Spooktober Prompts

For the month of October, I participated in a writing prompt event, called Spooktober Prompts. Since we’ve reached the last day, I decided to post all of them here. This was the first time I’ve done a daily writing prompt event and it was a lot of fun. The word required for each day’s prompt is denoted by the #.

Day 1: Jake sobbed on the floor. I faced Zia, eyeing her new cat ears. “We should’ve listened!” My wings shook.
“Did you know witches exist?”
“You didn’t have to insult her!”
Jake clawed at the silver carnival #mask stitched to his face. Screaming, he peeled it off.

Day 2: Last night’s terror burned in my mind. Groaning, I lifted my head, opening my eyes. Scarlet painted my fingers and arms. A wavering #wraith danced nearby. I turn, spotting her ghostly shell by the freshly mangled corpse.
Guess it wasn’t a nightmare after all.

Day 3: Mom told me not to play with it. But its rosy cheeks and big eyes begged me to. Now the #doll lies crumpled on the floor, a crack in its porcelain face. Black wisps leak out, skimming the floor. It morphs into a small figure, its wide mouth splitting to scream.

Day 4: They come when I close my eyes, when I try to sleep at night. Long, needly claws scratch in my head. Deep voices growl in my ears. This #insomnia took hold weeks ago. Started with scratches, yesterday it was deep gashes.
If I fall asleep, they’ll kill me.

Day 5: They wandered through the #cave, small lights glowing on their heads. Up ahead, a small hole shone moonlight from the world above. They grew closer, the sound of rain growing louder. Reaching the hole, they gazed up.
Screaming, they saw blood splatter down.

Day 6: Fluttery #webs snaked out from under the crawl space. Shaking, I shone a light under. A long, hairy spider leg the size of a baseball bat slithered out. It slashed around, aiming for me. Gulping, I knew what had to be done.
Time to burn the whole house down.

Day 7: “Step right up!”
I walked up to the man running the #carnival booth. Silver bottles lined shelves behind him. Old leather balls rested before me.
“How much?” I asked.
“Its free!”
I picked up a ball and swung.
Miss.
Miss.
He smirked. “The prize is your life.”

Day 8: We were told to never go into the forest. The blackened trees hid horrific tales.
Yet we didn’t listen.
Jen held the axe first. The #dybbuk overtook her. We tried to bring her back, to stop her from attacking us. She killed them.
I killed her.
Now, it’s in me.

Day 9: We placed the items in the chalk-drawn circle, little Ivy setting a frame down and Shawn placing Dad’s tie. Sitting, we chanted the #ritual he taught us.
Smoke flared from the middle. It cleared to reveal a middle aged demon.
“Dad!” We hugged each other tight.

Day 10: Thumps sounded from the #basement. Low howls reverberated through the house. Sighing, I grasped the keys and headed outside.
The locks and bars on the door were ripped apart. Howling echoed through the night. Spying the full moon, I groaned.
“Paul escaped.”

Day 11: Rattling echoed in the #walls. At night, it grew louder, almost shaking the entire house.
After days, I grabbed an axe. I chopped into the walls. Tearing a chunk out, swarms of carrion beetles flew out. They left behind heaps of bones I didn’t recognize.

Day 12: Very few people lined the street, trying to shuffle home. As I passed one, my heart stopped. They paused, seeing my face. We stared at each other, a perfect #doppelganger.
Which one of us was real? Am I fake?
They smirked. “I found you.”
The world went dark.

Day 13: The #nyctophobia started when I was ten. The darkness around my bed swells, almost like it’s alive. Teeth snap, claws rake on the wood floor. My nightlight dies. Shaking, I grab my phone, aiming the flashlight.
It doesn’t affect the shadows as they lunge at me.

Day 14: We raked sand over dad, #burying him on the beach. Laughing, he watched us draw lines, pretending to make clothes in the damp sand.
The earth shook. Dad yelled. We backed away as a hole opened beneath him. The beach swallowed him whole, sand covering his trace.

Day 15: I expected the #curse to be fake. But the witchy woman said “unthinkable mischief” would occur on the full moon.
Bathed in white, pain danced along my body. When it settled, I was smaller and shorter, barely off the ground.
She made me into a were-chihuahua.

