MOHAK ROKADE's Blog

How to Write a Horror Story: Tips for Writing Horror

 

There’s a good reason horror stories are so popular, with adults and children alike. Like all good stories, horror tales help us escape to another world. But unlike other genres, horror takes things to the next level. Hearts pound, blood rushes, breathing escalates. Reading a good horror story can make us feel the same thrill and adrenaline rush as riding a particularly fast roller coaster.

Horror writing can seem daunting but read on to learn about common horror tropes and writing tips to create your own scary stories.

What Is a Horror Story?

Horror is a genre within creative writing that relies on one thing: instilling a sense of fear in the reader. The celebrated twentieth-century horror fiction author H.P. Lovecraft most famously remarked: “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”

4 Essential Components of a Good Horror Story.

A truly scary story has these four essential components.

Fear. This might seem obvious, but creating something that is truly terrifying (for an adult reader, at least) is harder than it sounds—and it mainly relies on the writer’s ability to build tension. Of course, though we all fear different things, the trick to a really effective horror story is creating fear out of something that readers would never have suspected to elicit that kind of reaction. Stephen King’s It (1986) is a great example. Before reading the book, you might not have had any kind of trouble with clowns. Might have even found them endearing. But Pennywise the clown changed that for a lot of people. Revulsion. A really good horror story can also make people feel disgusted, too—look no further than the success of franchises like Saw to see how the gross-out factor works. Surprise. When we are faced with a concept or idea we have never encountered before, we struggle to comprehend what is before us. One of the typical first reactions to the unknown is fear. This is why introducing surprising, unbelievable elements in a horror story works so well to instill fear in readers. Terror. A step up from fear, true terror combines all three elements above and adds one final, very potent ingredient: your imagination. The mere suggestion of evil can sometimes be all it takes to create a truly terrifying portrayal in someone’s mind.                                              Writing horror for a young audience has one key difference from writing horror for adults: a happy ending is essential. Children’s horror books are supposed to be like rollercoasters— frightening, but with an understanding that everything will be OK in the end.                                   Here are a few other guidelines for writing horror stories for young adults or children. Create a good plot. Some of the best young adult horror stories read more like adventure novels. Most children’s adventure stories have a similar plot structure: A group of kids is placed in danger, and they need to find a way to safety. However, someone (or something) is trying to prevent them from completing their “mission,” whatever that may be. The book is about the kids using their wits to complete their mission—this is plot-driven storytelling in its most basic form. Invent interesting, relatable characters. The best way to create fun, engaging characters that young readers will relate to is to ask questions and write down your answers. For example, is there a monster in the story? If so, what is it? What does it look like? Who is the villain? The main character? What’s the story’s major conflict? In what kind of situations will your characters land themselves, and how will they get back to safety? Instill a sense of fun. A young adult horror story needs to be fun to read. The kids in the book should be funny, as should the conflicts they face. Technically speaking, you want to write short chapters full of easy-to-read words. Give younger audiences fast-paced, plot-driven stories that are full of cliffhangers. They’ll feel much more inclined to read your books. Add tons of twists and cliffhangers. A cliffhanger is a device that compels readers to find out what happens next in a story. 

WRITING CLIFFHANGERS  is key to making your book a page-turner and it’s one of the easiest ways to make your writing more suspenseful. Small twists and turns are also a good idea to maintain a playfully spooky atmosphere and keep young readers engaged by directing them away from what they might think the ending will be. 

Humans Can Lick Too (Horror Story)

A girl is alone at home one night, for the first time. She has a dog to keep her company. The girl listens on the news about a serial killer on the loose. She goes to sleep after locking all the doors and windows but for one, which doesn’t close. Suddenly she is awakened by a dripping sound. Scared thoroughly, she tries to go back to sleep and puts her hand down the bed for a reassuring lick from her dog. As the dripping sound continues, she goes to check on the taps in the kitchen, bathroom and everywhere else but finds nothing. She returns to her bedroom and puts the hand down again for the dog to lick. The dripping sound continues and the girl is too frightened to fall asleep. But as her hand gets licked from under the bed, she slowly falls asleep. In the morning, when she opens the closet, she finds her dog killed and hanged upside down. The dripping sound was from the dog’s blood. On the closet doors, she sees a message – “Humans can lick, too”.

