5 Short Scary Stories to Read at Night

These five stories are short enough to finish before you lose your nerve. Each takes less than three minutes to read. For the full effect, read them in bed, with one lamp on.

1. Read

For two years after Gran died, I kept texting her number. Nothing big. Made your soup today. It wasn’t as good. I knew the phone was in a drawer at my aunt’s house, battery long dead.

Last Tuesday, under my message, a tiny word appeared: Read.

I called my aunt. She checked the drawer. The phone was there, cold and dark.

That night I typed, with shaking hands: Who is this?

Read. Then the three dots, the ones that mean someone is typing. They pulsed for a long time.

The message, when it came, was one word, in the way Gran always spelled it, with too many letters.

Hellooo.

And then: Why did you stop visiting?

2. The Delay

I noticed it while brushing my teeth: my reflection was a fraction slow. I’d lift the brush, and a heartbeat later, so would the man in the glass.

Tiredness, I told myself. Old mirror.

By the end of the week it was a full second behind. I started testing it: a wave, a wink, a shrug. Always late, always obedient.

Tonight I switched on the bathroom light and stood very still.

My reflection raised its hand. Slowly. Deliberately.

I hadn’t moved yet.

3. Snow Angels

The first morning after the snowfall, there was a snow angel on our front lawn. We laughed; some neighbor’s kid, we said.

The next morning, there were two, a little closer to the house. The morning after that, three, closer still, and no footprints leading to or from any of them.

Tonight we counted again from the window, the four of us in our pajamas: five angels now, lined up beneath the porch light.

My daughter pointed at the smallest one, pressed right against our front step. “That one’s the right size for me.”

Then she pointed at the fifth, the one we couldn’t account for, and asked who it was for.

4. Floor Zero

Our building’s elevator has a button with no number on it, below the lobby. The superintendent says it’s for the old boiler room, sealed years ago.

At 3:33 every morning, the button lights up.

I’ve checked. I’ve stood in the lobby at 3:32 and watched the numbers above the doors. At 3:33 the elevator hums down past us, past the lobby, to the floor that isn’t there.

At 3:40, it comes back up. The doors open. The car is empty.

Except for the wet footprints, which lead out, across the lobby, towards the stairs.

5. Night Swim

We swam out to the raft in the middle of the lake, the six of us, the way we did every summer. Warm water, a sky full of stars, someone laughing.

On the raft, I counted heads out of habit. Six. Good.

Then I looked back at the water and saw one more head, very still, halfway between us and the shore. Just floating there, facing us.

“Who’s that?” I said, and the laughing stopped.

We counted again. Six on the raft. Everyone accounted for.

The head in the water sank, slowly, without a ripple.

Nobody wanted to swim back.

Want more?

If these left you wanting something even shorter, try our two-sentence horror stories. For a longer read, settle in with The Night Shift at Mile 49, or ride along with The Last Passenger.

Frequently asked questions

Are these stories true?

No. Every story on Terrible Stories is original fiction.

Are they suitable for kids?

These are aimed at teens and adults. For younger readers, try our scary stories for kids.