Day 16: Guilty of witchcraft, they decided to #hang me. Idiots thought it would kill me.
But after the door fell, I simply waited. The rope stung, but everyone held their breath when I didn’t die.
Snapping the rope, I smiled. Magic glowed around me.
Time for revenge.

Day 17: Smoke drizzled into the air. I stood at the door of a small inn. Laughter sounded inside.
But when I opened the door, there was one person inside.
Behind the counter was an old #hag.
She raised a hand and magic pulled me in.
“Good. Dinner’s finally here.”

Day 18: You shouldn’t be in the #cemetery at night, especially on a new moon. The freshly buried often broke out, unaware they were dead.
Taking care of them was easy for us infernos.
Until tonight when I saw you up and about, wearing the same suit you married me in.

Day 19: Fresh garlic clung to the iron #gate, tied tightly across the rods. It was an old wives tale, told to protect us against the bloodsuckers who roamed.
But, it wasn’t true.
Garlic never stopped me from heading home, nor did it protect my victim last night.

Day 20: The body had been #mutilated beyond recognition. And there had been several reported missing persons.
But the killer had overlooked one small detail. A piece of jewelry sewn in the tattered jacket.
They had murdered a royal.
Blood for blood.
A life for a life.

Day 21: There was no telling who’d pull over first. I’d been #hitchhiking for two hours before a car stopped.
It was a shorter man, asking where I needed to go. I told him and hopped in.
We turned and stopped near a park.
I smiled, flashed my fangs then drank him dry.

Day 22: “I sought #asylum here after seeing these, these demons for days. But no one else seems to see them!”
She looked at me, fear gripping her eyes. “I-I see them too.” She gulped. “They’re demons bent on destroying everything.”
Laughing, one slipped out the door.

Day 23: The fire raged in our small #campsite. We drank and ate as the moon climbed higher.
Twigs cracked, but we blamed the fire.
It wasn’t until Jen screamed that we jumped.
An axe rested in her back. The attacker let her fall forward and rushed at us with a new one.

Day 24: I #watched the video play on my computer, a short horror capturing my attention. My laptop’s camera flickered on. I jumped as the masked individual from the video appeared onscreen. A hand touched me.
“What you witnessed was real. Now it’s time for yours.”

Day 25: Loud noises sounded behind the farm. We rushed out, flashlights in hand. Penned animals cried as we ran by, crunching growing louder. Reaching the goats, we shook.
Something was bent over a goat, eating it.
Dad almost dropped the flashlight.
“A #chupacabra!”

Day 26: In the middle of the building’s #ruins stood a single man. Ash coated his clothes, smearing across his face. Yet he was unharmed.
We tried to approach him. He turned to face us, muttering, “Help.”
He vanished. Seconds later, another building caught on fire.

Day 27: “Was the #experiment a success?”
The doctor froze, fear in his eyes. Slowly, he began to nod.
“Yes. We managed to save your sister’s body.”
I frowned. “Then why aren’t you happy?”
Clangs sounded. “Her soul was long gone. Another took its place. An evil one.”

Day 28: The dark #mare circled the town for days, but only at dawn and dusk before vanishing. Any efforts to capture it were in vain.
Today, it was seen with a rider. It grew closer, trotting down main street.
Removing their hat, they revealed a bloody, headless body.

Day 29: He never was afraid of #clowns. It was all fake from the hair to the nose.
Until he woke up one morning and looked in the mirror. His skin turned pale, hair frizzy neon orange, nose bulbous and turning red, and circles on his cheeks.
He had been infected.

Day 30: “There’s a prize at the end of the #maze.”
We had walked hours in the corn maze. The sun dipped down and night fell. Growls rattled in the cornstalks.
Sick of it, Josh tried to light a stalk on fire. Instead it wrapped around him, pulling him into darkness.

Day 31: #Midnight is a unique time, stuck between today and tomorrow.
They made a deal, unaware of the time, right as the clock struck 12.
The devil is a tricky one, and twisted the man’s desires.
Instead of becoming strong, his body morphed, solidifying into a statue.

Happy Halloween! And tomorrow is the start of NaNoWriMo and I’ll be taking part. I’ll post tomorrow a bit about my project and how the first day goes. Anyone else giving NaNo a go? Let me know! I’d love to hear about your project.

As always, happy writing!