The Tower Room - Horror Story

" The Room in the Tower”. Long ago, there lived a man. This young man had a recurring nightmare. In the dream, the young man was always visiting a school friend of his, Jai Kishan Shirke. The friend’s house is grim and silent.

Unexpectedly, the man had to stay the night at Jai’s house, due to a thunderstorm. So, his friend’s mother, Mrs. Shirke offers the room in the tower to the young man. For some reason, the poor man is extremely scared of the room. In his dreams, he never sees the room. The young man had a friend named Karan Malhotra. Soon, the young man was to visit Karan’s house. The young man was surprised at the remarkable resemblance of his dream and Karan’s house. The only differences the man could see were the names and personalities of Karan and his family members.  However, the young man’s visit was a pleasurable one, unlike his dreams. As a storm had started to gather outside by the evening Mrs. Malhotra said to the young man, “Jai shall take you to your room.” As soon as he heard this, he knew nothing good would come out of it. Inside the room, he found an old painting of a woman. “Let’s move it out of the room,” the man suggested to Karan.
The young man and his friend carried the painting out of the room. When they return they find blood on their hands. “Are you hurt?” Karan asks. It turned out that none of them had been hurt. They both went to bed unsettled.
During the night, the storm became worse. A strong thunder clap awoke the young man. The man found Mrs. Shirke’s figure looming above him. The man jumped out of his bed in fright. In the darkness, he could hardly see a thing. Another thunder clap and the room was illuminated with a bright light. There, on the wall, hung the portrait of the old Mrs. Shirke, that had been taken out of the room earlier. It was old and moldy.
“I knew you would come,” Mrs. Shirke said icily. “Tonight I shall feast upon you, then we shall feast together. ” Mrs. Shirke began to walk towards him, the man was trembling. Somehow, he gathered all his strength and pushed the woman away. After that, he ran to Karan’s room as fast as he could.
“Her,” the man spoke in a shaky voice, “the woman from the portrait is in my room. The po… portrait is inside the room as well.” The young man was as white as a sheet. Karan only laughed at his friend and said, “It must be a dream.”
But Karan too had the same look on his face when he went inside his friend’s room. The room had dirt all over the floor and a pungent smell had filled the room. Then, Karan and the man ran away from the house without looking back.

The Cursed Doll - Horror Story

Once there lived a girl, who loved dolls. The little girl had a huge collection of dolls in her room. There were small dolls, big dolls, dolls with all kinds of dresses. “I’ll collect even more of them,” the girl would say every time she bought a new doll.

One day, the little girl goes to the market to look for new dolls. She finds a shop, she likes and starts browsing the dolls they had on display. The girl looks and looks, finally coming to one of the dolls. This doll was an extremely beautiful doll. It was like no other doll the girl had seen. Immediately, the girl knew she wanted it, “This doll will make my doll collection look even more beautiful. I really want to buy this!” She ran to an employee of the store and told her about the doll she wanted to buy. “Sorry miss,” the employee tells her, “that doll is not for sale.” The girl becomes confused, and asks, “But why not?” 




