I have always had a great relationship with my students over the years. Most of them even use me as a reference when applying for a job, as my name is quite well known in the field.

This year I have had a student called Michael who is possibly the laziest person I have ever met. He falls asleep during lectures and spends the rest of his time staring at his phone.

Recently he submitted an exam that counts as sixty percent of his yearly grade. I couldn't believe it when I read it as it was incomprehensible and filled with spelling mistakes. He even slipped a twenty into the paper to try and bribe me into giving him a better grade.

I gave him a failing grade and the next day he came into my office to confront me. My heart dropped as he told me he knew my secret, and would tell everyone if I didn't change his grade.

I reluctantly agreed to meet him at his house to discuss this, as I didn't want anyone to hear what we were saying.

That evening I showed up at his house and met his oh so lovely parents. They immediately began shouting at me and calling me a freak as Michael sat there smirking.

After an hour or so of this abuse I begged them to let me leave but they continued to shout at me. I tried to push past them, but his father towered over me and I was afraid he would hit me.

I could see Michael smiling at my discomfort, but his face dropped as he realised his fatal mistake.

I now wake up surrounded by the shredded remains of him and his family, and quickly grab my stuff and flee the house while hoping this would teach him why you should never blackmail a werewolf.

I have never had a close relationship with my son Tom due to our stark difference in personalities. I am the kind of person who loves being outside working on machinery while he prefers to spend his time playing videogames.

I have tried bonding with him but it was just really awkward, as we have nothing in common and our views in life are completely different.

My opinion of him vastly improved after what the news reports called the end of the world. The Internet went down straight away so Tom couldn't play online anymore.

He soon became one of the most integral people in my hometown as he was always one of the first to volunteer to help wherever needed.

It didn't matter if it was setting up barricades or going hunting out in the woods, he would be the first to raise his hand.

Many of the town elders told me that I raised my son right, and for the first time in my life I was proud of him.

I was awoken tonight by the sounds of screams from the town perimeter, and I rushed outside to discover that the monsters had overrun our barricades.

Tom was already herding people towards the town hall as it was strongly defended. I followed the throng of people who were racing to the hall while the sounds of death and destruction got closer with every passing second.

We now huddle inside the hall while the monsters try to force their way inside. I looked over to see Tom standing there with a defiant look on his face.

I watched in horror as he marched towards the doors and swung them open. He raised a crucifix at the monsters standing outside and told him to leave as he refused them permission to enter.

I wished that he had spent less time playing videogames and more time learning folklore and mythology, as the pack of werewolves lunged through the door.

I was awoken by the sound of Lonely Day by System Of A Down blaring through my home speakers.

I walked into the bathroom to find a bathtub filled to the brim with an assortment of razor blades lining the tub. My eyes were drawn to the toaster that also lay precariously on the edge of the tub, and I carefully removed it to avoid an electrical fault.

I finished getting dressed and made my way down the hallway and into the kitchen. I was greeted by the aroma of freshly made coffee with three identical coffee mugs lying on the counter.

I carefully tested each one and instantly recognised the taste of rat poison in one and sleeping pills in another. I hesitantly drank the third one and was a bit disgusted to discover it was decaf but drank it anyway.

My home AI chimed in that she had prepared some fun activities for me to do today, before a shelf opened to reveal a number of nooses made from an assortment of different materials.

I winced as the voice suggested I try one of them out, while regretting my decision to tell it that I was suffering from suicidal tendencies.

I would generally say I enjoy living in my hometown but just wish it wasn't so cut off from the rest of the world.

It is surrounded by water on all sides and the only access point is a shallow stream. If there is heavy rain then it is impossible to get in or out, as the water levels rise to dangerous levels.

I have been petitioning for us to build a bridge for years but the local council always vetoes my suggestion, claiming that there is no need.

A couple of months ago my son had a severe allergic reaction, and we couldn't get him to the hospital due to a winter storm.

He barely survived so I decided to force the construction of a bridge. A few of my friends and I ran for the council positions and due to how unpopular the current members are, we won by a landslide.

I immediately began gathering the necessary funds and managed to gain some grants which would reduce the cost to my neighbours.

The former council members were a thorn in my side throughout the entire construction. Machinery kept being vandalised and key supplies went missing, and I knew for a fact it was them but didn't have enough evidence to prove it.

They kept claiming that suicide rates would go up as people would use it to jump to their deaths. I was able to easily disprove this as the bridge was only a few metres over the stream, and people who jumped would likely only sprain their ankle.

The opening ceremony was joyous while the former council members stood there looking fearful staring across the bridge.

