Short Horrors

A compilation of short stories, that are, shiver, shaking, and scream inducing. Have fun...


2. The Funfair

Candyfloss. Rainbows. Unicorns.

These visions fill my mind as the lights strobe in front of my eyes.

"So this is the funfair!" I squeal, as I skip along, with my pink fluffy unicorn in my arms, and my dad trudging along behind me.

"Don't go to far, or I'll lose you!"

"Don't worry dad, I'll be-" Just then I bumped into a clown, who was holding a bunch of balloons.

"Whoopsie!" He crowed in a comical voice, "Better watch where you're going Princess!"

"Thanks Mr. Clown!" I yelled, getting up and dancing. "Look Daddy, I met a clown." My dad seemed a little weary as he said,

"Yes, dear. I'm going to go and get a hotdog. Have fun with your new... clown friend." He cast one dodgy look towards the clown, and shuffled off, shoulders drooped. I wheeled to face the clown, who had a large smile on his face.

"You want a balloon?" he asked, somewhat spontaneously.

"Um..." I wasn't sure. He only had round balloons, and not those funny flying doggy ones.

"Can you make me a flying doggy?" I asked, hopefully.

"Sure can, Princess!" He laughed, and I giggled back, as he pulled a small tank and a pink balloon from the inside of his waistcoat.

"What's your name?" I asked, as he pumped the balloon.

"My name is Mr. Giggles," he replied, and started to twist the balloon into a shape. I watched in wonder, as he tied a string to the doggy's foot, and handed it to me. "For my little Princess," he chuckled. I squealed in delight, and he went in for a hug. I opened my arms to him, and everything went fuzzy. The lights bloomed and popped in my vision. I swayed on the spot and fell. The last thing I remember was the clown smiling down at me. "Sweet dreams," he giggled.


I felt the problem before I saw it.  I couldn't move my fingers and toes, and my face felt raw and scratchy. The corners of my mouth were sore. I inched my eyes open, and saw my grizzled reflection staring back at me. No wonder my mouth was sore, as it has been extended, a huge slice right through each of my cheeks, right up to my ear lobes, my lips flopping down over my chin with no control. A permanent smile. My eyes had had the first layer of flesh removed on and around the eyelid, in a gruesome crusty red eye paint. Blood had been swirled on my cheeks, in a comical blush. And all of my teeth had been pulled out, thick gloopy blood running down my sagging lip and onto my trembling chin. The mirror was ripped out of the way, and there was Mr. Giggles, an arm round my dad, who had had the same thing done to him.

"How do you like your new look, Princess?" he asked, a large smile set upon his face. It was all I could do, to tilt my head, and cough blood and saliva all over his shoes.

"We'll continue with the procedure then," he spat, pulling a tray gleaming with hack saws, knifes, and scissors over to my bed-side. I struggled, but I was tied too tightly. I started kicking my legs as the clown, now in wheezing hysterics, approached the end of my bed with a hatchet.

"Stay still now, Princess, or this won't be as fun!" he cackled, and my dad immediately went to secure my legs. The clown raised the hatchet. My last thought, was the statement: 'If only people could fear all clowns the way I fear this one...'

The hatchet buried halfway into my ankle.


I screamed.

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