Age 7-12Scary Short StoriesStories By AgeStories By Topic The Cursed Doll By Basab Ghosh

This is one of the kids scary stories. Once there lived a girl, who loved dolls. The little girl had a huge collection of dolls in her room. There were small dolls, big dolls, dolls with all kinds of dresses. “I’ll collect even more of them,” the girl would say every time she bought a new doll.
One day, the little girl goes to the market to look for new dolls. She finds a shop, she likes and starts browsing the dolls they had on display. The girl looks and looks, finally coming to one of the dolls. This doll was an extremely beautiful doll. It was like no other doll the girl had seen.


kids scary stories
Immediately, the girl knew she wanted it, “This doll will make my doll collection look even more beautiful. I really want to buy this!” She ran to an employee of the store and told her about the doll she wanted to buy. “Sorry miss,” the employee tells her, “that doll is not for sale.” The girl becomes confused, and asks, “But why not?” Also, read Clown Statue Story.

The employee doesn’t speak for a while at first, nervously looking here and there. Then finally says, “You see, that doll is cursed. Only bad things happen to whoever buys it.” The little girl tells the employee that she really likes the doll and wants to buy it. “It will look good with my doll collection, and I will never find a doll of this kind!”
At last, the defeated employee lets the girl have the doll free of cost, but gives a fair warning to the little girl, “You must know that the doll is really cursed and only bad things befall those who have the doll. Don’t blame me if something does go wrong.”
But, the little girl was way too happy with the free doll to pay any mind to the warning she just received. The girl ran and skipped all the way back to her apartment thinking about the doll and her collection. Finally, when she reaches the elevator in the lobby, she finds the lobby eerily quiet.  The usually lively lobby was dead silent.  “This is unusual,” the little girl whispers and waits for the elevator to arrive. Once inside the elevator, she presses the button for her floor, but the elevator does not move an inch. The elevator begins to grow darker and begins to tremble. “What is happening?” she asks in a shaky voice.
That very moment, the doll in the girl’s arms starts to shake as well. The little girl looks at the doll, only to find the once closed eyes staring back at her with an intense stare and an evil smile. Suddenly an evil laughter fills the elevator and the doll says, “Now press the button to go up.”
“What?” is the last word the girl utters .

The Clown Statue - Horror Story

The Clown Statue - Horror Story
Once a wealthy couple in New Delhi, they decided to take a break after a long tiring week. So, they booked a table for dinner. That evening, a fifteen-year-old girl was called to babysit their two children. As soon as the girl entered their house, the father left to get the car, “Hurry up, we are already running late.”While kissing the kids goodbye, she asked them not to trouble their babysitter.Before leaving the house, the mother says to the babysitter, “After you put the kids to sleep, you can then watch some television in our bedroom. Lately, they have been having nightmares. So, please stay close to them.”
The kids played peacefully that evening and did not trouble the babysitter. Soon, it was time for the kids to sleep, “Come on kids, time for bed.” She took the kids to their bedroom and tucked them into their beds after reading them a story.
When the kids were asleep, she finally went to their parent’s room and switched on the television. As she was flipping through the channels, an unusual statue in the room caught her eye. “A big clown statue? Scary!” the babysitter thought. 
When the kids were asleep, she finally went to their parent’s room and switched on the television. As she was flipping through the channels, an unusual statue in the room caught her eye. “A big clown statue? Scary!” the babysitter thought.
At first, the girl tried to ignore the scary clown statue, which continued to stare at her. After a while, the clown statue started bothering her making her uncomfortable. At last, after enduring it for a while, she threw a blanket over the clown statue. But, that did not change anything. The big shoes of the clown were still peeking out, making the girl uncomfortable.
“I should call the parents and ask them if I can watch television in some other room?” Finally, she decided to go downstairs and give them a call. “Hi, it’s me,” she said immediately after the father answered the phone.
“Has something happened? Are the kids alright?” the father asked, panicking. “Yes, yes the kids are fine,” the babysitter told them. “Can I watch the television in some other room? The clown statue in your room is making me uncomfortable.”
“Wait… clown statue?” the father spoke, “What clown statue? We don’t have a clown statue.” The babysitter immediately dropped the phone, she started shaking uncontrollably. “Take the kids and get out of the house!” the babysitter never heard the father scream through the phone. The poor babysitter was extremely scared. She turned around to run upstairs to the kids, the big clown statute was standing right behind her, sneering at her! 