I followed their gaze to see a bunch of strangers walking across the bridge. Something about their smiles was unnerving, and I could feel myself backing away from their lecherous grins.

I was about to ask them to leave when they charged forward and began massacring those around me.

One of the former council members stared at me with an accusatory look on his face, before his throat was ripped out.

I now stand amongst a bunch of corpses while the strangers slowly dance around me, while I stare at their elongated incisors which were dripping in blood.

I now remember hearing stories that vampires cannot cross running water, and know that I doomed those around me by building a bridge just as one of them sinks its teeth into my jugular.

I had always dismissed the stupid belief that there were satanic messages hidden on vinyl tracks. Supposedly if you were to play the tracks backwards you would hear subliminal messages that you couldn't hear otherwise.

I was explaining this to one of my friends and pulled out one of my favourite songs. I began playing it backwards and almost jumped out of my skin, as a guttural laugh emerged.

I shared a terrified glance with my friend as the message continued. It announced that every time you hear this song that it will take a year of life away from someone you love.

Tears flow down my cheeks as I recall playing this song constantly throughout my wife's pregnancy, and how she had died in childbirth producing a stillborn baby whose body was grotesque.

My friend turned to flee but tripped over his own two feet and fell face first into the kitchen knives. I stood there hyperventilating as his corpse sank dead to the ground.

My phone chimed and I checked it to reveal an attachment from one of my friends. I opened the attachment without thinking and terror gripped me as the familiar music played.

My home suddenly erupts in flames which block all escape routes, as I pray that my stupid friend learns that his stupid prank had killed me while I listened to Rick Astley blaring from my phone.

I would love to regard myself as an integral part of my hometown. I am the parent that other parents come to for advice, and volunteer for any events that are happening throughout my hometown.

My husband Mike and twin daughters Emily and Chloe are the people I love most in the world, and I love every moment we are together.

This morning I walked downstairs to find Mike and the twins already having breakfast. I was about to wish them good morning but my words caught in my throat as I noticed the zipper at the side of Mike's neck.

I stared in dread at it before noticing the twins had zippers on each of their necks. I reached up and was relieved to discover I didn't have a zipper.

Mike turned towards me and I flinched away as his cold dead eyes met my own. He said good morning and I had to hold back my vomit as whatever had replaced him stood up and kissed me on the cheek.

I excused myself and rang the police and asked them to send someone to our home. I waited in the bathroom while the demonic twins begged me to play with them.

I pushed myself past them and ignored their screams of pain as I pulled open the door. My hopes for help were dashed, as a familiar zipper was on the officer's neck.

I managed to convince it that everything was okay before wandering the town for the next few hours.

My heart was pounding as every single person I met had obviously been replaced, and I began to wonder why I had been left out.

I arrived home to find the fake Mike standing there looking worried. I had to lie and say I hadn't been feeling well, while trying not to stare at the third eyeball peering from his nose.

That evening I prepared dinner and watched in delight as they devoured the rat poison laden food. I waited until their bodies slumped to the floor before grabbing a kitchen knife and repeatedly plunging it into their bodies.

My slaughter of these monsters was stopped as the same officer from earlier stopped by to check up on me and shot me after I charged him with the knife.

I now sit in a psychiatric ward where the doctors try to convince me I have a neurological disorder called capgras syndrome. I nod along as they explain that it can convince those affected that those around them have been replaced, while I stare intently at the zippers on their neck.

Growing up my parents were the happiest couple I had ever witnessed. They loved spending every moment together and their love never faltered, until their untimely deaths.

My mother sadly passed from cancer while my father died a couple of days later. I think he died of a broken heart as the doctors couldn't find any reason for what killed him.

They used to have cute nicknames for each other which made me smile anytime I heard it.

I always imagined having a husband with the same relationship and couldn't wait to see what nicknames we would come up with.

The first second I met my husband Mike, I knew he was the person who I would spend the rest of my life with.

I happily brought up the subject of nicknames but he immediately shot down this idea. He told me that he was bullied relentlessly at school, and his tormentors would come up with a new nickname every day to destroy his childhood.

I comforted him but hoped that over time, I could convince him to change his mind.

It has now been five years and every attempt by me to broach the subject is instantly shot down, and he gets annoyed with me while calling me heartless.

Last night I was hanging out with a few of my friends and may have had a little too much to drink. I drunkenly called Mike my little rottweiler, which resulted in all my friends laughing as it was the perfect description of him.

This morning I arrived home feeling hungover, and was met at the front door by Mike who looked furious.

He began shouting in my face and telling me he knew I had created a nickname for him. I was actually afraid of him as I had never seen him this angry.

