/u/red40jake's posts in /r/TwoSentenceHorror

Year:

Only show posts with narrations

Her somnolent eyes blinked twice at the harsh glow emitted by the flickering screen.

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The weathervane that perched atop the settled, red barn would, on occasion, tell her in squeaks and whistles of life on the farm before her time.

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We fought our way through the tangled underbrush, in the dying light, for hours.

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The pheromone spray that masked their scent let them move through the city undetected, but despite careful rationing, it had run out.

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The fine porcelain head exploded in a choking cloud of dust before settling amidst the wreckage.

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Gasping and crying, he nearly threw himself into the hard, green-white light of the gas station—a lighthouse beam in the sea of wheat.

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The low ceiling was thick with dried sunflowers, and dried roses with baby’s breath, and herbs she couldn’t identify.

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She told me of when she was small; of hall and haunted house.

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The wind in the grass tells of the past and the future.

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After the last screams died in the throats of the remnants of the teeming masses, there was quiet.

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Title	Upvotes	Mark as read	Favorited	Rating	Add to a list
Her somnolent eyes blinked twice at the harsh glow emitted by the flickering screen.	8
The weathervane that perched atop the settled, red barn would, on occasion, tell her in squeaks and whistles of life on the farm before her time.	8
We fought our way through the tangled underbrush, in the dying light, for hours.	8
The pheromone spray that masked their scent let them move through the city undetected, but despite careful rationing, it had run out.	8
The fine porcelain head exploded in a choking cloud of dust before settling amidst the wreckage.	8
Gasping and crying, he nearly threw himself into the hard, green-white light of the gas station—a lighthouse beam in the sea of wheat.	8
The low ceiling was thick with dried sunflowers, and dried roses with baby’s breath, and herbs she couldn’t identify.	8
She told me of when she was small; of hall and haunted house.	8
The wind in the grass tells of the past and the future.	8
After the last screams died in the throats of the remnants of the teeming masses, there was quiet.	8