Horror First Line Game

The svelt duck was sure his meager physique would prevent his untimely slaughter by unscrupulous farmers, yet here he sat with a tube down his throat, being force fed grains, nutrients and oils.

The giddy porcelain doll, whose only sign of age pinched at the corner of her eyes, smiled as she gingerly raised the razor for the first slice.

My job is ok, the pay sucks, hours are long, but the benefits include dental, medical, and all the brains I can eat.

A thousand crows filled the autumn-stripped branches of the tree beside Vernon's house, as if they wanted to blot out Father's window or were guarding some dark secret.

Mother's secret was out; though she'd birthed all of us, she was not our blood-mother.

Her bulging sightless eyes, the plate of meaty strings where once dwelt the face I loved; I was certain that these images would haunt me to my last days, but they now seemed trivial against the cold steel terror that seized my spine as I grasped her final words: "I thought it was your turn to feed the duck."

I looked at my wife, her mouth full of food and her attention solely on that, and wondered who had spoken.

Until those fake cops dropped their tommy guns on the cement of the SMC Cartage Company's garage floor and I heard them leave, I thought a head full of Jack McGurn's lead would've killed me.

I hate missing school when my skin starts to peel, but at least I know I won't feel like a shaken soda can when it's all done.

I love the sunlight, nothing is more beautiful and warm, it's the me, instantly bursting into flames, I have a problem with.

It took a few minutes after the shot split my head open to realize that it was my body lying at my feet.

Done this a thousand times--in my mind, still the reality of going hand to hand--with a large, hairy, surly, windigo lost its shine quick.

The thing they never told me about mummification at the clinic was that the 'hook up the nose brain removal' bit really stings.

One hundred bodiesh hung against the walls alleyway buildings, and every one was missing the skin.

I had moonlight, a fellow, a shovel, and a shallow grave---what more could a girl want?

It was a stupid thing, dull and plodding, but relentless--and always hungry.

I think I could have handled being poisoned a lot better if my wife hadn't kept yelling 'Jiggers, Raid!' while they drowned us in the shit.

'I don't feel guilty for pushing that couple in front of a moving train. Now if I could only do the same to all those on the eHarmony adverts...'

"Edgar began--caught between reality and fiction, fact and fantasy, and the internal struggle to comprehend the horrors of the evening that was present in the minds of everyone fleeing in panic or fighting in stubborn and stupid valor, his eyes moving over each of the dark and hungry figures lumbering down the hillside and towards him through the warm breeze of the night--to wet himself."

The overhead light bulb swung, I caught glimpses of fangs, long green claws, and barbed tail--tonight was going to be a long one.

Ive lived through four days of this shit, being tied and gagged in this basement. Im hurting, hungry, and having a conversation with the toy clown on the stool next to me.

The beast squeezed the old woman's head until her glass eye shot out like a champagne cork, into Connor's open mouth.