2020 Spooky Story Contest Best in Show

Happy Halloween from Old Town Books! Earlier this week, we hosted a live conclusion to our inaugural spooky story writing contest. After working on their pieces of flash fiction throughout the month of October, with the help of some Instagram prompts along the way, contest participants were invited to take part in a live Zoom event. The top five finalists performed readings of their pieces for the gathered audience, who then voted to declare a winner. Congratulations to Sarah Strunk and her story “Henry” for taking the title of top spooky story! Read on to see excerpts from all five finalists and use the link below to read the whole pieces. Stay safe, stay spooky, and have fun!

+ "Henry" by Sarah Strunk (Overall Winner)

Excerpt: “Hellooo?” I rung the bell on the front desk repeatedly until I heard Mama’s voice in the back of my head saying, “Young lady, stop that now!” but even still, there was no answer. My gaze shifted beyond the bell and over the counter until it landed on a little brown stool covered in faded black leather. I can picture it now, Welcome to the World’s Fair Hotel. How may I help you? I slowly looked around to make sure no one was watching. Yes, we have a room available. I opened the side partition and tiptoed behind the counter. Please fill out our guest book. The chair welcomed me. Soft foam squished under my skirt, my weight pressing on the four rickety legs, rusty springs pinching my rear.

“May I help you?” his voice came from out of nowhere. Startled, I stood up, knocking over the stool. A tall man in a black suit was staring at me.

“I saw your sign in the window. I’d like the job.” He started laughing.

“You’re a child. Where are your parents?”

“It says, ’No experience required’ and I’m a hard worker. I have an older brother, so I know how to deal with difficult guests. I know how to read and write, my cursive is the best in my class, and I am not a child. I’m almost 15 years old and I would like this job.”

“You have a fiery spirit indeed. What’s your name?”

“Isabella. Isabella Wright.” I stated confidently, hiding my quivering knees behind the desk.

“Well, Isabella, are you starting now? You seem to already be in your position.” His sarcasm surprised me. Did I really get the job? A smile broke free, spreading across my face like butter, my body unable to hold back the excitement. The man came closer to shake my hand just as my brother burst through the door.

“There you are! Mama is going to whip us if we’re late for dinner again!” I leapt through the partition.

“I didn’t catch your name, Sir!”

“Henry Howard Homes.”

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes! I’ll be here after school tomorrow!” And with that, we ran home, my brother’s feet pounding on the cobblestone, but I flew.

Meet the Author: Sarah Stunk is currently a junior at George Mason University studying film and screenwriting. This is her first submission in a creative writing contest but has always had a passion for telling stories. She hopes you enjoy her spooky piece!

+ "A Face You've Seen Before" by Julia Kennedy (Finalist)

Excerpt: This morning the mountain was misty, making the landscape look like a desaturated photograph. Leaves were changing on the trees giving a pop of fall color to the expansive evergreen view. On the other side of the mountain nestled in the valley was what people actually meant by ‘in town.’ The state college put Jonesboro on the map, but with the kids on fall break this week it was quieter than usual. Normally the quiet wouldn’t bother Jen, she liked living in a small town, but the quiet felt eerie lately.

The college had its own legacy of dark secrets, but with this fall came an even darker one. Jen hadn’t been able to dig up much. The Jonesboro police department was a good-ol’-boys club and the Sheriff wasn’t making public statements. The only thing anyone knew for certain was that children in town were going missing.

Her house may have been hit by a toddler tornado, but Jen’s office was impeccably organized, even when dealing with a story that lended itself diving deep into research rabbit holes. Not to say it was all work scattered around, plenty of smiling photos and colorful scribbles made it onto the bulletin board. A majority of Henry’s artwork was centered around his imaginary friend, “Duckins,” that featured an almost anthropomorphic grinning face, a pale yellow body and brown feet.

“My guy at the sheriff’s office said there is going to be some kind of news today about the missing kids” Jen’s boss, Mr. Coleman, said leaning into her office.

Jen snapped her head up with a sharp inhale, surprised to hear her boss’ voice break the quiet stillness of the office.

Meet the Author: Julia Kennedy (she/her) is an artist, writer, and jill-of-all-trades creative. You’ll find her in the kitchen trying new recipes, DIY-ing any and all things, and taking photos of her cats. You can follow her work on instagram at @jskartworks.

+ "Squeaky Clean Sammi" by Michael Leonberger (Finalist)

Excerpt: Sammi sat with her bare feet perched on the black metal railing of her balcony, wearing a small black dress and tensely squeezing a paperback in her palms. She was young and endearingly mousy, with curious brown eyes, anxiously lost to whatever ghostly romance she was reading.

Suddenly, the front door slammed somewhere behind her and she jumped, kicking her feet above her head as though she’d fallen from a great height.

“Eric?” she called out, and he called back in confirmation.

Good. Eric was home.

As roommates went, Eric wasn’t so bad – although their living situation was bizarre.

Eric hadn’t been her original roommate. That dubious honor had gone to a sweet, young redhead named Belladonna who Sammi had met in a group online – just another lost soul looking for an affordable apartment. It turned out she was a kind, gorgeous, loveable neat freak with a silky smile and dewdrop eyes, and Sammi had fancied her -- even though she’d never worked up the courage to say so out loud.

