Horror Hullabaloo: 27/07/2022

Gillian Church posts regular Writing Prompts on her Horror Prompts Instagram account and I like to take part with a few snippets and pieces of flash fiction.

The Prompt:
Pool

The Submission:
Polly had been whining for a pool since last summer. Warwick had been pulling some serious overtime to help pay for it, and my veg patch will never be the same, but it’s coming along really well.

Of course, the builders conveniently found a reason to bulk up the price, saying our “ground swell” was dangerous for the “intake valve”, but it was worth it to see her smiling face every day.

“Is it ready, Mummy?” she’d ask, eyes glistening. “Can we go swimming??”

“Soon, Honey,” I soothed reassuringly, hugging her close.

Warwick was out there, surveying the hole, scratching the back of his neck and no doubt wondering how we’d pay for the tiling. I brought him a mug of tea, intending to coax him out of there before he looked a little too closely, and he glance dup at me, a look of horror and confusion on his face.

He held a small, dirty, mangled femur in his hand.

Grimly, I set down his tea and grabbed a spade.

I hoped the pool would alleviate Polly’s grief.


What did you think to this piece? Did you submit anything for Gillian’s Horror Hullabaloo prompt? Have you ever written any flash fiction before? I’d love to know what you think to my snippets and writing prompts, so feel free to sign up and let me know what you think below or leave a comment on my Instagram page. You can also follow Gillian Church and Horror Prompts to take part in the Horror Hullabaloo challenge.

Horror Hullabaloo: 20/07/2022

Gillian Church posts regular Writing Prompts on her Horror Prompts Instagram account and I like to take part with a few snippets and pieces of flash fiction.

The Prompt:
Itch

The Submission:
I never should’ve opened that crate! What even was that stuff? Stinking, slimy meat … and those maggots, God! I thought I’d covered myself; I washed my hands for a good ten minutes after touching it.

Now, the itch is almost unbearable! The boils, the lesions … they’ve started to leak a gloopy pus and all the creams have only made them more aggressive. I can’t stop scratching them … maybe I’ll have better luck with the razor …


What did you think to this piece? Did you submit anything for Gillian’s Horror Hullabaloo prompt? Have you ever written any flash fiction before? I’d love to know what you think to my snippets and writing prompts, so feel free to sign up and let me know what you think below or leave a comment on my Instagram page. You can also follow Gillian Church and Horror Prompts to take part in the Horror Hullabaloo challenge.

Horror Hullabaloo: 11/07/2022

Gillian Church posts regular Writing Prompts on her Horror Prompts Instagram account and I like to take part with a few snippets and pieces of flash fiction.

The Prompt:
Justice

The Submission:
I think the worst thing was that she came to the funeral.

Well … obviously that wasn’t the worst thing. The absolute worst thing was that she’d caused my boy’s death but, apparently, we weren’t allowed to say that out loud.

She stood there, crying those crocodile tears, playing the role of Little Miss Innocent but I knew the truth.

Hell, we all knew the truth, but Heaven forbid we should say anything lest her innocent little heart break.

I knew she was trouble the moment Josh brought her home. Too sweet, too perfect. Her skin unblemished, her body perky and shapely. She hadn’t lived a day, hadn’t grated, hadn’t had to try for anything.

Of course she would get him to drive, even if they’d had too much. Of course he would agree; what boy would turn down something a girl like that asked?

And to see her standing there, like butter wouldn’t melt … that wasn’t justice.

The only true justice could come from making her suffer as my boy had suffered. From flaying her skin with a rusty razor, stringing her up before the bound and gagged and terrified eyes of her shit-kicking parents. From splitting her from her tasty groin right to the gullet and basking in the sticky warmth of her entrails.

Standing there, watching her blubbering those fake tears, her father’s arm around her shoulder, it took everything I had not to throttle her on the spot.

Tonight, though … my boy would have justice.


What did you think to this piece? Did you submit anything for Gillian’s Horror Hullabaloo prompt? Have you ever written any flash fiction before? I’d love to know what you think to my snippets and writing prompts, so feel free to sign up and let me know what you think below or leave a comment on my Instagram page. You can also follow Gillian Church and Horror Prompts to take part in the Horror Hullabaloo challenge.

Horror Hullabaloo: 02/07/2022

Gillian Church posts regular Writing Prompts on her Horror Prompts Instagram account and I like to take part with a few snippets and pieces of flash fiction.

The Prompt:
I thought the fireworks were cancelled this year, so what are all those flashes?

The Submission:
Graham stumbled about amidst the thin, flaking trees, half-tripping as he zipped up his jeans. Lizzy was still on the ground, her slick, smooth, naked form partially covered by yellow and brown autumnal leaves.

