There’s something strangely irresistible about disturbing short horror stories—those twisted little tales that burrow into your mind long after the lights go out. They don’t scream; they whisper, creeping up from the corners of the dark, wearing the soft skin of the familiar. These aren’t just scary short stories to read at night; they are unsettling glimpses into the grotesque, the obsessive, and the inhuman. Below are two creepy bedtime stories best read alone, when the silence is thick and your walls feel a bit too close. But beware, dear reader: for once you start, there’s no escaping the demons what lurk within these pages.
Tiny Little Paw Steps: A Horrific Encounter in the Wee Hours of the Night
Cats. My grandma used to say they are conduits of souls, guardians of the good and the pure, the newly departed; guiding their paths towards the heavenly glow, beyond which flowing streams of milk and honey shimmer in the bright and blossoming bliss of God almighty Himself. But then again, she would also spit on my wounds in my infant years, and douse them with dry sand, saying it would help them heal faster. So maybe she was right. Maybe she wasn’t.
Grandmother. Oh, how I miss you so.
I smiled as I lay a blanket over Sassy, my house cat, on her new bolster bed. I worried she wouldn’t like it when I got it for her a week ago, but now she barely ever gets off it. Patting the sweet little feline on its furry head, I checked the time on my watch: 10.30pm.
I yawned and stretched, and before long, I was calm and cozy underneath my sheets. I turned the bedside lamp off and pulled the sleeping mask over my face. That bolster bed had been a godsend. There wasn’t even a trace of Sassy’s fur on the sheets, and my asthma thanked me for it.
Or so I thought.
Tiny little footsteps made their way up my calves and scuttled over my buttocks and onto my lower back.
‘Sassy!’
I expected a protesting meow, but I heard nothing of the sort. Instead, the paws continued down my other leg before making their way up the back of my neck. The familiar feel of its fur brushed against my face.
‘Come on, Sassy. I need my sleep.’
The mischievous little paws didn’t relent. They went over my head, ruffling my hair and brushing my ears.
‘Damn it, Sassy,’ I grunted.
Meow!
‘For God’s sake, let me sleep.’
Meow!
Wait a minute. I thought. If the cat’s right over my head, why is her voice coming from the corner of the room?
I quickly pulled the sleeping mask off and jumped out of bed. The string switch on the bedside lamp was the first thing I reached for. The light flicked on, glossing its dim light over my bed as my eyes adjusted.
Something hairy brushed against my leg and my heart jumped to my throat.
Meow!
Sassy. Thank God. I placed a hand over my racing heart and breathed a sigh of relief. You almost gave me a heart attack, girl.
Meow!
I reached for the sheets again, when something moved underneath them. Taking a breath, I yanked the sheets off the bed. Two bright eyes looked back at me over a long snout and bared teeth.
My skin crawled as I came to grips with the black, furry ball of reality that was creeping over my skin just a second ago.
It was a rat. A big fat rat with a long tail that was at least two and a half feet long. I watched in horror as it jumped off my bed and disappeared into the night through the open bedroom window.
A Hot Evening Date: A Not-so-Romantic Tale of Horrors
The dimly lit evening was a soothing caress of comfort as I stepped into my front door. The tie on my neck felt like a tightening halter, so I loosened it and shut the door behind me.
Home sweet home.
I dumped my suitcase on the sofa and instructed Alexa to play Frank Sinatra to cool my nerves. My day at work was a crumbling mess, but my evening date showed great promise. A smile cracked across my face.
I needed to get ready.
I rushed to my bedroom and adorned my best tux before heading down to the basement. The floor creaked and groaned as I made my way down there. The lights flickered as I clicked them on – I should probably make a point of changing the bulb one of these days. And right below the flickering shade of light sat an angel on a wooden chair, the bright fluorescent halo twinkling over her crimson hair. The love of my life, the source of my nightly joys, the anchor to my lost and wandering vessel.
I could see her smile, even underneath the tape wrapped so neatly over her lips. Her dazzling red gown was a thing of joy. Her long, sultry slit showed a teasing glimpse of the heavenly joys that stayed hidden underneath her chiffon glamour of a dress. I can’t remember her name, but I loved her regardless.
Her muffled cries intermingled brilliantly with her hidden smile as I picked the tweezers on the table nested to her side. She squirmed in delight, held by her gleaming restraints, desperate for my attention. Her tears of joy were, if nothing, but a sweet testament of this.
I licked the shiny tweezers in my fingers and strode in closer to my date. She could barely withhold her joy as she writhed and wiggled harder the closer I got. And soon, I stood right over her, caressing her soft, red hair in my hand. Her cries turned tremulous, probably orgasmic, as I ran a finger down her face, down her should, and finally, down to her soft, angelic hands.
I took to my knees before her and kissed fingers before looking up to her pleading, teary eyes. She wanted… no. She needed me to do it. Her warm, teary eyes begged for it. And being the gentleman that I was. Who was I to say no to a lady?
So, I brought the tweezers to the only finger on her hand still clad with a red, glossy nail. I tightened the tweezers over the tip and tugged. It resisted at first, but slowly, and with passionate persistence, it gave in. A rush ran through me as it parted from the warm embrace of its cuticle.
Her hot, scintillating cries filled the night as it slid farther out. She huffed and writhed as I pulled, gritting her teeth and shutting her eyes with bliss. Red, glistening juices flowed from the attachment as the nail elongated from its root. I shuddered with pleasure as my sweet lady’s muffled cries crescendoed to a low, visceral grunt.
With a smile, I licked my lady’s finger clean of the red juices before kissing the new, keratinous souvenir in the palm of my hand. My lady struggled to catch her breath, and I smiled, knowing all too well that my work here was done.
I took to my feet and planted a soft kiss on her sweaty forehead. Leaning in over her ear, I whispered, ‘That was amazing, my love. I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time. Same place.’
Still with us? Good. That means the shadows haven’t taken you—yet. The twisted love story in A Hot Evening Date and the spine-prickling paranoia of Tiny Little Paw Steps are just a taste of what’s waiting for you in the darker corners of our world. If disturbing short horror stories are your poison of choice—dripping with psychological tension, dread, and the unknown—don’t stop here. Step deeper into the dark—check out They Visit When It’s Dark, a chilling journey you won’t soon forget. But tread carefully. Some stories don’t enjoy being read… and they never leave you once they are.
Ready for more fear? Visit my author pages on Amazon, Bookbub, and Goodreads to see what disturbing horror stories I’m currently reading, check my book reviews, and buy my next bestseller.