BATMAN VS SHERLOCK HOLMES - FICTIONAL CROSSSOVER

 

Batman: I’m Batman.

SHERLOCK: Nope. You are not.Batman: But, I am… I’m Bat… Never mind. It’s not who I’m underneath but what I do that defines me.SHERLOCK: Beating up criminals with your bare hands and roaming the streets of Gotham in the dark, clad up in a mask and a black attire, definitely defines you. It is not what you do but who you are underneath that interests me.Batman: I fight criminals with my bare hands. I stand up against the men who have poisoned my city and strive to give hope to the people. I am all that is left between sanity and chaos. The mask is to protect my identity and those who are close to me.SHERLOCK: I have dealt with criminal masterminds, serial killers, Chinese drug mafia, deadly assassins, imposters, con-men, extortionists, secret agents, murderers, corrupted billionaires, psychopaths, frauds, and the greatest criminal brain the world has ever seen. Yet I don’t dress up like a clown and roam around at night to invite bad guys for a fistfight. Although I’m popular for sporting a deerstalker, so I guess that makes us even on the clown front.Batman: You must have been born with resources. I was born in the dark.SHERLOCK: I don’t think so. Fancying that bike, that ugly car, and whatever the flying bat thing is- of course, you have resources. That kind of weaponry and the millions of dollars dumped into research clearly indicates the involvement of a corporation that handles government military contracts. Since you’re so much attached to Gotham city, it has to be Wayne Enterprises. Hardly a difficult leap. The Bat of Gotham who is infamous for wreaking havoc upon the criminal class with his bare fists had to be trained in various forms of martial arts and to reach that level it must have taken you years of rigorous training. There have been various articles and gossip blogs about the missing years of Bruce Wayne. Maybe he was sent off for study or maybe he was at some distant land, learning the primordial art of self-defense.Batman: (Trying hard to make his best poker face)SHERLOCK: But any layman with the right motivation can connect these dots. The idea of Bruce Wayne being the Batman must have crossed their minds before. But they rub this thought off because they don’t care to know why? Why would a billionaire playboy, who has the power, the money, the fame at his disposal, runoff in the middle of the night on a crime-hunt? Why would a guy, who has everything, try to save the soul of Gotham?Batman: (Making his best poker face)SHERLOCK: Your parents were murdered on the streets of Gotham, weren’t they Bruce? There is all the motivation you need to avenge their deaths and save this city.Batman: (after a brief pause) You think you are the only one who has made that claim before?SHERLOCK: It’s not a claim. If I have deduced it, it is the proof.Batman: (resorting back to his poker face)SHERLOCK: (stares hard into Batman’s eyes without uttering a word)Batman: (continues keeping his poker face intact)SHERLOCK: Okay. If you want to play it this way, then here we go. You can have all your fancy toys at your disposal to prevent revealing your identity, much like the infrared sensors near your jaw which would give me an electric shock if I attempted to open your mask. But you forgot the very basic and natural thing that would give your identity away- your height. You would be around 6′2″ if I eradicate the extra thick sole of your shoe and although judging your weight won’t be easy because of the heavy armor, I would still bet on around 200….. no, 210 pounds going by your neck and jawline. You are clearly in rather good shape for your age. Your age? Oh yes! The lines under your eyes say more than enough, so I would place you above 40. Guess who has a height of 6′2″, weighs 208 pounds, and is 43 years old according to Wikipedia. Belated Happy Birthday, by the way. Convinced? Still Not? Well, I can smell a peculiar brand of perfume, it’s Caron’s Poivre, one of the most expensive perfumes for men. To me, it is absurdly costly but clearly, a billionaire can afford it. Wait, Tate Gala was held this very evening and since Miranda is a board member of Wayne Enterprises, guess who would have gone to the place. Your reflexes suggest that you refrained from Champagne. You clearly didn’t stay for dinner but rushed back to the streets instead, for your night duty. And certain unfortunate goon got one hell of a kick, judging by the state of the broken metal shoe cover or whatever you would like to call it. Wait… you do not wear any shoes inside I see. So, Mr. Wayne, it was indeed a pleasure running into you, like this.Batman: (after a really long pause) No one should….SHERLOCK: Oh don’t worry. I have kept better secrets than this. And by the way, I wonder why no street criminal ever takes a shot at your exposed chin rather than aimlessly firing at a bulletproof suit. You need to contact your guy Mr. Wayne. I think you are in dire need of a serious upgrade.Batman: I’ll see… what I…. can…. do. But could you do me a favor and help me in locating the Joker?SHERLOCK: Of course. What do you think I’m in Gotham for? (Smiles and turns back to leave.)Batman: Then where is he?SHERLOCK: (While walking away) Goodbye Bruce. Laters....Batman: WHERE IS HE?
MOHAK ROKADE