“I can’t believe we did that…” she breathed, one hand to her panting, red chest.

Graham murmured non-committedly. Inwardly, he worried if he’s caught something from her; it had all happened so fast, and Josh had said that he’d had a bit of a rash the other month…

A sudden bang snapped him from his thoughts of gonorrhoea and a burst of crackling lights filled the sky, startling them both. Lizzy scrambled up, haphazardly slipping her dress back on without wasting time with her bra and the remains of her panties.

“The fuck was that?!” she cried, her hair a straggly mess; Graham could see dry leaves and brittle twigs caught in it like flies in a wed. “I thought the fireworks were cancelled!”

The realisation that they, and their tryst, could be discovered by neighbourhood kids wandering out with sparklers or other teens looking to cop a feel slowly dawned on Graham. He grabbed Lizzy by the hand and led her through the twisted, gnarled, frail trees as more explosions and a cascade of sparkles lit up the sky.

She seemed captivated by them, probably still high from the adrenaline of their rampant and lust-filled encounter, but her eyes widened in terror as they burst from the woods and beheld a gaggle of robed figures standing, chanting, around a massive bonfire.

Two or three of the cloaked figures were off at the side, setting off the fireworks and hollering in incomprehensible gibberish. The rest danced and sang, flailing their arms to the starry night heavens, their faces completely obscured from the blackness of their hoods.

The bonfire raged; a near-blinding inferno of oranges and yellows. Graham held his hand up to shield his eyes and his stomach sank when he spotted the vague figures writhing in agony within the flames. The cacophony of the fireworks exploding overhead did little to drown out the anguish from this close and, realising they were completely vulnerable out in the open, Graham began to back the two of them into the woods.

A large, boil-encrusted hand fell on his shoulder and Graham screeched, falling to the floor. A shadowy robed figure loomed over him, a rusty pitchfork in hand; the prongs glistened with blood as they protruded from Lizzy’s stomach, her gagging face awash with shock and agony.

“Another sacrifice, my brothers!” the figure called.


What did you think to this piece? Did you submit anything for Gillian’s Horror Hullabaloo prompt? Have you ever written any flash fiction before? I’d love to know what you think to my snippets and writing prompts, so feel free to sign up and let me know what you think below or leave a comment on my Instagram page. You can also follow Gillian Church and Horror Prompts to take part in the Horror Hullabaloo challenge.

Horror Hullabaloo: 17/06/2022

Gillian Church posts regular Writing Prompts on her Horror Prompts Instagram account and I like to take part with a few snippets and pieces of flash fiction.

The Prompt:
I know the sign says that the beach is closed, but what’s the worst that could happen?

The Submission:
“C’mon, Ste-ee-ve!” Poppy teased, tugging him by the hand.

“Pops, wait…we shouldn’t be here…”

“Oh, man up,” she giggled, sand flying as she danced around on the beach under the pale moonlight, the dark waves lapping  at her toes.

Steve held back, his skin crawling despite the warm wind. “C’mon, let’s get outta here, this place has bad vibes..”

“Startin’ t’sound like a pussy, boy,” Poppy  purred. She ran her hands through her thick, dark locks and over her perky breasts, tugging at her top to expose her tanned flesh.

Steve hesitated; he’d heard the rumours about the beach, and there was a reason it had been closed for the summer. He could still see the police tape fluttering in the breeze and the last thing he  wanted was to trip over the severed limb of some poor dismembered fool…

But Poppy was stripping before him, dancing on the sand, her body clean and smooth and beckoning…and he couldn’t resist.

He went to her, frantically tugging at his vest, but she slipped from his grasping hands, tittering and teasing him. assertively, he lunged at her, grabbing her by the wrist and spinning her into his arms and a deep kiss, groaning as she cupped his crotch.

“There’s my man…” she sighed, biting his lip.

Steve pecked at her neck, lightly nibbling, not even caring about the slight taste of salt from the sea air. He ran his hands over slick body, enjoying her low moans; she gasped, almost a shriek, and he felt himself grow more excited at how quickly she was getting into it.

A warm, oozing sensation dribbled down his collarbone and Steve looked up, confused, to see blood, viscous from sand, bursting from her trembling lips. “Gurk…” she choked, her eyes wide. Steve tried to step back from her, to run for help, but she held him tight, her nails digging into his flesh, and he screamed as her eyes burst with sickening gore as tendrils of sand wormed their way out of her every orifice.

