A Short Horror Story In 50 Words
Many years ago I was asked to write a short horror story with a catch; it had to be no more or less than fifty words. I have no idea what the book was because I must have torn out my entry from it (clearly didn’t think much of the others) and stuck it behind some books. It’s not how I’d write it now, but here it is anyway:
Turnabout Is Fare Paid
The things in the tunnels of the London Underground sometimes appear at night. They hide beneath spiral staircases listening out for shoes on steel.
Hi-Top watched the last train pass before scrawling his band across the tiles. Drawn by the warmth of his tattooed skin, they studied each meticulous design. The hip-hop hid their scrabblings as they dragged him into inky darkness. Longlife batteries kept the music high as they stripped the hearts and daggers from him.
Next morning, commuters fainted as his skin congealed on tunnel walls. Fame for Hi-Top! Musically, he’d wanted to be all over London’s underground.