Blood. It decorates the walls in rain drop layers and pools around the floors, drowning every inch of it in slippery red liquid. It stains and dries, but never goes away. It cannot be washed away or hidden.
It trickles down the stairs in a river, covering every thing around it. "Your gonna need a lot of bleach to rid at least a surface layer of that blood." The boy comments beside you, staring at the scene of the massacre.
The one that you caused.
"Or you could always take the easy way out if you don't wanna face life in prison." He adds, handing you a gun.
You shoot him in the head and leave him to wither and die.
"I ain't no coward. I'll take take my chances with the blood and bleach." You laugh like a maniac, but stop as you hear sirens. Or not.
YOU ARE READING
Short scary stories.
Horrorthese are just some stories that I've been inspired to write after reading books like 31 Creepy words and other short horror stories, by ShaunAlen. These stories should make a shiver creep up your spine and make your blood run cold. None of these s...
