I Opened The Door And I Saw Creative Essay Titles

Scary Short Story Titles and Your Imagination

When coming up with ideas for titles for scary short stories, use your imagination.

If you want somebody to be able to tell from just the title of your story that the story is scary, then making the title of your story sound scary is important, but if you use your imagination you could use just about any titles for your scary short stories.

Imagine words that don’t usually sound scary being just perfect for a scary short story title. It’s possible, with imagination – and you need a good imagination to be able to write a good scary short story anyway.

Look at each of the suggested ideas for scary short story titles in the list below. They don’t all sound scary, do they? But they could be …

Imagination is a wonderful thing – even a scary thing.

Dreaming up titles for scary short stories


Use your imagination to take any few words and make a scary short story title out of it.

Disclaimer: I used nothing but my imagination to come up with each of the scary short story titles below. Apologies to the original authors if any of these titles are already in use.

Scary Short Story Titles 1 to 10

The Old Calendar
Beneath Her Shoes
Underneath the Bush
Don’t Leave the Window Open
Have You Locked the Door?
The Ball of String
The Rope That Was Too Short
The Movie Theatre
Back to Square One
Rapid Knocks

Scary Short Story Titles 11 to 20

Hanging Hung Jury
Chilling Visions
Cold Elbows
Rigid Folk
No Accident
Not Seeing
Untold Thoughts
Yesterday’s Tomorrow
The Thing in the Pool
The Tip of the Pencil

Scary Short Story Titles 21 to 30

Beckoning Fingers
No Children Allowed
Children Only
Small Enough To Get In
The Missing Street
Angry Forest
Moody Assumptions
Small House Big Room
Toe Hunter
Red Revenge

Scary Short Story Titles 31 to 40

Pieces on the Beach
Never Turn Your Back
It Approaches Slowly
Gory Games
Creaking Cracks
Pile of Pebbles
Over and Over Again
The Sour Breeze
Who Gets the Second Chance?
Nowhere To Go But Inside

Scary Short Story Titles 41 to 50

Not Her Reflection
Not the Right Bus
Dirt Under Its Nails
That Place Nobody Goes To
Glass Eyes in Fake Heads
No Blinking
Not a Lucky Charm
Drifting Darkly
It Smells Like Wrong
Water Chaser

More Scary Short Story Titles!
This list of fifty scary short story titles should give you at least another 40 ideas for titles for scary short stories. Simply change a word or two in the titles, or jot down everything each title makes you think of.

General Short Story Titles

For the titles that don’t seem scary at first glance, consider also using them for short stories that weren’t meant to be scary. This list of scary short story titles should give you ideas for not only more titles for scary short stories but also for other stories, even for non-fiction articles. Using one’s imagination one can look at a suggested title, and think of many topics to write about that might suit that title.

Let’s look at three of the titles:

The Ball of String
A cute or sad story about a kitten; an article about how to crochet something using string; an article about home decor using string; a funny story about Christmas tree decorations. Scary story ideas: A ball of string that wraps up and smothers people all on its own; what somebody finds hidden in a ball of string; how adding a tin can “pretend telephone or two way radio” onto one side of the string allows somebody to communicate with somebody (somebody odd or scary) they can’t see on the other side of the string.

Angry Forest
This title does already sound a little scary, but not that much so. An article about deforestation; a children’s story about angry but sad trees in the forest that talk to a little boy about their concerns and then what the little boy does to save them; Scary story ideas: How the trees in a forest “come alive” and seek revenge on the townsfolk of a little village who have started to destroy the forest; a story about how the forest animals attack people who explore it due to the animals having witnessed something really bad happening in the forest years before.

The Sour Breeze
A funny story about trying to get rid of a sour milk smell in the house; A funny children’s story about how a little boy or little girl (or even a group of children) come to decide that they no longer like sweets; a dramatic, romantic, and ultimately happy-ending story about a married couple who seem to be heading for a divorce but then something happens to make them realise they still love each other, a recipe article about how to make a really easy but yummy lemon fridge tart. Scary story ideas: a story about discovering the source of a sour breeze that wafts through a town at a certain time every night; a story about sour thoughts and what horrible things these thoughts make people do.

