I tried to sell my soul to the Devil once.
He told my my asking price was too high.
Big Stories in Two Little Sentences
I tried to sell my soul to the Devil once.
He told my my asking price was too high.
In order to stop my four-year-old son from swearing, I told him that with every curse a fluffy kitten dies. Our back garden is now littered with tiny graves, but the boy has got to learn about consequences.
With the last two bites, the tendons severed. He was free.
As Jay introduced the guest, he had forgotten the new moive , the scandalous internet posts, and the new boyfriend who was the “one”. Instead he decided to talk to the actual person, it was the worst reviews he had ever gotten.
A few days after her funeral, he was heading to pick the kids up from school when he got a call.
It said “Don’t worry honey, I got them”.
So one day, I accidentally cut my finger and blood started oozing out, and dripping on the floor. Like always, my polite housekeeper asked, “Sir, can I finish your leftovers”?
I breathed a sigh of relief as the madman ceased his relentless pursuit.
The last thing I heard before I hit the ground was his loud, triumphant laughter.
Sam and Louise were in the living room, standing on their heads. They should have read the CC&R before buying this condo.
She intended to live forever or die trying. But with the woods being so lovely, dark, and deep she couldn’t resist.
It was a dark and stormy night filled with ghosts, witches, hobgoblins, skeletons, werewolves, frankensteins, draculas and headless horsemen. They were really scary and made me run home and quickly climb into my bed, only to find it had turned into a coffin with a hideous cackling mummy inside it.
He regularly gave all other Two Sentence Stories entries low ratings in order to boost his own score, but one morning awoke to find that all his own stories had only two stars. Unable to face this horrific turn of events, he hurled himself into binge of cyber-hate culminating in a Youtube comment spree which quickly degenerated into a series of shameful racist rants.
I paused at a crossroads on a cool, quiet moonlit night. The sign said stop, but his kiss said go.
I couldn’t sleep, so I turned on my nightlight.
Only to see an unfamiliar shadow suddenly disappear.
He beat me senseless, pummeling his hard, huge fists into my face until I was unrecognizable.
He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I love you, son.”
I walked through the dark, unfamiliar woods.
I stopped to take a breath, only to hear two footsteps behind me…
I was standing in my bathroom, naked, unsure of how I got there… when I looked down at the tub and saw myself in the tub, my wrists sliced open…
The tiny creatures came through the rift from another universe. They look funny, with only four limbs and single head, but they taste great.
I woke up at 3am and found my brother staring at me while sitting on the edge of his bed. The blanket behind him moved and I saw that underneath those sheets was my real brother.
As I watched the eyeless apparition stare off into space, I couldn’t help but ask, “What are you staring at?”.
It smiled and extended its mangled arms, reaching for something as it whispered, “The Reader.”
I don’t know how long I’ve been down here, but the battery in my phone died some time ago. My only chance of escape is finding where the whispers are coming from.