Halloween Flash Contest

[James]

HALLOWEEN FLASH CONTEST

It came up in Inklings that we should have a Halloween writing contest. We're going to keep the rules very simple:

- The deadline is at the end of 31 October;
- This is a flash fiction contest, so the word limit is 1,000 words or under;
- It's Halloween, so make your stories spoooooooky.
- The winner will decided by popular vote after the deadline.

Nice and simple, right? So post your stories in this thread before the deadline!

[Kaez]

Please read this.

We don’t know if you’ll believe us. You were always so intelligent, such a skeptic about things, always being critical of anything that didn’t have real proof. We told them that when they explained this approach but we’re out of options, so here we are. Please read this.

We’ve tried so many times to get through to you, to communicate, but they’re not working. We just hope you’re getting these messages. Just that you’re seeing them at all, that you’re there somewhere and that we can reach out to you would mean so much to us – but we haven’t seen any signs so far and we miss you so much.

We’re all just hoping and praying that you see this and that you read it and that you remember something – some little spark, some distant, vague memory of us. Please try to remember. Try to remember something that’s so far back in your mind. Try to remember when you were in a different place than you are now. Try to remember us, please. We remember you.

We love you so much. We miss you so much.

We just want you to come back to us.

If you’re reading this right now – please, listen. You were in an accident on your way home from work in October of 2017. At the hospital you had to be put into a medically induced coma. When we sent this message it had been nine years since the accident, but we don’t know when you’re receiving it. We don’t know what world you’re in, what experiences you’re having. We don’t know how or where you’re reading this. The doctors just tell us that you’re still in there – that they can see brain activity. You’re alive, but you’re asleep, and something is blocking you from waking up. Nobody seems to understand.

They told us we might be able to get this message through to you. That somewhere in there you might still be taking in sensory information. If you’re reading this, we love you. We miss you. If nothing else, even if you can’t believe this, even if you read this and never think of it again and stay dreaming, even if we never get to see you again… know that we love you so much. And that you’re always in our hearts. All we hope is that whatever world is in your head, whatever experiences you're having, that they aren't painful. That you're in a good place. If I'm honest, there's a part of me that hopes you don't know that you're dreaming, that you don't have to live each day in pain, trying to wake up. But my heart has been broken each day that you've been gone. I just miss you so much. We all do.

Do you remember us?

Please wake up.

[James]

Overheard in a Pub in Waihi
Look, mate. I need to tell you something. And you’ve got to promise that you’ll let me finish. Don’t tell me to calm down; don’t tell me it’s all in my head. I just need to tell someone, because I haven’t told her. I haven’t told her about the photos and it’s eating me up inside.

You know how I’ve always said I wanted to get out to Karangahake Gorge? I don’t know why. It’s just a cool place. It’s like, everywhere in New Zealand, all the mountains and valleys, they’ve been scarred by us. By people. But the Gorge is different. Sure, the cliff faces and streams are nice, but it’s only cool to look at because of those suspension bridges and shit. It’s like the only place we haven’t fucked up. I thought I’d take the camera down and get some photos. Claire and I spent hours down there. Had a picnic. Felt like I was going to chew through a whole memory card. It was pretty much the perfect day, until we got to the tunnel.

You know how online, you’ll see all those photos of it all well-lit? Like, you can see all the bricks? Honestly, Steve, I’m not sure anyone has ever found it like that. When we arrived at the tunnel’s mouth, there were some lights on, dotted along the roof, but most had probably been dead for weeks. Just a kilometre of darkness, man. Claire wouldn’t have agreed to go through it, except we had to walk back the whole way to the car if we didn’t.

Nothing ever really gets under my skin, but honestly, it scared me. While we were under a lightbulb, it was okay. The orange glow was creepy, but you could see the graffiti on the bricks, and it’s hard to be frightened when Stella’s unique skills are being discussed on the walls. But as soon as we walked on, it was like walking in the night sky. The walls disappeared. You couldn’t even see the ground. The only thing we had going for us was a pinprick of light in the distance, and another growing smaller behind us. I’m not exaggerating, man. Like, if you didn’t walk in a straight line, you’d probably get confused which way was forward and which was back. I wouldn’t be surprised if people frequently end up coming out the same end they went in.

Once we’re about halfway down, I decided I wanted to grab a few photos. I thought it would be pretty cool, right? Blindly, I sort out my tripod, screw the camera on and throw out the exposure for like a minute. I took four or five photos. It was cool not even knowing how they were going to come out. Claire was complaining, wanting to leave and I don’t blame her, really. It felt weird. Like, I’d be standing there, ready for the shot to end and I could feel something behind me. A breath on my neck. I knew it was all in my head, so I told myself I shouldn’t look. I made myself stand there, said I’d be an idiot if I turned to check.

