Horror Short Stories

“Come on. We’re almost there.” Oliver informs his friends as they trek through the silent, rickety forest floor. The leaves and sticks crunch under their shoes.

Night has fallen. The moon, shining in its waxing, crescent state, providing little but enough light to see ahead of them. Alyssa was clutching to her boyfriend’s arm in a death-like grip, her stomach doing a series of somersaults as they walked closer to the supposedly haunted diner.

“It’s alright. There’ll be nothing to worry about. You know Oliver likes a good scare.” Thomas whispered so only Alyssa could hear.

“I know. But doesn’t change the fact that I’m nervous hell.” Alyssa sighed.

“Just stay by my side, you’ll be okay.” He assured her, Alyssa gave him a small smile. But she was still worried.

When Oliver had told them about the place, apparently the head cook there ran the place. Many people loved his food, but then one day, an inspector came in; who pointed out all the wrong things in such a rude manner to the cook. This put him in such a fit of rage, that he called for a secondary inspection, insisting that he’d have the problems fixed.

But when the inspector came, the lights were turned off. And there wasn’t even a single sound. When he turned to leave, knowing this was a waste of time, the lock to the door turned with a ‘click’. There, the head cook’s sillouette stood, Henry King.

Neither said words. Henry didn’t give him a chance to. As he raised his chef’s knife, poised over his target, and in a flash, the gush of steel slashed into the inspector’s flesh. His screams echoed through diner, as the blade continuously repeatedly stabbed into his skull and chest.

Henry had thought that was the end. He had destroyed all possible evidence. But that night changed Henry, making him more stern and angry. One small mistake could mean murder- for his staff, or customers even.

Before his ultimately gruesome death, he had in fact, killed seven people. Which all happened to be his co-workers. His end came at exactly 12:00. Midnight. The police were sent to investigate the murders, catching Mr. King in the act of cleaning up.

“Stop! Put your hands behind your head, and step away from the body!” The officer yelled. He obeyed the officer, turning around with his hands placed behind his head.

“Good. Now get down on the ground.” Henry grinned at the officer, taking a step forward. “I said get down!” He took another step forward. “Get down or I will shoot!”

At this Henry, stopped. Staring at the armed, blue-uniformed man, he smirked, pulling his arm down to brandish his chef’s knife, dripping in blood.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Ever since that night, Chef Henry King’s ghost, remained in the diner and its vicinity. He murdered anyone who crossed onto his property, mostly due to his general anger, with his knife. Slashing at anyone, no matter their gender or ethnicity.

• • •

“Here it is.” Oliver stepped out from the covert protection of the trees, and there it stood. The diner. Abandoned, and ever-so... silent and creepy looking.

Alyssa shivered as a cool wind whispered around them. “Okay. We’ve seen the diner, maybe we should head back now.” Alyssa nervously comments.

“Oh don’t be a sour puss. We haven’t even been inside yet.” Oliver laughs, taking this whole thing as a light-hearted joke.

Alyssa sighed, staying close to Thomas as the group of four ventured towards the diner.

There was no wind, no stir of a bird or scittering critters owning up the run down place. There was a thick silence, creating an uneasy feeling in the pits of their stomachs.

As they approached the main entrance, a brief rattling sounded by the garbage bins, startling the group. Inside the diner, well, it was empty. Save for a few tables and the counter.

“Okay. How about we split up, and search the place?” Oliver suggested, looking back at his friends.

“Are you crazy?” Alyssa scoffed at the idea, “You know, that’s exactly how people die in horror movies.”

“Pssht. This isn’t a horror movie, is it?”

Alyssa sighs. Thomas squeezes her shoulders in a soft, comforting manner. “Alright, how about we go in twos? You and Janice. And then me and Alyssa?”

“Alright. Sounds good.” Oliver nods, leading himself and Janice into the kitchens. Alyssa and Thomas explored around the storage rooms and office.

There were a few pictures of the owner on the walls, they were covered in dust- as with everything else in the office, but it was still visible, barely. It showed a middle-aged, hefty man, dressed in a chef’s tunic and hat.