She’d thought about asking her out, but that secret crush had been wounded a few months later when Belladonna had invited her boyfriend, Eric, to move in with them, too.

More wounding still was when, shortly thereafter, Belladonna had suddenly died.

Meet the Author: Michael Leonberger is a writer and a teacher from Virginia, where he currently lives with his wife and their pet bearded dragon.

+ "The Honeymoon Suite" by Jen Miller (Finalist)

Excerpt: I find myself staring into this field of nightmares as my dumplings catch fire in the 1970s era microwave. The acidic smoke wafts outside though the open door. I ponder how many people have killed themselves in this room, or how many bodies are in that overgrown field next to the highway.

I laugh into the emptiness.

My imagination had gotten away with me again. I do fancy myself a writer sometimes.

My choices of accommodations in this small coastal town in North Florida were extremely limited.

Nevertheless, I have to be honest, I wasn’t expecting the honeymooner destination of past generations when I checked in, complete with vibrating heart shaped bed and green shag carpeting.

The sweaty man at the front desk, with an exaggerated wink, made sure to mention that he had given me the upgrade.

Joy.

I pull the burned dumplings out of the microwave and toss them in the trash. The sickly smell is still thick in the air as I put the trash can outside the patio door, which I left open.

“The view isn’t much.” I add, noting that the overgrown field led to a dilapidated hot tub-andpool combo tucked in the back of the property. That hot tub has probably seen its fair share of shit, both literally and figuratively.

The rural road that stretched next to the hotel was empty, save for the occasional head lights of a long-haul trucker passing though. Did people even come here anymore?

Meet the Author: Jen Miller has spent her share of time in small towns, complete with quaint hotels on rural highways. Her inspiration for this story came from a dream from one of these trips.

+ "Technically Afraid" by Morgan McClure (Finalist)

Excerpt: The ding of my phone turns my head to the shelf next to me. It’s 6pm on a Monday, and I’m caught in the middle of editing my favorite client’s newest novel. Grabbing my phone, I see the screen is displaying a “Front Door Camera” notification.

Oh good, I think to myself, this must be the Halloween costume I ordered for Hailey. My 9-month old daughter is going to be a skeleton for Halloween, with matching costumes for her dad and I. Not the most original of family costumes, but it’s better than nothing. I’ve been so swamped at work lately, not to mention Hailey’s still irregular sleep schedule, that I’m lucky Iremembered to order costumes at all, and now Halloween is only 3 days away.

I don’t bother to watch the video clip, instead heading directly for the front door, anticipating the brown amazon box sitting next to the doormat as usual (although I’m too busy to shop much these days, my husband doesn’t share my condition). Through the side window panes of the door I can see the wind adding leaves to the orange blanketed lawn. But when I open the door there’s no package, and I roll my eyes in exasperation. At this rate I’m going to have to call Amazon and complain, it’s almost two days late.

On my way back to my desk, I pull up the video clip to see what animal set the camera off, but the 5 second clip only shows an almost cloud like haze move across the screen.

“Seriously?” I mutter to myself in annoyance, “That thing went off to fog!?” I really need to get David to re-calibrate it.

Settling back into my work, I almost don’t notice when our refrigerator beeps, indicating an alert.

Walking over to it, I see the front display screen has pulled up a recipe for blood pudding, and I make a face in disgust. Gross. I switch the screen off, wondering what possessed it to think anyone in this house would be interested in a recipe like that. It must be one of those features they push out seasonally. Suggest people make blood pudding, and they’ll go buy Quaker oatmeal for the filling, product placement in the new age. I’m so glad Frigidaire is raking in the dough on us even after we’ve bought their product.

Suddenly, the smart doorbell sings its song out to the house, indicating that someone has pressed it. Simultaneously, my phone, now on silent, buzzes, obviously picking up the motion on the camera clip from the door.

Surely this must be Amazon.

But walking to the front door, once again, there’s no one there. I scan the adjacent woods of our 5-acre property, searching for any movement, again hoping to see an animal, but anything out of the ordinary is masked by the wind sweeping through the trees and the impending darkness settling in.

Meet the Author: Morgan is a patent examiner by day, and writes stories in her spare time. She currently enjoys living in and exploring Alexandria with her dog Gelato.

Thank you to all of our participants in this year’s Spooky Story Writing Contest and congratulations once again to all of our finalists and our winner, Sarah Strunk! If the excerpts above caught your attention, please visit the link below to partake in the full array of spookiness our finalists have dreamed up for you.

Feeling inspired to start writing your own story, spooky or otherwise? You’re in luck! Tomorrow marks the start of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and Old Town Books is ready to support you: Instagram inspiration, accountability write-ins, writers’ resources, and more. Sign up below and join us on this wonderful (and sometimes wild) journey to create a whole new book in just 30 days! Be sure to tag us at @oldtownbooks and use the hashtag #OTBnano to share your progress.

Photos by Amanda Robinson and Angie Sanchez. Graphic design by Amanda Robinson.
Edited by Shannon McCarthy.