Then Claire screams. She properly freaks out. I nearly knock over the camera in fright, but I can’t actually go and comfort her because I can’t even see her in the dark, right? Instead I call out, tell her to stay calm. She basically tells me to fuck myself. Apparently, she thinks I’m licking her hand. Like, what the fuck? So, I pick up the camera and we get out of that tunnel as quick as we can. We barely talk on the way home.

The thing is… I checked those photos the next day. There was something with us in the tunnel. It was like a man, but poorly drawn. His lips curved all the way around to his ears. He didn’t have a nose. And his hair came down over his eyes. He was wearing overalls, I think. Like a miner. Steve, in one photo, he’s smiling. Christ, his jaw comes down past his neck. Every time I close my eyes now, I see that fucking smile. Then there’s the photo where his face is right in front of the camera. I loaded it up on my computer and all I could see was this fucking, misshapen face staring back at me. His eyes were stitched shut. But as soon as I opened it, I felt he was in the room behind me. I looked over my shoulder. I thought something moved.

It’s that last photo, though. The man. Fuck. He’s… he’s on his hands and knees like he’s some fucking dog. And, God, he’s licking Claire’s hand. Actually licking it. This long, thick tongue pressed against her skin. Fuck, Steve, what is he doing? He’s just licking it, and looking up at her. Fuck, man. I deleted them all. Off the computer. Off the camera. I couldn’t even use the bloody thing again. I sold it. I can barely check my emails without thinking about that face. Whenever I sit at the computer, I’m always looking toward the door.

And fuck, Steve. That’s not the worst of it. I took a photo of Claire the day after. Used my phone. Said I was doing it for a laugh. Her hand was fucking black. It’s like it’s dead. Decayed. And now, I can’t stop taking photos of her, and with each week, the inkiness only gets bigger. It’s up to her shoulder now. Jesus, Steve, what do I do?

I haven’t even told her.

[Jenny (Reffy)]

You Do It!

“You do it!” Michelle shoved Jess closer.

“No, you!” Jess wasn’t having any of it and pushed back, although her pink fluffy socks slid across the blue tiled floor during the effort, “I’m scared!”

They’d already squabbled for nearly thirty minutes over who should play the game and it was driving me batty. I was only willing to wait so long in the cold bathroom for one of them to find their big girl pants. “Shut up,” I finally snapped. “I’ll do it! Bunch of wussies.”

That worked because they moved behind me to look in the mirror as I did it. Besides, it was my sleep-over and it was a stupid old wives’ tale anyway. I should be the one to do it and prove I was braver than them. I wanted to get back to the horror movies anyway. This had been Michelle’s suggestion and Jess had jumped on the bandwagon swiftly.

“Should we turn the lights out?” Jess whispered in my ear.

“I think you need to for it to work,” Michelle piped in, taking the two steps required to flick the switch as the room plunged into darkness.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the new light level as everything looked washed in an eerie grey to deep blue. I was transfixed on the taps of the sink which were gleaming in the dark. Without realising my hands had gripped the sink and were starting to get cold. I let go and rubbed them together to warm up. Jess and Michelle were giggling still, which was all the more irritating! I can see them, us, in the reflection of the mirror.

“Bloody Mary,” I whispered, my breath clouding before me. It was three am; the heating had clicked off already. Why was I reassuring myself? I know nothing will happen. Both girls had stopped giggling to spectate. “Bloody Mary,” nothing will happen. “Bloody Mary!” I said, loud and defiantly, squeezing eyes shut in the moment.

When I opened my eyes I could see Jess and Michelle laughing and moving around as they did. Both seemed relieved that nothing had happened, which I knew would be the case! But as I opened my mouth to point that out I noticed my reflection didn’t move.

“Come on. Let’s go back to the horror films,” I spoke.

The reflection, my reflection, spoke but it wasn’t me! She was wearing the same pyjamas as me, with the bananas in night-hats, and had the same blonde curvy hair but it wasn’t me! A spike of panic exploded in my guts. I had to warn them! I had to do something! Whoever that was, it wasn’t me! I tried to shout again but no words came out! My reflection did nothing but smirk as it looked me in the eyes.