“This must be the chef guy.” Alyssa pointed out to Thomas, who wondered over, looking at the photo.

“Yeah. He doesn’t look like a killer.”

“Do any of them really, though?” Alyssa points out with an amused chuckle.

“True, true. Wonder how many people had sex in here.” Thomas comments, looking around the small, but cozy room.

“Oh, gross Tommy!” Alyssa laughs, shoving him playfully.

“What? You don’t like sex?” Thomas teases.

“No. I like sex. But, I don’t want to think about that in a scary, abandoned place like we’re in now.” Thomas chuckles and kisses Alyssa, holding onto her waist as he lifts her up onto the desk.

She tugs on his hair, making him moan in her mouth. As their hands explored their bodies, they become stuck in passionate make out session, forgetting about the diner.

Oliver and Janice walked hand-in-hand through the kitchen. Their footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor. “Gee. This place is a dump.” Oliver commented as he surveyed the bland, run down kitchen.

“Yeah. It’s probably for the best that the chef died.” Janice adds. As they reached the door at the end, a flurry of pots were knocked to the ground. Creating a loud, clanging sound.

The two jumped back, looking behind them, but saw no one. Their hearts thundering wildly in their chests. “Maybe we just bumped into something.” Janice says, trying anything to calm her racing heartbeat as she clutched onto Oliver securely.

“Or maybe it’s just Thomas and Alyssa fucking with us.” Oliver chuckles, shaking his head. “Come on.” As Oliver grasped the door handle, his body suddenly slammed up against the door.

A muttered curse fell out of his mouth. “AAAGH!” Janice screeched, stumbling back. “O-Oliv...er. Y-you, you’re bleeding. Oh my god.” She reached out to help him, but another slash was made, tearing across his back.

Janice screamed again, “Oliver! Oh my god!” She grabbed a knife hanging from a rack, and brandished it to the invisible being attacking Oliver. Whom now lay crumpled on the ground. Horrid, wide slash marks across his chest, blood spurting and gushing everywhere and pooling in a warm mess underneath him.

“Jan-ice... run. Get the others, and get, the fuck, out.” He gritted out in pain. Janice nodded and took off, knowing she couldn’t save him, and if she tried, they’d all end up dead. She ran through the back, and ending up outside.

“Thomas! Alyssa!” She yelled, she ran around frantically. But she was stopped in front of the trash can. A bloodied looking, pale chef stood in her path. An evil grimace on his face with a blood-soaked Chef’s knife. He wore his usual Chef’s attire that is stained with blood, both old and new.

She gulped.

“AHHH!!”

Splish!

“What was that?” Alyssa looked at Thomas, he stopped thrusting his pelvis against her as they listened. A second scream came, both times it were Janice.

“Oh shit.” Thomas pulled his pants up, Alyssa doing the same as they ventured out of the office. Both of them were quaking, Alyssa desperately clung to Thomas, frantically looking all around.

“Ohmigod... it’s Oliver.” Thomas looked across the kitchen floor, at his best friend lying in a motionless heap, soaking in his blood. He shook his head, tears pricking his eyes.

“Come on. Let’s go find Janice.” When they didn’t find her inside the diner, they searched outside.

When they reached around the back, there they saw Janice’s body. Brutally slashed, a dark pool spreading around her on the concrete. They stared at her body agape, and then they saw him, the Chef. Standing over her body with a wicked grin, a chef’s knife in his hand, literally dripping, with his victim’s blood.

“Run. Let’s go Alyssa!” Thomas tugged at her, they turned and ran. Running as far and fast as their legs and frightened heartbeats could carry them. They didn’t stop. Didn’t turn back. By the time they finally had reached the other end of the woods, they realized that the sun was finally coming up.

They were safe.

Alyssa sighed in relief, hugging Thomas, tears stinging her eyes in sorrow and joy. But as they pulled away, there he was. The chef.

“Noo!!” He raised his knife, raining the blade down upon them, slashing them as he did their friends. They lie crumpled, pale, hands entwined, just barely on the forest’s edge.

The Chef was merciless in his killings, careful to never leave a witness, even in death. . .