Poppy’s body jerked violently, causing Steve to tumble to his ass in the sand; her arms and legs contorted outwards, as though she were doing a star jump, and Steve watched with horror as sand, shifting and flowing like the tentacles of some deep-sea kraken, snaked through her, flowing through her veins, and tore her to shreds, drenching him in vile gore and entrails. Steve scrambled backwards, sand flying all around him and into his screaming mouth as he tried to flee. He got maybe four steps before the searing grasp of a whip-like tentacle wrapped itself around his ankle and dragged him back…


What did you think to this piece? Did you submit anything for Gillian’s Horror Hullabaloo prompt? Have you ever written any flash fiction before? I’d love to know what you think to my snippets and writing prompts, so feel free to sign up and let me know what you think below or leave a comment on my Instagram page. You can also follow Gillian Church and Horror Prompts to take part in the Horror Hullabaloo challenge.

Horror Hullabaloo: 23/05/2022

Gillian Church posts regular Writing Prompts on her Horror Prompts Instagram account and I like to take part with a few snippets and pieces of flash fiction. This time, I asked my followers for suggestions and put together a short piece based on what they offered.

The Prompts:
Sacrifice, Carousel, Lips, Superfluous

The Submission:
Time was running short. It wouldn’t be long until it caught up with them, and Johnny knew that there was nothing he could do; any attempt to resist would be superfluous, and he’d seen far too may torn limb from limb in failed attempts to negotiate of fight against it.

Still, he didn’t want to worry Sonya; the girl had already watched her mother dissolve from the inside out with a smile on her face, and the last thing he wanted was for her to see the carnage unfolding around them.

He bundled her into the back of the car, stroking her face and making soothing sounds, and drove to the  park as quickly as he could. “Daddy, what’re those people doing?” she asked, glancing out the window.

“Don’t you worry about that, Peanut,” Johnny quickly admonished. “Just play your game and don’t look out there.” She didn’t need to see those winged demons carrying away her friends and neighbours, or the burning blood raining from the sky.

He hurried her over to her favourite place in the entire world; the carousel. It drifted lazily in the wind, stained from blood and scorch marks, but thankfully free from corpses or the shambling dead.

“Go on now, Peanut,” he encouraged kissing her on the lips and watching, with tears filling his eyes, as she giggled and rotated on that same chipped and ugly looking unicorn.

A dark shadow fell over them; black, broiling clouds crept over the sky and a blazing red eclipse burned in the sky. Johnny felt his skin grow deathly cold as a hand, skeletal and dripping, caressed his shoulder. He took one last look at Sonya, happily enjoying her ride, and steeled himself; perhaps if he acted swiftly enough, he could save her. His sacrifice could mean her survival, even if just for a few more precious seconds of simple joy. He whirled, fist raised, and felt all the breath blow from his body as he locked eyes with the eternity of the Black and dropped dead, ashen and crumbling, as the darkness swept across the world.


What did you think to this piece? Have you ever written any flash fiction before? I’d love to know what you think to my snippets and writing prompts, so feel free to sign up and let me know what you think below or leave a comment on my Instagram page. You can also follow Gillian Church and Horror Prompts to take part in the Weekly Writing Prompt challenge.

Weekly Writing Prompt: 09/05/2022

Gillian Church posts Writing Prompts every week on her Horror Prompts Instagram account and I like to take part with a few snippets and pieces of flash fiction.

The Prompt:
It’s so quiet. Where is everybody?

The Submission:
I found myself walking through town, aimlessly it seemed, stunned by the stark silence that surrounded me.

There was not a bird in the air nor a soul on the street; it was eerie and unsettlingly.

Even worse was the mist that had descended over everything; it hung in the air, a swirling vapour, and as I cut through it with squinted eyes I could swear I could see shadows darting through it.

I spied the flickering orange light from a lamppost up ahead and instinctively moved towards it, telling myself the dread that crept up my spine was simply from the atmosphere and not from ethereal hands caressing the back of my neck.

My heart stopped as I reached the beam of light.

Andrea.

Of all the times and places for her to show up.

She was exactly as I remembered her: those long, curling locks, those wide green eyes, that silky smooth skin. She was even wearing the same coat, a long black number with buttons down the front, over a striped yellow and orange top that clung to her in all the right ways…and yet was classy and respectable.

I lump formed in my throat. Whispers danced all around me, urging me towards her, and when she looked up and waved, that same small smile tugging at her lips, I just about died.

I tried to wave back but my arms felt heavy as lead, and I prepared to tell her how much I missed her and awkwardly flirt with her like how I used to everyday when she casually walked through me as if I wasn’t even there.

I turned, shocked, and watched her disappear into the mist. I frantically patted myself all over, stunned, and that was when I saw the blood stain spreading down the front on my shirt. The whispering grew to a crescendo all around me as that one shining light finally fizzled out and, in the darkness that swamped me, I felt hands clutching at my body, pulling me deeper into the black.