I tried to reach out, smash the mirror and get my friends attention, when I realised they weren’t beside me. I froze as the realisation locked into place. I wasn’t out there with the mirror. I was in here. I was in the mirror. Shaking I dared to turn around and found nothing but blackness; my only source of anything visual the blue tiled bathroom through the mirror.

Desperation hooked into me like a butcher’s knife. I didn’t want to be left in here! And who was that in my body? I tried to scream for them to play the game again so I could get out but there were no words, no air, and no ability to reach them. I watched as they left the room, still giggling, to go back to Hellraiser and the popcorn. My popcorn.

How long before somebody else finds the nerve to play the game again?

[Ad Absurdum]

(redacted)

[The Counter Cultist(Sawyer)]

Ben Harris knocked on the door, although he did so almost a little too gently. No matter however, it was more than enough to push the door open.

“Umm, Mr. Gavin?” He called out, voice a little shaky “Are you home?” No answer. Ben looked back to his big brother George and shrugged.

“Just go in there Benji!” George said. “Find the ball, and leave a note, or see if he’s home.” Ben didn’t want to go into Mr. Gavin’s home. The owner of the antique shop owned the largest(and scariest) home on the block. Ben couldn’t begin to imagine how he would find one baseball in that maze. But still, he wanted to find that ball(their only one) and he wanted to apologize to Mr. Gavin for breaking his window. Creepy his house may have been, Mr. Gavin was always nice to the kids if they were forced into his shop by various mothers and fathers.

So he ventured in. The ball had gone through one of the side windows, adjacent to his house. Ben made for the left and entered a hallway. Empty and dark, no windows.

“Ummm, Mr. Gavin?” Ben yelled out. “Me and George are sorry for breaking your window.” Still, no response. Ben ventured down the hallway a little farther to the door at the end. Slowly, he opened the door and stepped inside the room.

Inside was a small collection of things. Ben thought they looked like some of the stuff Mr. Gavin sold in his shop. Old furniture and little knick knacks. Maybe his personal collection? Ben looked around and saw the shattered window. He looked around the floor to try and find the ball but no sign.

“Psst!” Ben jumped and looked around. Someone had spoken up, but he couldn’t see them anywhere.

“The mirror to your left,” Ben looked around, and his eyes fell on the mirror in question. Instead of his reflection was a man in a suit. Holding out a baseball.

“Fell into here kid. All you gotta do is just reach in and take it.” The man held the ball out for Ben to grab. Ben didn’t think, he just reached out for it. The man took on a smile, a pretty creepy one.

"Who are you?" Ben asked. "Where's Mr. Gavin?"

"I'm here Benji." Mr. Gavin appeared behind the man, putting on that trademark smile. "I fell in on accident last night, but boy am I glad I did. There's more than just baseballs here Benji, there's ice cream everywhere, and no homework or even school!" Benji shifted his head a little as Mr. Gavin spoke, stepping closer to the mirror. Wherever he was it sounded wonderful. He wanted to go. Slowly he stuck his hand out, to grasp the baseball. He at least had to get that back out to George, but he would come right back and see this new place for himself.

“That’s it," the stranger purred, "take it." Ben nearly reached the ball, his hands just barely scraping the surface of the mirror. Finally he plunged it in.

Then, Little Benji Harris screamed, as the mirror pulled him in and the thing inside slowly devoured him.

[J.O.N ((Dragonwing))]

The Price

The room was dark and cold, we had no wood for the fire.

It had been a night and a day since our parents had died. It began when the old man knocked at our door late in the night. Father had answered it and at first their conversation was soft and muffled but quickly my father grew angry and began shouting, driving the man away. He told mother that they wanted my baby brother, he said that they would not have him but mother grew scared and told him that they would get him anyway.

Nothing happened after that. Not for another few nights. Then one day a friend of father’s came to our door. When mother answered she broke down, her wails echoing down the muddy streets outside. Father had been buried under the ruins of a building he was scavenging in. That night I made a stew with the little food we had, mother did not eat with us, she just stayed in her room. When I went to check on her, she had resigned her self to the corner, her face ashen and eyes wide. She told me of the whispers in her mind, the scratching under the floor boards and that -they- had taken him. That -they- would come for her soon.

All night my siblings and I huddled in the corner of the house. The twins quite and shivering as we held my little brother between us. Under the floor we heard the scratching and loud squeaks of rats, moving around beneath us. The wind made strange noises as it blew down through the chimney, like voices decrying misfortune. From my mothers room I could here sobs and her voice crying for it all to stop. Only as dawn began to rise did I manage to close my eyes.