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BATMAN VS IRON MAN - SUPERHERO CROSSOVER

 

Batman:  (angrily) Step Away!

Iron Man: Who was this…. my god, that is one badass suit. Friday, remind me to build a black one next time.

Batman: Get away from him.

Iron Man: Or what are you gonna do Bat? Bite me?

Batman: (Takes out his EMP canon and fires it on Tony, making him crash in a tree behind)

Iron Man: (Shaking his head) Bad call! (Fires at Bruce, throwing him back)

Batman: He is mine. Stay away from him.

Iron Man: The clown is yours? Seriously? He has been wrecking up Gotham for years now, but you my Bat friend didn’t do shit. Now when I have brought him down single handedly, look who decides to claim that big fat bounty.

Batman: Leave him to me right now, if you don’t wanna get hurt.

Iron Man: Hurt me? Seriously? You can’t even fly in that suit. Such an irony for a hero called bat, don’t you think?

Batman: I don’t need a suit to fly. (Presses a button to summon ‘The Bat’ which instantly opens fire on Tony)

Iron Man: (Tries hard to avoid the onslaught but alas is caught in the flurry of bullets)

Batman: (Walks towards the unconscious Joker with a hint of a smile)

.

.

Iron Man: Incoming! (Slams hard into Batman and tosses him into the sky, before shooting him into the ground with his laser)

Batman: (Struggles to get back up)

Iron Man: (Opens his mask) Let’s stop this childishness Bruce, and deal with the situation like adults.

Batman: (Brooding) How do you know?

Iron Man: Let’s say that my OS is light years ahead of yours.

Batman: Gotham is my city and Joker has caused it a lot of pain. He needs to pay for his deeds.

Iron Man: I’ll ensure justice.

Batman: My justice differs from yours.

Iron Man: Your justice differs from…… wow man, do you practice these dialogues too? I have to say that was a good one.

Batman: (Stares blankly)

Iron Man: You don’t have many friends I suppose.

Batman: (Stares irritably)

Iron Man: You’re not the kind to chit-chat much then? You are the lone wolf, the sage among us superheroes.

Batman: (Stares angrily)

Iron Man: Okay, c’mon now Bruce, I’m getting nothing here with your mask on. You are like a sphinx, I can’t read your face.

Batman: (Stares furiously)

Iron Man: People will assume that I am crazy, talking to myself. And crazy really means something now, especially when Joker is lying around…… wait! where did he go?

Batman: (Ferociously) Where is he?

Iron Man: (Nervously looks around but the Joker is simply gone)

Batman: (Stomps hard towards Tony and lands a punch on his face) Where is he?

Iron Man: (Bringing his mask down) I (punches Bruce on his face) Don’t (Punches him again) Know (Fires his laser to throw him back)

Batman: (Throws a mini-bomb which explodes near Tony, digging shards in his suit)

Iron Man: (Getting angrier) No one messes with my suit.

