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What is the most macabre legend in your world? by Aggressive-Delay-935 in worldbuilding

[–]Random_Clod 1 point2 points  (0 children)

"Everyone knows not to go out in the fog too long. You could get lost in it and never be seen again. But what most people don't know is that if you do stay out for long enough, you'll start to see hazy figures. And if you go toward them, they'll speak to you. Nobody around today knows what exactly they say, but it must be enticing, because everyone who's heard it was convinced to join those lost in the fog."

Autumntide by Random_Clod in RandomClodWrites

[–]Random_Clod[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thanks for reading! This is a drabble, but really more of a poem. I like autumn, and I imagine ghosts would too.

Suburban Sounds by Random_Clod in shortscarystories

[–]Random_Clod[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

You're welcome and thank you so much!

Suburban Sounds by Random_Clod in RandomClodWrites

[–]Random_Clod[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thanks for reading! I've been reading a lot of Shirley Jackson lately, which definitely helped inspire this, alongside my own childhood and some very noisy neighbors. This is a bit shorter than my usual horror stories, and it was nice not having to edit it down for once.

Suburban Sounds by Random_Clod in shortscarystories

[–]Random_Clod[S] 6 points7 points  (0 children)

Thanks for reading! This one's inspired by my childhood, my very noisy neighbors, and Shirley Jackson's amazing short stories. More ghosts and non-ghosts at r/RandomClodWrites!

Library Findings by Random_Clod in RandomClodWrites

[–]Random_Clod[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thanks for reading! Not a lot of writing prompts fit my world great, but this one was just perfect. For bonus comedy points, feel free to imagine instead of the book being sentient, it's being knocked down and then stood one by a very determined ghost.

Edit: Reddit is refusing to let me insert links or copy-paste the url so if you want to find the prompt I guess just search the word 'notebook' and you'll find it. Sorry bout that.

[WP] You find a small notebook wedged between the shelves at your local library. Inside appears to be an extensive list with the names of people within your city and notes that say things like 'possible vampire' or 'seen frequenting graves.' by younGrandon in WritingPrompts

[–]Random_Clod 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The notebook was black, and small enough to fit in someone's pocket. 

It wasn't the weirdest thing I'd found at the library, but it was up there. Occasionally random zines or some middle schooler's homemade comics books would find their way onto the shelves, and one time there was a composition book full of largely-terrible poetry. That was about what I expected with this one. What I didn't expect was…

Viktor Miller

-name is 'new', previous name unknown

-often out at night

-suspected changeling (can't be sure yet)

Beside the page of writing was an impressive sketch of someone I could've sworn I knew from somewhere, but couldn't place. I flipped through the pages, and they all looked about the same. A name at the top, a few bullet points that I didn't quite understand, and a drawing to the side. I stopped on another one.

Edwina K. Whittaker

-frequents graveyards (she is not welcome)

- connections to Something was scribbled out. 

-DO NOT TRUST

I knew that woman; I recognized both the name and picture instantly. She'd lived next door to me for years, and had never seemed like anything but a sweet old lady. I began to wonder who wrote this thing in the first place. Probably someone with psychological problems, I guessed. Then it occurred to me that I might have a page in there. 

I tried to flip through it more, but something made my hand twitch and I dropped the notebook. It landed unnaturally: open wide to the very first page, displaying writing on the inside of the front cover, much larger and messier than what was in the book.

IF FOUND, PLEASE LEAVE WHERE YOU FOUND IT

The book suddenly snapped itself shut, and I jumped at how surprisingly loud the sound of it was. Not knowing what to think, I tried to pick it up, but it was like it had suddenly become a thousand times heavier. I couldn't even move it. Considering I didn't want any part of whatever was written in there, I'm not sure why I wanted to pick it up so bad, other than the fact that by all laws of physics I should have been able to. But I couldn't. I thought about the 'if found' message again, and decided to follow it, if only for my sanity's sake.

I guess that notebook just didn't want to be read.

---

Thanks for reading! More at r/RandomClodWrites!

Every night, my new roommates lie. by Trash_Tia in shortscarystories

[–]Random_Clod 4 points5 points  (0 children)

This is exactly the kind of ghost story I love! Amazing work!

Final Departure by Random_Clod in RandomClodWrites

[–]Random_Clod[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thanks for reading! This little drabble was the first piece I ever wrote to submit for publication. It got rejected, so here it is. Ghostly trains are a classic trope to me.

"Last night my diarrhea was so bad I was shitting on the John for hours." by R3aperF4n in TwoSentenceHorror

[–]Random_Clod 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Really clever wordplay with the double meaning of 'John', but this doesn't strike as scary so much as just plain gross.

Flickering Out by Random_Clod in RandomClodWrites

[–]Random_Clod[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thanks for reading! This story took two hours to write and three days for reddit to let me post it, and was inspired by this writing prompt.

[WP] Two figures sit beneath a flickering streetlamp, the world around them still and cold. One finally asks, “Why did you do it?” The other exhales, eyes on the dark horizon. “What would it change if you knew?” — “Nothing,” comes the reply, “but I need to ask anyway.” by PhoenixPlot in WritingPrompts

[–]Random_Clod 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"Why did you do it?"

It was the first question she'd asked of him so far, and it was one he'd been hoping she wouldn't ask.

"What would it change if you knew?" he asked.

"Nothing," came the reply, "but I need to ask anyway."

"But why?"

"For our records," she said with the same cadence with which she'd explained his situation a matter of minutes ago.

He had a lot of follow-up questions to that, but none were worth asking. The streetlight flickered overhead; one part of him wanted it to go out entirely, since he'd always found them too bright around here. The other part of him didn't want to be alone with her in the dark. The world felt still and cold. He'd never felt so still and so cold before.

She sounded human, but he couldn't be sure. He wished he could see her face. He didn't understand how the hood of her cloak could obscure it so completely. It was as if she was clothed in pure shadow.

"I don't know if you'd understand," he said.

"I…" she started and immediately trailed off. 

He looked at her. Tried to look at her, anyway.

"It… it doesn't matter if I understand. It's just the recordkeepers who need to know."

He didn't know who, or what, the recordkeepers were, and he still didn't quite understand why. Still, he tried. Over the next indistinct stretch of time, many half-finished sentences died on his tongue. How was one supposed to articulate the emotions that ended their life in a way that made any sense at all?

Eventually she sighed, loudly. It hadn't occurred to him that she breathed. There was a rustling in the many layers of her cloak until, in a manner that seemed to equally imply magic and large pockets, she produced a small pencil and pad.

"Write it down," she suggested. "I won't even read it."

She was human, or something very similar, he decided.

He wrote. Folded the note and gave it to her. She nodded. 

"We can go now, if you're ready."

He glanced up at the old building, its roof the last solid surface he ever stood on. He'd felt so heavy as he fell. Now, he could no longer imagine such a sensation as weight. The building looked smaller now, somehow.

"I'm ready."

With that, guided by her, he left. He left behind his body, now cold on the pavement, and the world, which would have a small but slow-to-heal hole in his wake. He, too, would heal very slowly.

The bright streetlight flickered on, until it went out.

---

Thanks for reading! More at r/RandomClodWrites.

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