The next day we found my mother hanging from the tree outside.

Now we are hungry. I dare not go outside, I can hear them scampering about. The adults never told us about them, but we knew. Every child knew not to go down into the sewers or stay out too late at night. The rats hid away from us, but they were always ready to snatch us. But we also knew that the adults relied on the rats. When the man came to our house that night, I knew it was because of my father. They must have helped him bring home food for us, and they wanted their payment.

They wanted my baby brother.

The candle, the only source of light we had, flicked shadows around the room. Behind me the twins slept, they had been angry that there had been no food. Outside the wind seemed to howl, and I pretended it was tree branches that tapped at the window panes. I didn’t realise I had been humming an old nursery rhyme until there was a loud thud at the door. I looked up and it repeated.

My stomach hurt bad. I looked down at the baby in my arms and saw his skin white, face sullen. He felt as light as a feather, wasting away before me. Was it wrong to give him up? Surely they weren’t going to kill or eat him? What if they did? He would die anyway, but… we wouldn’t die. They might start giving us food again.

Standing up I tread quietly so not to wake the twins and made my way to the door. I wrapped my brother snugly in the cloth around him as I stepped out into the bitterly cold night air. I made sure not to look at the large hunched shadows that scattered from the light from within. Instead I gently placed my brother on the doorstep. The shadows began to hop back and forth, dancing in excitement. Stepping back through in to the house, the door slammed shut in my face.

There was a brief sound of a baby crying, silenced by chattering rats and then just the sound of wind. I slowly pushed the door opened, and found the doorstep empty. I don’t know if I would ever forgive myself for what I did. But we never went cold or hungry again.

[Injin]

Smoke filled the room.

Two young men, dressed as Simon Belmont and Dracula respectively, puffed as they meandered their blunts from their mouths.

“Dude?”

“Yeah Dude?”

“Have I bitten you yet?”

“Considering how we’re dressed, that’d be pretty weird. But cool. But weird.”

There was silence between the two of them as they took another drag, coughing as their behaviors mirrored each other.

“Why would you bite me, man?” Dracula said, inhaling deep and coughing in a violent sputter.

“I dunno. Hungry. You ever see me eat?”

“Nah man,” Dracula said, his mouth twitching, a small cough/hiccup shuddering his head.

“Like. I’m you.”

“What?”

“No, really man. I’m like you. Totally.”

“I’m me. Are you not you?”

“I’m Simon Belmont.”

“Dude, just for tonight.”

“but I’m also you.”

“What?”

“I’m Dracula AND Simon Belmont.”

“What?”

“Like. A vampire, man. I lick blood out of spoons normally, but I’m jonesing for some of the good stuff.”

“What?”

“Dude.”

“What?” Dracula asked again, giggling, “What was in those cookies we ate earlier?”

“You mean you ate earlier.”

“Right, you had-“

“The cake, yeah. Sponge cake with so much green frosting inside of it.”

“That wasn’t pot?”

“It totally was, man. Not pot.”

“What was it?”

“Spinach. Creamed Spinach.”

“What?”

“That shit was terrible. I can’t eat the solid type of shit. I’m hungry.”

Dracula and Simon Belmont stared at each other for a full minute before Simon Belmont spoke again. “So…?”

“What? Dude, what’s chill?” Dracula said, rubbing an ice cube on his forehead.

“Wait, my dude, where did you get that?”

“Man, I don’t know,” Dracula said, taking a sip of water.

“What was I talking about?”

“You had the munchies?”

“Oh, right,” Simon Belmont said, scooching closer to Dracula.

“I’m not into you like that. At least, I don’t think so? Did we make out the last time we got high? Again? I thought you said not to-”

“Relax, chill. Give that ice cube a break and take another hit.” With that, Simon Belmont was flush with Dracula, a glint in his eye that Dracula’s own eyes reflected in the pale light of the room.

“Uhh…?”

“You aren’t using that neck right now. Right?”

“I think I’m using it, but I dunno.”

“Whoa, really?” Simon Belmont scooted away a little, before that glint returned. “but I’m hungry man. Can’t I borrow it for a sec?”

“I’m not really sure you CAN borrow it. Isn’t it, like, attached to me?”

“Right, right.”

The din of the room curled into a ball in Simon Belmont’s stomach as his eyes twitched and bulged, his mouth briefly opening before his eyes widened.

“Dude. Look into my eyes.”

“That’s gay.”

“No one has to know that you looked into my eyes. No homo sapiens.”

“What?”

