Halloween Stories for Teens

Too old for kids’ ghost stories, too young to care about taxes: Halloween belongs to teenagers. These three originals are perfect for a Halloween night in, or for reading out loud after the candy runs out.

The Last House on the Route

Every year, our trick-or-treat route ended at the Hendersons’ house, where old Mrs. Henderson gave out full-size chocolate bars. This year, there was a new house after hers. It sat at the end of the street where the empty lot had always been: porch light on, jack-o’-lanterns grinning, a bowl of candy on the step.

We rang the bell. The door opened, and a woman in a 1980s dress smiled at us and held out the bowl. “Take as many as you like,” she said.

The candy bars had wrappers I’d only seen in old photos. The prices on them were in cents.

“Thanks,” said Dev, and then, because he’s Dev, “Is this a theme?”

She laughed. “It’s the last Halloween before we move,” she said. “We’ve been saying that for forty years.”

When we looked back from the corner, the lot was empty. Just weeds and a single jack-o’-lantern, freshly carved, still lit.

The Perfect Costume

Maddie’s costume party had one rule: nobody could come as themselves. So when I walked in and saw someone dressed as me, I laughed.

My hoodie. My ripped jeans. My hair, somehow. They’d even copied the little scar on my chin. Everyone kept complimenting me on the “twin costume.”

“Who is that?” I asked Maddie.

She frowned. “I thought that was your cousin.”

I don’t have a cousin.

I followed my double through the party, into the kitchen, out onto the back deck. They stopped by the railing and turned around. Up close, the face was perfect. Too perfect: no mask edge, no makeup line.

“Good costume,” I said, trying to sound brave.

“Thanks,” it said, in my voice. “You can have it back at midnight. If I’m done with it.”

The Maze

The corn maze at Hollow Creek Farm was supposed to take twenty minutes. The sign said so, and the farmer said so, and he laughed when we asked if anyone ever got lost.

After an hour, we’d passed the same scarecrow three times.

After two, the music from the farm had faded, and the corn was taller than it had been. Far taller. We could only see a strip of stars above us.

We found the scarecrow again. This time it was wearing Priya’s scarf, the one she’d lost at the entrance.

We ran. We took every left turn, then every right, then any turn at all, until the corn opened onto the parking lot and the lights of the farm stand.

The farmer looked up from his till. “Twenty minutes,” he said. “Right on time.”

My phone agreed. Twenty minutes, exactly.

Priya’s scarf was still gone.

More for Halloween night

Mix in some laughs between stories with WhiteFool’s Halloween jokes. For shorter scares, try our two-sentence horror stories, and for the stories people swear are true, read urban legends explained.

Frequently asked questions

Are these stories okay for 12-year-olds?

They’re written for teens, with spooky moments and no gore. For younger readers, try our scary stories for kids.

Can I read these aloud at a party?

Yes. Each story takes about two minutes to read aloud.