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NYC Midnight Scary Story Challenge 2025

Final Round

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400 words​​

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Written in 48 hours

using assigned prompts

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Prompts:

Scare: a wrong turn / Action: sifting / Character: an exhausted person​

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Lark’s little brother wanted to hold her hand all the way to school.

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It was Bertie’s first day. Mama had wrapped a red scarf around him, and he looked like a plump little robin, chirping with excitement as they plodded along in the crisp winter sunshine.

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But Lark longed to run.

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The path wound through the woods from their village to the school. At the fork, every child knew they must go Right. Never Left. Left led somewhere else. Somewhere bad.

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But Right was smooth and perfect for running.

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‘Come on!’ Lark dragged Bertie into a trot. He clomped along in his boots, whinging.

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Just then, her classmates raced past, and Lark felt her blood prickle, her muscles twitch. She couldn’t resist shaking free from Bertie’s damp hand and giving chase. ‘Let’s go!’

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They thundered through the woods like a herd of deer, their breath puffing in huge silver clouds. A magpie shrieked as they whipped gloriously by.

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Behind his sister, Bertie’s pudgy legs were tiring.

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‘Wait!’ he gasped, exhausted, his scarf prickling hot round his neck. ‘Wait for me!’ His whine took on a note of panic as he slipped further behind.

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But Lark didn’t hear. She was whooping, lost in the thrill of stampeding through the old, unfriendly woods. At the fork in the path, she didn’t even glance to the Left. Nothing to see down there but mossy old statues anyway.

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Finally, she burst out from the trees, giggling with the others as snow began sifting down like sugar. Lark turned, heart full… and saw only empty path behind her.

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‘Bertie?’

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The school-bell rang.

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Still, he didn’t come.

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Lark retraced the path back into the woods, sure he couldn’t be that far behind. She only began shivering as she approached the fork.

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Bertie was too little to know his Left from his Right.

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There, in the snow, were his baby boot-prints, trailing down the wrong path. Lark’s stomach dropped… until she spied a flash of red between the trees.

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Bertie. Standing still as stone. Smiling at her.

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With a scream of relief, Lark flew towards him, reaching for his hand… but it was all wrong. His fingers were ice-cold, his eyes marble white, his mouth full of moss.

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Lark choked, tasting dirt. She tried to wrench away, but her feet were already rooted to the earth, her hand stiffening around her brother’s.

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She’d never let go again.

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Written by Sophie Dutton Feb 2026