This month, the Emperor Grapevine staff was tasked with submitting their best scary story for Halloween.  The catch?  It had to be 200 words or fewer.  Here are some of the best stories submitted.  Prepare yourself for chills, thrills, and a whole lot of creativity.

“NIFLHEIM”  by Eric Andrade

“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, this is Starship One. Something is pulling us towards planet Niflheim, over!” screams Pilot James.

A tentacle is covering the cockpit windshield. BOOM!. Crashing into the Antarctic tundra, the explosion’s heat melts the snow.

“Ah, my leg!” groaned Pilot Arthur. Getting up, he goes to check on James, but it is too late; he has succumbed to his injuries.

Scavenging all the resources Arthur could find, he heads out to check for more survivors. He limps out; no survivors can be seen, panels torn, lights flickering, and debris littered all over the floor. A cold breeze sets in, and Arthur begins to shiver, and his muscles start to contract; he can feel someone or something’s presence. A low moan echo from the outside, it went silent…  “CRASH!” In a split second, the ship is torn in half. Frozen in horror by the sight that is upon him, sky-carper-sized, translucent skin, squid-like appearance, and it’s already too late. 

A harmonized sound begins to pierce Aruther’s ears. “HMMMM!, OHHHHH!, AHHHHH!” It’s some form of chanting. Arthur begins to get pulled up and starts descending into the monster’s mouth, slowly becoming crystallized, sealing his fate.

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“Frozen Whisper” by Heidi Belknap

Snow hisses against the cabin walls like whispers trying to get in. Emily crouched near the fire’s fading glow, her hands trembling above the last flickers of orange. The air bit through her layers, sharp and metallic, carrying the smell of pine and smoke. Her brother, Liam, had gone for wood hours ago.

Then–three slow knocks.

She froze. “Liam?” Her voice cracked in the stillness.

No answer.

Only the wind howled through the cracks like laughter. She opened the door an inch–nothing but white, endless, and shifting. Then she saw it: a single footprint in the snow, steam curling from it as though the ground exhaled.

She spun back toward the hearth. The fire was gone. Frost laced across the floorboards, racing toward her boots, glittering like tiny glass veins. In the frozen wood grain, she saw her brother’s face–eyes wide, lips cracked and blue.

“Liam?” she whispered.

A voice, soft and near her ear, breathed, “I told you not to let the fire die.”

By morning, the cabin stood still. Inside, two figures sat together by a dead hearth–ice blooming across their skin like flowers in the cold.

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” Snap!” by Kathryne Forbes

Awakened out of a deep sleep, she begins to move. Blinking against blinding light, she realizes she’s not in her bed. Strapped down to a chair connected to a conveyor belt, she sees a running chainsaw waiting at the end of the room. Her fingers are attached to a mechanical instrument that, with a small, sudden movement, will instantly snap a finger to the back of her hand.

Goosebumps rise on her skin from both fear and the freezing temperature around her. Her rapid breaths can be seen in the air as she struggles. A finger slips and is immediately displaced, snapping to her wrist. She screams a terrible and vile scream trapped far underground. 

“Let’s play a game, Lizzy,” boomed my voice from the intercom. Her tear-streaked face moves wildly; she knows exactly what this is. 

“Here are the rules,” I continue. “ The conveyor slows with every broken finger and will stop once all ten are broken. If the machine stops, you are free to leave. If not, you will be impaled and left to freeze. No one will know you are dead.”

She shudders, blood dripping from her hand.

“Are you up to the test, Liz?”

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“Alice in the Asylum” by Isabella Gonzalez

The floors of the asylum felt like ice on Alice’s bare feet, yet she kept walking. She needed to get to him, to Dr.Rat Bib. That horrible doctor, she thought as she dragged the axe on the ground.

That doctor who shoved needles and pills in me to ‘heal me,’ yet my mind feels more like a circus than a garden. But this is wrong, said the only sane part of her left. I shouldn’t do this.

Step by step, she continued, her mind a puzzle missing most of its pieces. Thump Thump went her feet as she drew closer to his office. The door was wide open, and a sickly yellow light shone through. 

There was the doctor with his pale skin, long white coat, and pants. His beige shoes squeaked against the floor as he opened a cabinet. He took out a bottle of pills.

For me, Alice thought. No more, no more ‘healing’, only madness remains inside my head.

She crept up to the doctor as he remained turned away from her. She raised the axe above her head as he turned around.

“Off with your head!” she screamed as the axe came down on his head. 

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“Waddle” by Jazlyn Jacobo

    A sheet of white fluffy snow spread across for miles. Adian zipped up his jacket and pulled it tighter against him as the wind blew in his face. He lost his walkie-talkie hours ago, leaving him stranded in miles of snow all alone, well, almost.

From a distance, a chinstrap penguin stood, staring at Adian with its glossy black, beaded eyes. It had been following him since that morning, his tiny feet leaving perfect prints in the snow. Adian tried his hardest to pay no attention to him, but he had this feeling that the bird was leading him somewhere. 