Both of them run towards each other…. Tony flies as they get closer and smacks himself into Bruce, while carrying him away….. Bruce tries hard to escape Tony’s grip and crashes his elbow again and again into Tony’s suit only to make no impact….. with no alternative left, he takes out a gadget from his utility belt and presses a button…… the electricity inside Tony’s suit fluctuates and the boosters which keeps him in the air suddenly gets jammed…… Both of them fall on the brim of a lake….. they recover soon and continue their fistfight in knee deep waters….. With disproportionate power in his suit….. only a few functions are left working…….. and since it became more of a fist fight, Batman got the upper hand and starts handing Tony his ass……

*Meanwhile Joker walks away from the scene, laughing while he does it*

Joker: Whyyyy sooooo seriousss?

MOHAK ROKADE

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The Slenderman (Horror Story)

 

After waking up with a jolt, the girl laid in bed a few seconds longer. Reaching over to switch on her bedside lamp, she tried to remember exactly what had stolen her sweet slumber away. When she couldn’t, the brunette swung her legs over the side of the bed and heaved herself up. Checking the time on her phone, she snorted when she saw it was midnight- the witching hour. Knowing that sleep would only evade her, she left her bedroom for the kitchen, a good cup of coffee on her mind.

As she passed by her front door, a chill spread like liquid fire down her spine. It’s the only winter, she told herself, focusing again on the coffee plan. Measuring out scoops, water, and preparing her cup kept her occupied, but as the dark liquid boiled, she had nothing left to keep her mind from wandering off. The chill returned and she couldn’t help but glance behind her to the front door. It stood there innocently enough, just like always. The deadbolt was still in place and she could see nothing amiss with it. Turning back to her coffee, she did her best to forget about the feeling.

With her cup in hand, she started back towards her bedroom. As she walked by the front door, she decided that a quick glance out of the peephole would help calm her restless mind. The chill worsened with each step she took towards the door and further away from the safety and warmth of her blankets. She pressed her empty hand against the cold, metal door and took a deep breath before leading her eye to the peephole.

At first, she could only see an inky blackness and somehow seemed to swirl in itself. When she blinked in surprise, the void melted away. She wished it hadn’t. In its place, there stood what she could only guess was once a man. The limbs were long and inhumanly awkward, with bulky joints branching off into several arms, not unlike the branches of a tree. The creature was drapped in a black suit, somehow manking the thing more nightmarish to her. The icing on the proverbial cake, however, was what passed as the hellish thing’s face. It was as though her mind blurred the ghastly visage to spare itself further shock and horror.

She shoved herself away from the door with the hand still pressed against it. The scalding mug of coffee fell, the liquid burning her bare legs as she fell backward and tried to crawl away from the door. She knew, somehow, that her mind hadn’t been playing tricks on her. As she crab-walked away from the door, she watched as tendrils as black as the void she first saw snake around through the cracks. The girl was trapped between the instinct to flee and the gut feeling to not turn her back on the door. When the door jolted, the urge to flee overcame her and she slipped in the burning liquid as she tried to make it back to her room.

She knew deep down that she was trapping herself in a corner, but she had to get away from the door. The girl was halfway down the hallway when she heard the previously locked door creak open. She screamed and slipped into a wall, cracking her chin on it and stunning her.

After that, there was only blackness.

MOHAK ROKADE

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Where's Uncle Tommy? (Horror Story)

“Now remember, I don’t want you talking to him unless I’m around, you hear?”

“Yes, dad.”

“I’m serious. Now tuck in your shirt — he’s here.”

The front door swung open and there stood Uncle Tommy, drenched in sweat from a day’s work in the summer heat.

“It’s a scorcher out there, ain’t it?” he said, putting his bag on the floor and untying his boots. “I appreciate you letting me crash for the night.”

“Just so long as you’re gone in the morning,” my dad replied coldly.