What did you think to this week’s writing prompt? Did you submit anything for it? Have you ever written any flash fiction before? I’d love to know what you think to my snippets and writing prompts, so feel free to sign up and let me know what you think below or leave a comment on my Instagram page. You can also follow Gillian Church and Horror Prompts to take part in the Weekly Writing Prompt challenge.

March Drabble Challenge: Teddy Bear

Horror PromptsGillian Church is hosting another horror drabble challenge: 31 prompts for 31 creepy tales throughout March. This time, we can decide on the length of the piece but I’m sticking to the 100-word default.

Can you do it?

The Prompt:
Teddy Bear

The Submission:
Dennis closed the wardrobe and turned back to his terrified son. “There’s nothing in there.”

“I saw it!” Nicholas bawled, hugging his teddy bear closely.

Dennis sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked his son’s hair. “Monster’s aren’t real, son. They can’t hurt you.”

With that, he left the boy to sleep but woke with a start when Nicholas’s screams echoed down the hallway.

Dennis burst into the room and flicked on the lightswitch. Nicholas was gone; all that was left was his teddy bear and a streak of blood that stopped at the open wardrobe door.


What did you think to the prompt for today’s drabble challenge? Did you submit anything for it? Have you ever written any flash fiction before? I’d love to know what you think to my snippets and writing prompts, so feel free to sign up and let me know what you think below or leave a comment on my Instagram page. You can also follow Gillian Church to take part in her Weekly Writing Prompt challenge.

March Drabble Challenge: Reveal

Horror PromptsGillian Church is hosting another horror drabble challenge: 31 prompts for 31 creepy tales throughout March. This time, we can decide on the length of the piece but I’m sticking to the 100-word default.

Can you do it?

The Prompt:
Reveal

The Submission:
Eric had been trembling when Sherry finally brought him to her dorm after weeks of going steady and making him wait.

They’d been going steady for a few weeks now, but she’d teased him by saying she wasn’t ready to go all the way yet, and now it was finally happening.

He sat on the edge of her bed as she lifted her dress over her head and was startled at the reveal of her naked body.

Boils pulsated across her creamy-white skin; some leaked pus as she ran her hands over them, licking her fingers at the taste.

“What’s wrong, babe?” she purred, her face splitting at the jaw. “Don’t you want me?”


What did you think to the prompt for today’s drabble challenge? Did you submit anything for it? Have you ever written any flash fiction before? I’d love to know what you think to my snippets and writing prompts, so feel free to sign up and let me know what you think below or leave a comment on my Instagram page. You can also follow Gillian Church to take part in her Weekly Writing Prompt challenge.

Weekly Writing Prompt: 30/03/2022

Gillian Church posts Writing Prompts every week on her Horror Prompts Instagram account and I like to take part with a few snippets and pieces of flash fiction.

The Prompt:
Unknown caller: You say you’ve found the perfect item to donate to the Museum of Oddities and Artefacts. Tell me more…

The Submission:
“Sorry, who is this?” Jameson asked, removing his pipe from his lips.

“Oh, this is Mr. Scratch from the Museum of Oddities and Artefacts.  Perhaps you’ve heard of us?”

“No?” Jameson said, puzzled. “I can’t say that I have.”

“I saw your listing on Facebook; that’s quite the intriguing trinket you have in your possession.”

Jameson glanced over at the dining table from his easy chair; the amphora had probably once been a shining black/gold but had been sun-bleached over the centuries. The remaining handle was chipped and brittle to the touch and the images and symbols that had once adorned the exterior was faded.

“May as I ask where you acquired it?”

“Well…” Jameson sighed. “That’s a…long story…”

“Let me be frank, Mr. Wolfe. My museum is very eager to display this piece, and we’re willing to offer you fair compensation for it.”

Jameson stared at the amphora, sweat dripping down his brow, reliving the blinding, burning light that had burst from the vase upon first removing its lid. Grace, Roberts, Donald…all burnt to charred, smouldering skeletons, with only him left standing.

I shall give you life! the demonic smoke-demon had cooed, swirling around his head, drifting up his nostrils. Life…and health…their lives for yours…

A wisp of mist wafted from the cracks in the amphora and Jameson gulped back a shaking breath. “I…I’m sorry…it’s….it’s not for sale…”


What did you think to this week’s writing prompt? Did you submit anything for it? Have you ever written any flash fiction before? I’d love to know what you think to my snippets and writing prompts, so feel free to sign up and let me know what you think below or leave a comment on my Instagram page. You can also follow Gillian Church and Horror Prompts to take part in the Weekly Writing Prompt challenge.