“Dude how are you higher than I am? You’ve had, what, two blunts so far?”

“And those bomb ass brownies.”

“I totally forgot. Did Brad make those?”

“Working on a culinary degree, he can cook anything. Except for Meth.”

“Brad tried to make Meth?”

“Nah, he-“

“Just look into my eyes and, god I’m too high for this, uh. Please.”

“No gay stuff.”

“I promise. Into. My eyes, man.”

Dracula stared into those eyes and was enraptured by what he saw inside. “Holy fuck, man. You have. Like. The bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Wow.”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Simon Belmont said as he scooted close again, waving slowly in front of Dracula’s eyes and finally smiled. Licking his teeth slowly, he tensed up and cursed silently when it rubbed against his canines.

“So blue. Like. Blue Mountain Cloud Pussy.”

Simon Belmont stopped. “What?”

“That shit we smoked at RJ’s party.”

“THAT’S what it was called?”

“Fuck yeah it was. So fucking blue, man. Better than this shit.”

“Damn…”

Leaning forward, Simon Belmont bit hard into Dracula’s neck, sucking some of his blood into his mouth, bruising the skin.

“Ow!” Dracula said, shoving Simon Belmont off of him, “The hell, man! I said no gay stuff.”

“Come on. Just a little homo, just enough to sate my thirst. I’m mighty thirsty for some homo bloodsucking.”

“Ew. Dude, no,” Dracula said, clutching his neck, “I. I don’t feel so good. Blood’s not stopping.”

“Hahaha, man let me lap that shit up.”

“No, fuck you. I’m. Ow, I’m calling the police.”

“Come on, let me suck it. Please!”

Simon Belmont leapt on top of Dracula, feebly lapping at the blood, before Dracula managed to shove him off and run out of the room.

---

Florida Man Who Says He’s A Vampire Charged with Assaulting Fraternity Brother

Fourth Time Charged with Crimes Related to Vampirism

[James]

And time's up! Seven entries is definitely a good turnout for this little competition.

Okay, so for judging, here is how it's going to work. In this thread, you post the following:

3 Points - [Favourite Story] - A few sentences review
2 Points - [Second Favourite] - A few sentences review
1 Point - [Third Favourite] - A few sentences review

Everyone posts that in the next few days and then we'll add them up. Get scoring and reviewing!

[James]

I guess I'll end up reviewing first.

First Place (3 points): Ad
For me, you take out the win just on the subject of quality. It's not particularly scary, but the imagery is unsettling and it's extremely well-written. There are a few lines that left me wanting more or felt awkward, but on the whole, you wrote a string of quality descriptions packaged in a story that were enough to carried you over the line.

Second Place (2 points): Jason
I did seriously consider giving you the 3 points. To me, you wrote the most interesting story. Whereas Pete or Sam wrote ideas, and Reffy and Sawyer wrote Halloween ghost stories, yours felt distinct. I really liked that. I know it's flash fiction, but I did just want a little more pop in the language, though. I wanted to feel the desperation more; the horror of finding a mother hanging by the tree. But I liked this one.

Third Place (1 point): Pete
So, this was a tough one to judge. It was well-written. It was a neat idea. It's pretty spooky. It's good. But, the thing is, you've essentially taken a really cool creepypasta and made it just a little bit -less- effective. That creepypasta works because it's written in such a way that it's a slow realisation that it's telling you to wake up. It's really hidden that you're in a coma and you need to wake up. Whereas, in your story, it's really obvious straight away that the reader, you, are being told to wake up by their loved ones.


Honourable Mentions:
Sawyer and Reffy, I liked both of your stories. They were well-written, spooky stories. Sawyer, in particular, I could relate to the experience of going next door, to some unknown property, to reclaim a lost ball. That was cool. However, they both just lacked the distinct feel of the above three stories. Great work, though.

Injin. Injin. I nearly gave you third place. I did give you third place, actually. But then I felt that was unfair on the others. Your story is a genuine hot mess, but it made me laugh at least twice, and I felt like I was laughing with you. So, you know, you wrote a comedy and I didn't hate it. That's a win, right there.

[Kaez]

First Place (3 Points): Jason

It was good.

I liked it.

Your writing this past year has really been miles better than what it used to be. You build the tension – first the threat is kind of abstract, but there’s a sense of protection. But then the protection goes away. Then everything goes away. Then desperation sets in… and the real horror becomes a moral one. One that doesn’t just happen at once, but one that you’ve got to live with. The horror of knowing what you’ve done. Your protagonist, who we sympathize with, is the agent of the terrible act – or is it even terrible? Far more depth in this entry than any other entry and unquestionably the best of the competition IMO.