“Of course.”

“Now,” Uncle Tommy said, turning to me and lowering himself to a knee. “Where’s my hug at? Been a while since I seen you last.”

I took a couple steps toward him and leaned in for a hug. His tight embrace made me uncomfortable, and I let out a light whimper.

“Don’t you know it’s a hundred degrees out there?” he asked, tugging at my long sleeves.

“I haven’t been outside today,” I recited to him.

“Don’t you have some chores to finish up?” Dad interjected.

I knew that was my cue to leave, so I shuffled off to my room.

Later that night I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to be comfortable, when I heard the thud of footsteps in the hallway outside my bedroom. After several long seconds of silence, the door opened quietly, the dark silhouette of a man entered the room, and the door closed again. For several more seconds there was nothing but unrelenting silence. I might have thought I had dreamt it all if it weren’t for the sound of a hushed breath being carefully released.

I could feel him getting nearer. The warmth of another person in the room was unfamiliar at this hour. I was not prepared for this; I prayed he would go away, to even come back in the morning if he must.

He reached down and touched me. He rolled me onto my stomach and lifted up my shirt. From the corner of my eye I could see two things: the faint beam of a pocket flashlight, and Uncle Tommy’s eyes studying my bare skin. His rough fingers ran up and down my back. Suddenly, he got up and walked to the bedroom door and left. I tried again to fall asleep, eventually succeeding.

He was gone by the time I awoke.

Around noon the phone rang while my father was out.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey buddy.”

“Uncle Tommy?”

“Yeah. Your dad around?”

“No sir. Went to the store.”

“Good,” he said, sounding a bit nervous. He paused for a moment. “I’m calling about last night. I don’t know if you were awake or not — ”

“I was.”

MOHAK ROKADE

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Haunted House (Horror Story)

 It is a dark and stormy night.

You walk alone down a desolate street. The rain has been falling steadily all night and is only getting worse. You are soaked to the bone and need to get out of the rain.

Then you see a house. “Thank heavens!” you say out loud. But at second glance, your relief is chilled by the look of the place.

It's dark. Only a lone street lamp casts a dim, yellow light on the sad features of the house. It looks as if no one has lived here for many years. The windows are broken. An old, ripped curtain blows from a third-story window.

Now, you remember where you are.This house is from your childhood. Neighborhood kids talked of ghosts, from a family long dead, walking through the house at night.

The front yard is tangled with overgrown weeds and vines. A pathway lined with broken stones leads to an old house.

As you walk down the sidewalk, tree branches seem to lean into your path. They grab at your hair and clothes. Spider webs stretched across the branches get caught in your eyes and mouth. As you wipe them away, you hear something behind you.

What is it?! You turn around. Nothing. It was probably just a cat, you tell yourself. Although, you don’t believe it.

Just as you step onto the sagging front porch, the door creaks open. Suddenly, two bony hands push you inside. The door slams shut!

From the shadows, things start to come toward you! You can't see anything, but you can hear them coming closer. You run, but running only takes you farther into the nightmare. Your heart beats wildly. Hoping to hide, you open a door, but a skeleton falls into your face. Screaming, you fight with the bones as they entangle your arms and legs! Finally, you break free and run for your life down a hallway.

For a moment, you think you're safe. Then a deathly white hand reaches out from under a table, grabbing at your ankles! You run faster, this time up a flight of stairs. But a half-human, half-bat creature hangs from the ceiling. It flies toward your neck with blood dripping from its razor-sharp teeth.

As you try to escape, you trip down some stairs and fall into a cold, dark basement. From a small window, you look outside and see a crazed man holding an axe. He's looking right at you, laughing.

Fear takes over your whole body, as you run out of the house only to find ...

... a bowl of candy. If you're lucky, maybe a plate of cupcakes, too. You dig your hands into the candy bowl and fill your pockets with sweets. You deserve it. You made it out alive!