“Hey, little guy,” he said through chattering teeth. “Where are you taking me?” The penguin waddled towards a dark crack in the ice. Adian followed, desperate for shelter. However, when he looked down into the hole, his stomach dropped. Inside were dozens of penguins frozen solid, eyes wide open, staring at Adian. 

He stumbled back, the ground trembling beneath him. The penguin at his feet tilted its head, then whispered in a voice that wasn’t like anything he’d heard before, “You’re next.”

The ice gave way. The last thing Adian felt was the freezing water submerging him whole. 

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“Loners Are Never Noticed”  by Natalie Ramirez

I was thinking to myself how creepy these things were. Life-sized and disturbingly real. It was the eyes. Cold and distant. It’s what this place was most famous for. The performances involving these marionette puppets were strange and unsettling. 

“What do you think?” the theater host asked. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it. They’re so real,” I responded, keeping my eyes on one. Had tonight not been the first show I’ve seen, I would’ve sworn this puppet looked familiar. “How do you do it?”

“It takes great skill,” he said. “And careful planning. Can’t pick a popular one. Loners are never noticed.”

I was going to ask what he meant when I realized something. I recognized this puppet. While walking home, I saw a poster taped to the side of a building. A missing person’s poster. This puppet was identical to the girl in the picture. I shook my head. I was being paranoid. I wasn’t a fan of puppets. They made me uneasy, and I had found the show very disturbing. So disturbin,g I wished I had someone to bring with me. 

Loners are never noticed. 

The last thing I heard was the lock clicking. 

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“The Freezing” by Damian Zavala

The sun has arrived. The beginning of Friday, November 2, in the year 2001. Dawn is here. Unfortunately, so is the freezing. It’s everywhere in this small Indiana town of Harrison. The devastating terrorist attacks appeared out of nowhere a couple of months ago. Now, it’s their turn, facing the arrival of the horrid weather.

Henry Hancock and his sister, Shelby, dragged their lazy feet to the front door. From the moment the door flings open, the freezing impacts their bodies. Despite the fact that they are wearing their jackets, nothing gets the freeze away. His friends, Owen Putnam, Franklin Randolph, Warren Hendricks, and Jay Boone, are standing like ice poles in front of them. They walk to the school as snails and turtles, trying to survive the greatest terror they faced.

Suddenly, the school is trapped in its ice prison the minute they arrive. Then, they begin doing the same actual walk. This time, to their homes. All of a sudden, they stop and freeze, and then they become ice statues. Just then, someone came in the snowplow. It was their teacher, Miss Jennings. She lured the statues to her home. No one is safe from the horrific freezing anymore.

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“The Siren Call of The Cold Within”  by Jax Lopez

The frigid wind bites at Airu’s caramel skin as he walks through the forest, the scent of grass and flowers swirling around him. A sigh escapes, vapor misting before his face. 

“I didn’t even do anything… why am I punished when Lee was the one who messed up?” 

He mutters, frustrated, as he trudges on, the leaves crunching beneath his boots. 

Then- footsteps. He freezes. Turning, he faces a towering creature made of oozing black ink, its form scribbled and dripping. Tap. Tap. Tap. Whispers coiling around it, an eerie smile spreads across its face.

 “Airu…~” it calls, voice sickenly sweet. 

Airu runs, lungs burning.

 “They don’t want you…” the whispers taunt. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. It’s closer. 

“Come to the cold. The cold needs you.” 

Silence. Then- TAP. TAP. TAP. Right behind him. 

“The cold can make you warm,” it breathes. “They don’t accept you, but the cold does.” Its siren-like voice soothes. 

Something inside Airu fractures. Slowly, he stops fighting- sinking into the ink, becoming one with the monster. In the distance, he sees his lover, Bao, sobbing in fear at the sight of the monster. 

“Airu!” Bao screams out.

“Bao, I love you…” Airu mutters solemnly. 

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“The Frozen Watcher” by Staicy Urbano

An old lighthouse stood defiant against the stormy sea, its beam usually a comforting guide, which now felt like a need in the darkness. Inside Elias, the aging keeper, shivered not just from the cold seeping through the stone walls, but from a dread that had settled deep in his bones.

 Days ago, the temperature had dropped, and a strange frost had begun to bloom on the inside of the windows, forming swirling patterns. Then, the whispers started as a low, subtle sound carried along the wind. 

Tonight, the frost had taken a new form: a face, gaunt and pale, staring in at him with eyes of pure ice. He huddled by a stone, his body heat doing little to fight the supernatural chill. The face on the window shifted, a hand rising to tap against the glass. Elias knew with chilling certainty that the cold wasn’t just a temperature; it was a presence, a watcher, and it wanted in. The lighthouse, his sanctuary, had become his frozen tomb.