Conclusion
Whether scary stories bore you or keep you up at night, use your imagination when it comes to writing scary stories or any other type of stories, and always have fun. The more you enjoy what you are writing about, the better the end result. You can also improve your writing skills by doing some short and inexpensive writing or grammar courses, perhaps online at places like Udemy – browse though all sorts of courses that you could start right away at Udemy – Start learning on Udemy today!

© Copyright Teresa Schultz 2013

I lived in that house for 10 years and I'd never seen what was behind that brown mysterious looking door until that last day.

The house I once lived in was old-fashioned with a smell of musk and damp with the feeling that someone was always looking over your shoulder. The living room was the first room when you entered the house. The room was filled with very used furniture. Uncomfortable seats with holes in them and springs coming out of them, worn down rugs over the bare wood floor, and a large display case with pictures, and dusty books. And the enormous window that, during the day, will let as much sunlight and energy in the room as it possibly can. My house is part of a beautiful street where each house seems to stand on it's own little hill like royalty. 15 was my house.

I remember the day before we were set to move standing outside the door thinking to myself, what's behind it, why is it locked and why has it been kept a secret. My mother tapped me on the shoulder and asked “What are you doing?”. “What's behind that door?” I said, “Never ask me that, there are things behind that door that should never be seen, and never will be, you hear me” replied my mum harshly. I didn't understand what was so bad that no-one, not even her own daughter could see.

That day my mother was set to take some of our last belongings to our new house. I had my mind set on opening that door, doing whatever it took just to get a peep. I watched my mum loading up the car with old ratty teddies and my old doll called Elizabeth. That doll was my only memory of my Dad, he was killed in a car accident when I was 1, he gave me the doll the day before he died. I made a plan that I would open it, look and make sure no-one knew I had done it, I thought easy, nothing could go wrong. But that didn't happen.

I prepared myself with a flash-light and a penknife. I walked down the hallway each step I got more anxious, more weary. I got to the door, I stood and looked at it more, the black hinges, the shiny finish, surely nothing bad could be behind this door I thought to myself. I grabbed the door handle and took a deep breath, as I opened the heavy oak door to the mysterious room, the scent of mouldy leaves and wet dogs nearly made me throw up.

The room reminded of something out of a horror movie, the windows where boarded up, there was only a large table in the middle of the room. I heard a soft sound of a persons voice calling out and I heard a creak of the wooden floor boards like someone in a rocking chair. I grabbed my torch and knew that I wasn't going to like what I saw, I searched the room starting from the ceiling, the ceiling was normal, the same chandelier as my bedroom hung grandly. I moved my flash-light down and saw something in the corner of my eye, a silhouette of a person, a man. He was gasping, and wheezing, his face covered by his hands, his hands were different, very different. His tattered dirty clothes hung to his chest as if they were too small, his hair scraggly and almost gone. He pulled himself up slowly and lost his balance and fell down. I remember stepping back, not really sure of what to do next, so I ran. I ran out of the room, down the stairs and out of front door onto the porch. I was gasping for air, with my hands on the back of my head, I was so confused. What was it?.

I sat down on the deck chair outside thinking it over, rewinding it in my head. I saw my mother had come back from my new house with an empty car boot, and the look of confusion on her face. She came out of the car shouting at me, she knew exactly what I had done, but I couldn't hear her, my head was spinning my head was throbbing and then I fell. I didn't remember anything after that but I remember waking up in a clean room and I was blinded by the sun coming in from the window. I remember my mum walk in with a smile on her face, but not a happy to see your awake smile a more pity smile.

My mum sat down in the chair next to my bed, I felt calm not worried by what was a home, but I knew my mum was going to say something that would ruin that feeling. She sighed, her breath smelt of candy, she always ate when she was worried, when she finally had the guts to start talking I thought she would never stop. She told me that the person in the room was my twin brother, he was born with a disfigurement in his face, and has been locked away since my dad past away. I was angry, hurt and sorry for my brother all at once.

I ran out the room, I was so angry. I walked past the nurses they told me to stop, but I wasn't listening to anyone. I walked out onto the street the cold air hit me like a moments shock unable to breath. I fell to my knees and hit the cold grey cement pavement, I could feel the people watching me but I didn't care. I remember when I was younger longing for a brother or a sister, some sort of company, and now I do I feel these ill-thoughts, I feel guilty. After all it's not my brothers fault he is like that.

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A short story about a door that no-one knows what's behind it

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