Second Place (2 Points): Reffy

I think the writing left a bit to be desired, with the sort of simple restatements of the events with lots of exclamation points – I think you could’ve used your prose to build more tension and up the horror element. But I really love the premise here – the slow realization going from ‘the mirror is haunted’ to ‘I’m in the mirror’ is very scary, and being stuck in there until someone plays it again is doubling down on that. Well done.

Third Place (1 Point): Sam

Your prose is beautiful, but it felt a bit like one of those gorgeous cakes that, turns out, was all sculpted out of fondant, so even though it’s beautiful, there’s not much worth eating. The first half uses a slightly strange manner of speech, leaving out prepositions and articles, but that mostly goes away in the second half as without clear reason as it arrived. The premise behind it all being that demons really just want to speed up entropy, not torture you? If anything that’s a less-scary spin on traditional possession. Why choose that route? Kudos for the writing quality, though, hence the bronze medal.

Honourable Mentions:

James: That was well-written, but much like mine, I think, ultimately pretty predictable. Unlike mine, in which the horror wasn't compressed enough, though, I think yours was too compressed. Because I already knew from the second they went in the tunnel with a camera what was going to happen, there was no tension building up. And without tension building, that took all the punch away from the first scary bit, and the the second one - her hand - has no breathing room to follow that up with. Maybe if he had brought the pictures with him to show his friend, and his friend was like, "Well never go back there!" and they're both like, "Yeah, thank God that's over," and then his friend is like, "Hey, what's on her hand?" and they start flipping through the pictures - that would've allowed the tension to build up again and make that second bit actually pop. As it is, they just kind of fell flat for me.

Sawyer: Some classic telling-instead-of-showing here, like “Ben didn’t want to go into Mr. Gavin’s home,” which could’ve been depicted by his anxious body posture or something like that. Calling the knocking “a little too gently” or the voice “a little shaky” or the smile “pretty creepy” is always inferior to calling it “far too quietly to be heard” or “trembling” or “oddly unnerving” – don’t pull your punches! That’s basically my overall critique. Same goes for the very end. You could’ve thrown in something really hideous at the end, but you pulled your punch. Don’t be afraid of writing with intensity. Better to overdo it than underdo it. I like the premise of the weird antique guy's strange mirror luring the kid in, the prose just wasn't strong enough for me.

Alex: No.

[J.O.N ((Dragonwing))]

First Place (3 points): Ad
This was a pretty haunting story driven by some amazing imagery. The description of the events that would play out given from the point of view of this "thing" did a great job of leaving me somewhat disturbed; the most of any of the stories here. Easily my favourite here and a well deserved first place.

Second Place (2 points): Reffy
Although you lacked a good build up, you portrayed the realisation of the swap between real world and mirror world quite well. Having a good strong ending is pretty essential to a true horror story, for me anyway. I do think if you put a bit more time in your descriptions especially those what your protagonist is feeling, it would carry the story much further. However, you wrote a solid story, you just have to be a bit more experimental and open about what the effects the horror element is having on the character and use that to try and influence the reader into feeling those same feelings.

Third Place (1 point): Injin
I give extra points for someone going outside their comfort zone. Dialogue has always been a rough spot with your stories but this feels pretty damn close to feeling natural (I dunno about how close it is to someone while high, though). It's stiff in parts and it lacks the horror elements being a more comedic take. The ending was fairly rushed and could've had work done on it. Overall though you made me laugh and genuinely enjoy reading it. It might be a bit controversial slipping you into third versus the others that put more time in to editing and making sure theirs is well written, but I can't overlook the fact you wrote a decent Halloween comedy.


Honourable Mentions:

Sawyer
I liked your stories, don't take me to not voting for them as me saying it was bad. I just found that you took a fairly common "trope" and didn't do much to reinvigorate. Reffy suffered from that as well, but her ending had a much better impact than yours did. Your ending felt rather lacking and it was a let down for the build up to it. Don't be afraid to stretch out your ending more to drive home something horrific. Describe what happens to Ben when he goes into the mirror, or have the characters in the mirror take more of the centre stage. Mr Gavin felt rather bland promising ice cream, you mention he was nice to the kids so play off that more.

