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Dark Descent Microhorror
Each month, we drop one eerie image.
Writers turn it into nightmares.
Below are this month’s entries.
Read them carefully.
The one that lingers — the one that unsettles — is the one that deserves your vote.
The top three stories will be chosen for publication in the Dark Descent monthly magazine.
This is where the shadows take shape.
And where you decide which ones survive.
Each month opens on the 1st. Submit your story before the 25th. Then the community decides. Voting closes on the final day.
October 2026
Knights Aren't Scared
Kirsty Syder
The jack o’lantern was lit up, but there was no one there to hand out candy. That, Ginny said to herself, wasn’t fair. But the door was open a crack and the warm air felt so inviting as she squelched through the wet leaves. Surely there’d be someone inside, maybe they’d be so impressed that she would go so far for her prize that she’d get a full-size bar, or even two.
She pushed the door further open and stepped inside.
‘Hello?’ she called. No reply, and more importantly, no candy bowl. She have to keep looking. The moment she was clear of the door, it swung shut with a bang, making her jump and her helmet fall off. She put it back on. You’re a knight of the realm, she told herself. Knights aren’t scared of loud noises.
The house wasn’t so welcoming now she was inside. The only light was from a candle on the stairs, its flickering throwing up shadows that darted across the walls towards her.
Knights aren’t scared of shadows.
Ginny gripped the hilt of her wooden sword and walked further into the house. She could hear a rhythmic creaking coming from a room to the left, maybe that was where the candy could be found.
The first thing she saw was an enormous black dog asleep on the floor, chest rising and falling. Next to it was a woman in a rocking chair, moving back and forth while her legs kicked in the air.
When Ginny was small she’d met her great-grandmother, her Nanny’s mom, and thought she was the oldest person she’d ever see. This woman made her look young. Her skin seemed transparent as it stretched over her skull, lips thin and hair patchy. But unlike greatgrandmama, who in Ginny’s memory was always asleep or close to it, this woman’s eyes sparkled with life.
‘Trick or treat!’ Ginny’s voice only wavered a little as she held her bag out.
‘No treats here, my sweet,’ the woman said, her smile like a snarling wolf. ‘And you’ve already had the trick.’
‘Thank you?’ Ginny wasn’t sure what she meant, but she knew to always be polite to her elders. She still couldn’t see any candy, so it was time to leave.
‘You won’t be leaving.’ Ginny felt the words sink in to her, like a stone thrown in a lake. The dog was awake now, standing and glaring at her with yellow eyes.
Ginny took one shaky step away before the woman whispered ‘Get her’ and the dog lunged. Ginny ran for the front door, still closed. She grabbed at the lock but couldn’t open it. Teeth closed around her ankle. She fell.
There was a dragging noise and some snuffling, then the house fell silent once again. After a few minutes, the front door swung open, soft candlelight spilling out into the street.
October 2026
The House in Old Town
Z.K. Sanderson
The night air is crisp in Old Town Alexandria—chilly even. Fallen leaves blanket the brick sidewalks, and the streetlights give them an eerie glow in the darkness. My heart’s pounding, but it always does before a job.
I know what I’m doing.
I’ve been casing this house for days: it’s a quaint, old rowhouse on Columbus Street. I’ve never seen anyone come or go. The curtains are always down (no doubt to keep those lousy tourists from peeking inside). It’s well maintained, though. From what I can see through the windows (because I’ve peeked inside a few times), it looks richly furnished. So someone’s definitely living there. Maybe they’re on a cruise to the Bahamas or something—I don’t really care.
When I feel safe enough, I creep out of my car and make my way up the brick porch. There’s a glowing jack-o'-lantern sitting by the door. Was that there before? I can’t remember. I try the door handle and find, to my amazement, that it’s unlocked.
Who leaves their front door unlocked when they’re on vacation? Maybe there’s a house sitter I somehow missed.
Swallowing my growing uneasiness, I gently open the door and step inside. It’s pitch black, still, and quiet.
