After hitting the final keystroke to end my short horror story, I took a glance over it before realizing it was perfect enough to send to the one best friend I have that enjoys reading any kind of works I come up with, Alex. I saved it and sent it to her over text. About ten minutes later, she got back to me.
"Was that me as a main character?" she asked. "The way you described her sounds just like me, the shoulder length red hair, the short and petite body."
"Okay, you got me," I replied. "I based the main character on you, but it was only because in my head, how the story played out couldn't have been anyone else."
"Well thanks, I'm flattered. But why did I have to die to the killer at the end?"
"I dunno. It's a horror story, there has to be a dark twist at the end."
"Anyways, I liked it. You should post it on your blog, it's really good."
"Thanks, I think I will."
I grabbed my laptop and went to me blog where I post all my terrifying works, everything I've dreamed up that I've been most proud of. I had to have at least thirty on there by now. I get a few people visiting to read the stories every now and then, but I haven't gathered much of a following. Not that I'm posting for the popularity anyway.
I clicked the 'Create Post' button, copy and pasted the story, and hit 'Post'. Shortly after, I felt tired, so I shut my laptop top and made my way over to my bed.
I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I took it out to check it. It was Alex, messaging me back.
"You named the story 'Alex's Downfall'?"
I shook my head, what was she talking about?
"No, I called it 'Killing for a Good Time'," I replied.
"That's not what your blog says."
I opened the internet app on my phone and typed in the name of my blog. I clicked on it and there it was, 'Alex's Downfall'.
"I swear I didn't type that," I said in a panic. "Somebody must've hacked my blog or something."
Alex was silent for a few minutes. I knew she didn't believe me. By why would I put her name in the title, the main character's name was Carmella.
My phone buzzed, it was Alex.
"Refresh the page."
I did as she asked and refreshed the page I had open with my story on it. I stared in horror as the the story had changed completely. I skimmed through it, to find the story featured me as the main character, even calling me out by my own name. It described the same situation I was just in, talking to Alex on the phone about my short story, all the way to me checking my phone in bed. I was beyond terrified.
"Is this some kind of joke?" she asked.
"No, I have no idea what's happening." I told her. "There's no way I would've been able to get this typed up so quickly, I'm in bed right now."
"You're in bed?" she asked. She sent another message and moment later, "Dude, read the ending."
I closed her message and went back to the story. At least I tried to, but the data suddenly being unavailable on my phone made it impossible.
I heard a noise from my closet door across the room, the door creaking open. Not a moment later, a dark figure stepped out and slithered its way across the room over to me.
The last thing I saw was the face of a deeply disturbing looking clown with a twisted grin on his face, tears streaming down his eyes, laughing hysterically. He had a hatchet in his hand. I shut my eyes as he swung the hatchet down toward me.
"Was that me as a main character?" she asked. "The way you described her sounds just like me, the shoulder length red hair, the short and petite body."
"Okay, you got me," I replied. "I based the main character on you, but it was only because in my head, how the story played out couldn't have been anyone else."
"Well thanks, I'm flattered. But why did I have to die to the killer at the end?"
"I dunno. It's a horror story, there has to be a dark twist at the end."
"Anyways, I liked it. You should post it on your blog, it's really good."
"Thanks, I think I will."
I grabbed my laptop and went to me blog where I post all my terrifying works, everything I've dreamed up that I've been most proud of. I had to have at least thirty on there by now. I get a few people visiting to read the stories every now and then, but I haven't gathered much of a following. Not that I'm posting for the popularity anyway.
I clicked the 'Create Post' button, copy and pasted the story, and hit 'Post'. Shortly after, I felt tired, so I shut my laptop top and made my way over to my bed.
I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I took it out to check it. It was Alex, messaging me back.
"You named the story 'Alex's Downfall'?"
I shook my head, what was she talking about?
"No, I called it 'Killing for a Good Time'," I replied.
"That's not what your blog says."
I opened the internet app on my phone and typed in the name of my blog. I clicked on it and there it was, 'Alex's Downfall'.
"I swear I didn't type that," I said in a panic. "Somebody must've hacked my blog or something."
Alex was silent for a few minutes. I knew she didn't believe me. By why would I put her name in the title, the main character's name was Carmella.
My phone buzzed, it was Alex.
"Refresh the page."
I did as she asked and refreshed the page I had open with my story on it. I stared in horror as the the story had changed completely. I skimmed through it, to find the story featured me as the main character, even calling me out by my own name. It described the same situation I was just in, talking to Alex on the phone about my short story, all the way to me checking my phone in bed. I was beyond terrified.
"Is this some kind of joke?" she asked.
"No, I have no idea what's happening." I told her. "There's no way I would've been able to get this typed up so quickly, I'm in bed right now."
"You're in bed?" she asked. She sent another message and moment later, "Dude, read the ending."
I closed her message and went back to the story. At least I tried to, but the data suddenly being unavailable on my phone made it impossible.
I heard a noise from my closet door across the room, the door creaking open. Not a moment later, a dark figure stepped out and slithered its way across the room over to me.
The last thing I saw was the face of a deeply disturbing looking clown with a twisted grin on his face, tears streaming down his eyes, laughing hysterically. He had a hatchet in his hand. I shut my eyes as he swung the hatchet down toward me.
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