James and Pete
So like Sawyer, I do like these stories. they aren't badly written. But they are copypasta and I don't feel like you did much to make them as interesting as they could be. James, yours had a pretty creepy monster but your ending didn't hit quite hard. Maybe its just the format of copypasta in general but it read very similar to every other spooky reveal I've seen in copypasta stories. It was a creepy monster though. Pete, I liked that you did something different with your story, it just didn't feel right for that kind of horror story. Maybe it was too long or you showed your reveal too soon? It just didn't work for me.

[Jenny (Reffy)]

Pete

I liked the desperation of the piece and the content. It definitely raised some questions about what had happened and who wrote the letter and how sad it was. Only real critique was about the repetition, which is a big no-no in flash because it uses extra words. In some respects this helped add to the desperation but it could have been done in less.



James

The pacing! Oh, how much I loved the pacing! It felt like he was actually there explaining what happened and speeding up with panic … but also excitement. Mind blown. Going to call you out on repetition though. Condense that bugger! You could chop a lot out and still keep the same feeling going.

2 Points



Ad

Bloody heck! I loved how it switched from almost scientific to the demon thing talking and it was as smooth as slipping down a nasty, mucky slide! The thesaurus you used as well. Those were some beautiful words! All a little bit too purple in places but still wonderful. My only complaint is paragraph three which ready had a thud, go back and re-read, effect and jogged me a little.

3 Points



Sawyer

Feels very I.T. and on topic lately! Keeping up with the trends though feel it could have been a bit scarier. Unfortunately in places it got very: “Ben this, Ben that” which made reading it a little difficult and perhaps a little laborious? I’d recommend to change it up a little bit. Great hook and content otherwise!



Dragon

Very simple and effective! You didn’t make it complicated and you didn’t stretch it out. I liked the POV and the limited vocabulary because it was from the younger POV too. I didn’t get much of a sense of threat or fear from him though. It might have been nice to see a bit more of that and perhaps even touch more on his guilt for doing it too?



Injin <3

AH-hahahaha! Amazing. A little hard to follow in places because I wasn’t sure who was speaking and when or what Simon Belmont’s angle was but honestly … I loved it! Florida man!

1 Point

[Ad Absurdum]

Sawyer


If you tell me the man is taking a smile, a pretty creepy one, then I’m immediately going to think the kid is an idiot for further associating with Mister Mirror Man.

Smiles shouldn’t be described as creepy, it’s a tell and it triggers no visceral imagery. Write that his smile stretched literally from ear to ear, curving in an impossible upwards crescent, tell me is exposed a set of far too unnaturally white teeth that seemed artificial. Give me something to make me uncomfortable.

I do like most of the introduction. The premise is tried but true. Kids having to go into a house to get something back. But after the set up, this kind of just reduces to a retelling of the opening scene of “It”. Instead of a boat it’s the ball and instead of the Clown it’s the Mirror Man. That’s fine material to draw on, as that is truly the scariest sequence of It, but writing this so close temporally to the actual movie release gave me too much déjà vu.

I think you either needed to subvert expectation somehow–we all know the man in the mirror is evil, he gives off a pretty creepy smile after all. Or otherwise you need to keep raising suspense. Your monster succeeds in a few sentences to lure that dumbass kid in. In It, Pennywise really has to seduce, and it drags on and you just know the entire time Georgie can drag himself away, but he also takes in Pennywise’s threat that his older brother will kill him himself he doesn’t bring back the boat. He gets pulled into an impossible situation, but you can see his apprehensiveness as well as Pennywise nearly breaking his guise, almost salivating a few times, during the scene. It ratchets up the tension really well.

I feel this needed more of that.

Kaez

This is based off of a creepypasta, but I think that the good things about most of those posts is they have a certain degree of anonymity. It gives it a certain grain of possible truth that makes it lodged in more. You go the same route, but I know who you are, I know this is a flashfiction contest so it’s harder to suspend my disbelief, especially when the story is entirely meta narrative designed to affect me. This may be better if it was done through another layer, augmented through a character and then perhaps at the end have the twist to show it is actually affecting the reader themselves, or perhaps present some sort of foreshadowing of what would happen if the person isn’t going to wake up. We need a stick along with that carrot. Cause, currently life is pretty good for me and I lack the incentive to change…maybe there’s one too many reptiles, but shit is pretty swell.


James


This is a good monster reveal, one that re-contextualizes something that happens earlier in the story is always an effective route. It puts a spin on earlier events. The idea that you can’t see in the dark and that there’s been a monster moving with you the entire time is unsettling, and walking in the dark is a not a that uncommon of a situation…so it’s good. Also, it sounds creepy, I got a good visual of it in my head. That’s lovely.