But then, all the candles light themselves. The entry hall’s cast in a soft, golden light that does nothing to steady my nerves.
“Can I help you, love?” a woman asks behind me.
I jump and spin around. Sitting in an overstuffed easy chair is a young woman reading a thick book. I think it’s Outlander?
“Hi,” she says cheerfully.
“Hi,” I say. “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone was home.”
“Which leads to more questions, don’t you think?” She has a soft Scottish brogue and long, curly red hair. Putting her book down, she stands up and puts her hands on her hips.
“Were you reading in pitch blackness?” I croak.
“You don’t get to ask the questions,” she says, smiling.
“The door was unlocked. Technically I didn’t break in.”
“Oh sure.” The woman rolls her eyes. “And suppose I call the cops right now?”
“There’s no need for that,” I say, panic rising in my voice. I’m feeling very uncomfortable and know I need to get away. Quickly.
“No, there isn’t.” She smiles. “I’m Margaret MacOlley.”
“Danny,” I stammer. She saunters over to me, which would normally be a welcome development—just not tonight. But I’m frozen with fear and can’t move. She knows it too.
“Well, Danny,” Margaret says as she puts her arms around my neck. “How about dinner? On you, of course.”
Before I can say anything, her face changes and she… grows fangs?
Crap.
She goes for my neck, and I yelp at the sudden prick of pain. She’s drinking hungrily, and soon the pain changes into a relaxing sensation. I can feel myself drifting away. I’m being drained—drained into nothingness. But there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
And then, blackness hits me.
October 2026
Going Home
David L. Repsher
Mrs. Wixton never left her front door open. Never used it for that matter, utilizing only the wheelchair ramp at the side entrance. Daniel stepped over the threshold, raised his voice, and called her name. The sound filled the house before echoing hollowly back to him. Everything looked the same as during his visit three days ago when he replaced the failed food waste disposal, charging her just its purchase price and a large slice of her homemade cheesecake.
“It’s Daniel Burgher from next door,” he shouted. He was answered only by the ticking of the grandfather clock standing guard by the fireplace.
After a quick check of the first floor, Daniel approached the staircase where her wheelchair was on its side, rear wheels spinning slowly. He ran up the stairs calling her name. He’d not been up here before. No reason to: Mrs. Wixton made only the first floor her home.
The hallway at the top seemed to be a museum to her husband. Pictures of him covered the walls from floor to ceiling and depicted every stage of his life from childhood to public school to their marriage to military service to somewhat morbid funeral pictures of him after the heart attack.
As Daniel viewed the photographs, a soft far away voice caught his attention. He moved down the hall and opened the last door on the right. This room was also covered with pictures of Mr. Wixton, touching frame-to-frame, obscuring the wallpaper. They were exclusively headshot portraits, again depicting every stage of his life.
Something moved in the doorless closet and Daniel went cold as Clara Wixton stepped out of the shadows. Her eyes were cloudy and as white as her nightgown. Her silver-grey hair flowed over and down her shoulders, moving slowly as if stirred by a breeze.
“Mrs. Wixton,” he started. “Are you okay? Your front door…”
She smiled. “Front door?”
“It’s wide open and I came in to check on you.” He gasped. “How are you walking? You said your legs are useless since the accident.”
She chuckled softly and did a quick spin on her right foot. “They’ve been restored, Daniel. Everything is better. I’ve a guest coming so I must be my best.”
“Who is coming?”
“My Reginald, finally. He’s taking me away.”
Daniel choked as the portraits moved, all eyes focusing on Clara as she twirled again and waved her arms softly in dance. He turned and ran from the room, down the hallway, and hit every other stair on the way down. The pictures had all come to life, child Reginald running as if playing tag, schoolboy Reginald carrying books, the bride and groom lighting candles in a church, military Reginald straightening his tie with his cap askew at a rakish angle, a line of people sobbing and walking past his coffin…
Seconds later, Daniel was on the phone to the police. And building the courage to find Mrs. Wixton’s body.
