300 Horror Writing Prompts
Book is written by Julie Wenzel
Prompt # 28
Prompt- The monster locks eyes with mine. Nothing I do allows me to pull away from his gaze. I am completely paralyzed with no voice to scream with.
My Short Story
I sit at my desk, staring at the computer, the blank page yelling at me to put something on it. I sigh hard, my lips making a funny sound as I push my chair away from the computer. I need to find something new to write about but what? I tap my finger on the desk while I try to think about my recent story. I need an unknown monster to write about but what kind of monster? The monsters that lurk in the closets or under the bed have all been done nearly to death. What other monsters are there to write about?
I make the funny sounds with my lips again as I pull myself back to the computer and this time open the Internet to find my monster. I type in monsters in the search bar and hit enter, waiting for the results to show up. I swing my legs around making the chair also swing back and forth until the screen jumps to life. I stop moving as soon as hundreds of results spring up before my eyes, a few pictures catching my attention. I click on article after article but none of the monsters really gripped my heart. I want, no need, a monster that grips my heart to make me want to craft a fresh horror story around them.
I then scroll through the images but again nothing jumps out at me until almost the last picture of a strange monster pops up. Eyes as dark as cement, a smile only his mother could love, and a tall skinny body with extremely long arms. He has short stubby fingers and feet that are too big for his frame.
“Well hello there,” I say as I click on the picture to enhance it. “What is your name?”
I look for the name so I can start doing more research about him but don’t see the name at first. Finally, I spy the name and grin. Emberclaw! I pull close a new notebook from the stack that sits on the left side of my desk. On the first clean page, I write down the name and begin to look up more information about Everclaw. Confusion crosses my face as I don’t find a lot of information is present on the monster. “Well then, how am I going to write a story about him?”
I write down the little of what I had found about the Emberclaw. I then look at the picture and begin to giggle. “What a funny name for a monster who doesn’t even have claws.”
But wanting to stay true to how the monster looks, I pull up the blank page from before and type up a title that I can work with for now and type up my first character, a young woman with deep lavender eyes, a very rare trait, and naturally curly hair. I write a scene building up to where I want to bring in Emberclaw. But how am I going to write a story around this monster? All I have found is that the monster doesn’t have claws, its eyes are the color of cement and it kills anyone who murders others.
A monster that brings its own justice in a way but still considered a monster as it not only kills the murder but will also kill whoever was getting murdered at the time. I stop typing and sit back, coming up empty-handed again. How do I write this story? I nod my head and write again, deciding to prolong the entrance of the monster longer, hoping that an idea will pop into my head as I continue introducing some more characters to the story.
Behind me, the floor creaks as if someone is walking around but I pay it no mind. My roommate must be home finally after going to a party. She had invited me but I of course said no since I needed to write a new book or at least get an idea for my new book and start writing a bit of it.
I hear her door open then close and the sounds of her giggling while the bed creaks as I assume she sits down on it. I roll my eyes then reread what I have written so far. A crash from my roommate’s room makes me jump nearly out of my skin and I leap out of my chair to go check on her since it didn’t sound like a good sound.
I rush out of my room and over to her door, knocking, “Hannah? Are you okay in there?”
I hear what sounds like a strangled cry for help from the other side of the closed door. I try the handle but it refuses to turn in my hand, indicating that something is jamming the door to keep it closed. Hannah and I agreed that there would be no locks on our bedroom doors in case there was ever an emergency. I press my ear to the door where I can hear Hannah struggling with whoever she had brought home with her from the party. I ram my body against the door and feel it give a little, whatever on the other side moving forward. I ram my body against it again, the dresser that had been propped up against the door, toppling over and allowing me to enter just as I hear the window shatter.
I shove the door open and freeze when I see the monster I am trying to write about, standing beside the window, his eyes shining even though they seem dull. How can his eyes glow when they look like bricks of cement? I will have to remember that when I write my story but again will I get to since he is here? Will he kill me?
The monster locks his dark cement colored eyes with mine as I look him over. I try to pull my gaze from him but nothing I do allows me to look away from his startling comforting gaze. I feel my heart pounding in my chest and hear my blood rushing in my ears but I also do not feel like I am in any danger. I am completely paralyzed to the spot, unable to cry or scream or even utter a single word. But someone else in the room still could scream and the man who has been stabbing my poor roommate does just that. I cringe when I hear the wanna-be murderer bellow out in fear and takes a few stumbling steps back towards me.
The sound breaks our trance with one another and the Emberclaw turns his attention to the screaming man. I see that the man is coming towards me, the bloody knife now pointing at me. He motions for me to move out of his way so he can escape but I don’t.
“You hurt, Hannah,” I growl at him. “Now the Emberclaw is here to hurt you!” I grab the closest thing to me and hurl some glass figurine of a duck that was laying beside the toppled dresser at him, hoping to hit the man.
Distracted, the man dodges the flying duck while Emberclaw slinks up behind him. Emberclaw grabs the man’s wrist as the man tries to use the knife on me and lifts the man into the air as if he weighs nothing. The man turns to face the monster, screaming and yelling as the Emberclaw shakes him violently around like a rag doll.
I step back to give the towering monster room as he bares his gruesome mustard yellow teeth in a lopsided grin that he directs at me. I bow slightly to show the beast my respect before I turn and carefully pick my way out of the room. I stand out in the hallway, listening to the shouting and growling followed by the distinct sounds of tearing off limbs. I make a face, wondering if any of our neighbors can hear the loud noises or if Everclaw has some special gift that makes the noises undetectable by those not involved with what is happening.
Once it has grown quiet in the room, I walk back inside to see Everclaw holding his strangely formed hand over Hannah’s mouth and nose. I don’t yell out or intervene as my roommate takes her last struggled breath, a tear sliding down her bloody cheek.
I perch myself on the fallen dresser, watching as the Emberclaw lets Hannah’s face go, her head falling to one side, her eyes staring at nothing. He walks over to the bloody pile that used to be the guy Hannah had brought over and grunts as he stares down at the mess he made, grinning from ear to ear. I watch him and notice that his fur is actually a nice shade of ember, which is maybe a part of why his name is Ember.
“Why do you kill the victims, Emberclaw?” I ask, my eyes never leaving the creature’s form, not feeling afraid of being so close to him.
In a gutter-raspy voice, Emberclaw answers me, his eyes now on me, “I used to let them live. They either get locked up, become a murderer themselves so they can try to catch to me to make others believe them, or end up committing suicide.” He takes in a few rattly breaths, “So I kill them too so they do not suffer from the trauma nor try to harm me.”
I nod then look down at Hannah, “And what about eyewitnesses? What do you do with them?” I look back up to find Emberclaw towering over me, the grin still on his face.
Without a word, he grabs me around the waist and leaps back out of the broken window into the night.