end of my bed, just staring at me with empty eyes.
I woke up to find a cold hand on my shoulder, but I live alone. Every night since then, I feel that same touch. It seems like something is lurking in the darkness of my room, just waiting for the right moment to fully reveal itself. I'm constantly on edge, jumping at every little noise, fearing that it might be the thing that touched me getting closer.
The old doll in the attic blinked. Now it sits on my bed.
The old doll in the attic blinked as I walked past. It was the first time I noticed it had eyes.
I found a diary in the basement. The last entry said 'They're coming for me tonight' and the date was yesterday.
The power went out. I lit a candle and saw a face in the window. It was my own reflection, but I was standing across the room.
She heard a scratching at the door. The dog refused to go near it. Then the scratching stopped, and something whispered her name.
My shadow had a life of its own today.
These short horror stories work by leaving a lot to the imagination. For example, 'The door creaked open. A figure stood in the doorway, its face hidden.' It makes you wonder who or what that figure is, and your mind starts to fill in the blanks with all kinds of scary possibilities. This engages your fear response immediately.
The old doll in the corner moved. Its eyes followed me as I walked across the room.
The old house on the hill was empty for years. One night, a light flickered in the attic, and a shadowy figure peered out the window.