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🖤 The votes are in! A huge thank you to everyone who entered our latest Dark Descent Picture Prompt Competition, and to everyone who took the time to read the stories and vote.
Congratulations to our three winning authors:
🥇 Warden’s Watch — CJ Hooper
🥈 Mass Transit — Nicholas Waller
🥉 Scarecrows Never Blink — M A Kelly
Thank you to every writer who entered. It’s always a pleasure seeing how many completely different stories can come from a single image. 🖤
August Picture Comp winners
Congrats to this round’s winners.
The Last Laugh by Tasarla Romaney
Laughter In The Rain by Earnest Gadjo
Coming of Age by David L. Repsher
Those three are going in Dark Descent. There were plenty of strong entries besides these, so don’t take it to heart if yours didn’t land this time.
September’s image is live here if you want another crack at it: https://www.darkholmepublishing.uk/darkdescentcompetitionsubmit
🩸 THIS MONTH’S TOP 3 🩸
Huge congratulations to the three stories our readers chose this month:
• The Beginning of a Legend – Christopher Hooper
• Obscurity – P. Ran
• The Gypsy’s Kiss / Kill – Earnest Gadjo
You didn’t just rise to the top… you helped us reach a brand-new milestone.
Over 300 reader votes this month — a first for us!
Thank you to every reader who took the time to vote and support these dark, twisted tales. You made this possible.
This months picture prompt is now live
The shadows are watching… and they’re impressed. 👁️
Over 100 reader votes already!
We've officially passed 100 votes in this month's Picture Prompt Competition, and there's still plenty of time left to have your say.
A huge thank you to everyone who submitted a story, took the time to read the entries and cast a vote. Every vote helps decide which writers will be published in the next issue of Dark Descent.
Voting is still open, and with the top stories so close, every vote really could make the difference.
One week down... and we've already had over 50 votes! Thank you, everyone! 🖤
@ELRavrhurst. Excellent addition. My family are from Somerset, I’m even there now on holiday, so this was timely. A great entry!
Wow... what a month June has been! 🎉
We received 11 incredible entries, and together you cast over 90 votes to decide this month's favourites. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read the stories and support our writers. Your enthusiasm is what makes this competition so much fun each month.
A huge congratulations to our Top 3 voted stories:
🖤 We Were Waiting — Tasarla Romaney
🖤 The 4 — P. Ran
🖤 Between the Chapel and the Town — CJ Hooper
Congratulations to all three authors, and thank you once again to everyone who entered.
📖 This month's image prompt is now live! If you're ready to write your next horror story, head over and submit your entry here:
Enter the Competition
We can't wait to see what nightmares you come up with next. 🖋️
Hope I slipped my story in as a newbie to the DarkHolme community. First-ever attempt at flash fiction :)
@Daniel Hollister, I really enjoyed Witch's Wood, not just for the apotropaia (these crop up often in my day job), but for the writing too. Neat, well written, prose is a joy to read, while delivering chills at the same time. Thank you.
Congratulations to Mays Winners :)
Congratulations to April's winners 😊
These are all so good. I'd like to vote for The Clearing, but it's not included in the list of choices.
The Clearing is brill. Nice one, Emma-Louise Smith
@secretgeek excellent stuff! Really enjoyed this, and the graphic too. Very well done!
I hope I didn't miss the deadline. I see more stories above than are listed in the vote choices :)
With working on my dark fantasy, I didn't think I'd have time to join in the fun this month. But a picture full of zombies was just too good to pass up. Glad to be a part again.
Been one heck of a month here, but I'm happy to have a story submitted for this! Looking forward to reading everyone else's story! Also, where would you put the story's title in the submission? I just threw it as the first line of the story, but I noticed some were hanging above the author's name.
Really enjoyed this one Tina! Unnatural angles that didn’t seem possible in a car park are a great nod to non Euclidian town planning!
Every month feels different. New image, new stories, new reactions.
Everyone takes something different from them, and that’s part of what makes this space interesting.
Whatever it stirred up for you — whether it lingered, unsettled, or surprised you — this is where it goes.
😀
Kerry