The twist with Clair is decent, but I feel it would have been creepier if you had connected it with a similar aesthetic that the monster possessed. Like, her lips are starting to extend or her nose is starting to wink out and only the camera is noticing so far. That, I feel, would have been pretty damn unsettling.


Dragon

Rats!

This is great. It’s grim and dark and has a certain timeless folktale vibe to it that just gets under one’s skin…like the rats did to that baby…

There’s a lot that happens in this story, for such a short period, but none of it feels rushed. Two parent deaths, a good amount of worldbuilding. And finally the last sinister calculus leading to the decision. Yet it all flows together very well.

The only crumb of nuisance here is that the story briefly goes present tense with ‘now we are hungry again’, before flipping back to past, but that’s a minor squabble.

Overall, great job.

Injin

“Dude. Look into my eyes.”

“That’s gay.”

This made me guffaw, genuinely. There was some funny bits in here. For being mostly dialogue this is some actually pretty good dialogue. The character’s sound dumb. I was hoping that the ending, though, would have a decent punch to it, but it just sort of concludes with the character’s running off stage left.

I enjoyed it, dude.

Reffy


I like the concept behind this. The idea of being trapped in a mirror, with no foreseeable way out is terrifying in of itself. To be fair, I swear I’ve heard this idea before, but I can’t place a finger on where, so it still resonates pretty fresh and I’ll give you credit for it.

I feel the execution and the protagonist’s realization are slightly too on the nose, though. The exclamation marks don’t help, but I think such reveals are better done slower, and more effective when the audience and the girl realize at the same time, when they both have that sinking feeling click in. At is stand right now, the execution happens to the girl first and she just sort of tells us, which deflates the ensuing horror.

I also would have liked to see something more from the monster. All we get is a smirk from her. But she’s in the sleepover, with the two other girl’s now. I feel giving us some foreshadowing towards something sinister would have been a nice double punch. Being stuck in a mirror world? Scary. Being stuck in a mirror world knowing that an imposter monster could harm your friends? Worse.


Scores

Dragon - 3

James - 2

Reffy - 1

[Injin]

Sawyer

Spooky evil mirrors eating people. That is a cool Halloween thing. Shouldn't be reviewing these stories before bed, what can I say though but that I am doing it. The set up was great, the reveal of something spooky was perfectly executed, but I don't think I really got the feeling the kid had much agency. That sort of made the story a little weaker, but I still liked it. Good job.

Kaez

I don't know why Pete, but these sorts of stories feel incredibly cliche. It isn't that it isn't poorly written, hell it evokes the very feelings its supposed to to give a visceral reaction that deep down its entirely possible that one is in the depths of a Coma, Pete, wake up.

It hits all of the right notes, but not much else for me. The parents seem a little flawed in their methodology, doing exactly as the doctor says instead of, say, bringing something the reader would like, but who knows?

James

Just A+ Creepy Pasta Halloween Horror. The nerve that the man overheard is feeling, just shuddering with every word. He's not there just to tell his buddy, he's there to get wasted because he can't tell his girlfriend that shit's gotten weird. I don't know what he did necessarily to draw this creature to him or to Jess, but shit bad things lay in the dark. Thanks for reenergizing my fear of the dark, dude. Dick move.

Dragon

Can I say how much I think you did this monster story well? There's a sort of mystery to the rats that isn't quite answered by the nature of the story, but the mystery is good. There's a sadness, but there's also just this despair that there is nothing that the kid can do BUT what the rats say. And that makes it a little more compelling than some of the other stories. Great job. I apologize for the weak review, but I'm tired and I want to tell you that you did a good job.

Injin


I don't know where to begin. Just no, Injin. No. Last Place.

Ad Absurdum

I'm not sure what to think of the story. Good idea of putting things in the hands of the possessor rather than the possessed, but while there's plenty of existential explanation of why possession happens and what the demon or ghost gains from it, I can't help but find a weakness in motivation. It seems to enjoy harming the liminal, yet its a joyless enjoyment that can only speak of the lack of true emotion that the creature possesses. Its cool, but not quite spooky enough.

Reffy

Now that's a twist to Bloody Mary that I wasn't expecting. This is sort of why I hate reviewing horror stuff. I'm easily spooked. I'm shook, Reffy. I think the panic is well illustrated, how she's desperately trying to get the attention of her friends and trying to figure out how to get out of it, but she can't. The only drawback is that there's not so much of a ending so much as a end. Disappointing, a little.

James: 3
Dragon: 2
Reffy: 1[/font]