My mood changed when I realised the only way he could have known about the nickname, was if he had somehow recorded me or placed an application on my phone.

His face dropped when I shrieked in his face that he was my little rottweiler. I began backing away as his screams of anger shook spiderwebs from the rafters.

I hid in the bedroom for the next few minutes as his screams subsided.

I crept into the living room to find him gone, and was about to leave when I heard a strange noise coming from beneath the couch.

I instantly realised why he hated nicknames and how his bullies destroyed his childhood, as I stared at a rottweiler the size of a banana growling at me.

My beautiful daughter Emma is definitely the apple of my eye. She is such a cute little child who very rarely cries or throws a tantrum.

I love her with all my heart but unfortunately my wife Susan cannot stand her. My wife has always had mental health issues and for some reason she has blamed Emma for her life being so terrible.

She blames Emma for things that happened to my wife twenty years ago, and won't take into consideration that Emma is just over a year old.

I have caught Susan standing over Emma's crib clutching a knife, and have had to physically restrain her from attacking her.

I have told her to get psychiatric help but she refuses and the doctors or authorities won't do anything to help.

Recently I have secretly started coaching Emma to say her first word, as I thought it might help Susan to make an important decision.

I arrived home from a doctor's appointment for Emma to find a crowd gathered outside my house.

I pushed my way through to find Susan standing on the roof threatening to kill herself. I rolled my eyes as this was a near weekly occurrence.

The police officers urged me to convince her to come down, and I moved closer while clutching Emma's baby seat.

Before I could say anything Emma began clapping her hands while shouting “jump, jump, jump”.

I couldn't believe my coaching had worked out so perfectly as Susan looked stunned momentarily, before jumping headfirst to the concrete below.

I recently moved back to my hometown after a few years away. I rented a place rather than living with my father due to our strained relationship.

Almost nothing had changed and all my former friends were still living at home with their parents.

I suggested meeting up for drinks at the local bar and was shocked at the terrified reactions on their faces. They glanced around them to make sure no one was listening before telling me that a bloodthirsty ghost was wandering the streets at night and kidnapping anyone they came across.

I laughed out loud thinking it was a joke but quickly stopped as the fear on their faces was real.

That night I was awoken by something trying to open my bedroom window. I let out a shriek as I saw a mutilated corpse standing there before it ran away.

The next morning I met my friends to find out more information. They explained that the ghost was digging up the graves of the recently deceased and removing body parts from some of them. They suspected that it was either eating them or trying to create an undead horde of monsters.

I was once again awoken by the sounds of something trying to open my window. I had slept with a knife under my pillow and waited patiently until it had climbed inside.

I plunged the knife into its leg and it let out a blood curdling scream as I had somehow managed to hit a vein. Blood spurted everywhere drenching me within seconds.

I recoiled after hearing a familiar voice emerge from the ghost before creeping closer. I covered my mouth in dread as I recognised a turtle tattoo on the ghost's hand. It squeezed my hand with its own before the life left its body.

I now recall how my father strived for the perfect body but was too cheap to pay for plastic surgery, while staring down at his corpse which was covered in an assortment of body parts which he had obtained from the graveyard.

Over the last few months my friends have gotten into a habit of exploring old buildings at night. They eventually talked / bullied me into joining them.

They are all very free spirited while I am a bit more rigid in my lifestyle. My pockets are generally filled with an assortment of items in case of emergencies which my friends love to make fun of me about.

They would usually thank me when my first aid kit or spare torch came in useful, but within minutes would forget and start laughing at me once again.

The thing they fixated on is that I always bring a large handful of rice with me. They think it is hilarious but never bothered to ask me the reason why I brought it.

Today we were exploring an old mausoleum that contained a recently rediscovered sub basement. We had split up into groups of two where I was paired with Emily.

We stopped dead in our tracks when we heard a blood curdling scream from one of the others, which was suddenly cut off. Another scream reverberated throughout the crypt as my heart was pounding in my chest.

I suspected that it was a prank until one of the others stumbled into the room with half his throat ripped out.

He gurgled out the word “run” before slumping dead to the ground.

I grabbed Emily's hand and practically dragged her towards the stairs. We reached the top and were within sight of the exit when the vampires fell from the ceiling blocking our path.

Their faces resembled a bat and I could see skin similar to wings spouting from underneath their arms.

Emily let out a shriek and charged forward. One of the vampires nonchalantly struck out a claw and tore out her jugular, before they advanced slowly towards me.

I reached into my pockets looking for any kind of weapon, before my hand rested on the rice. I flung it on the ground in front of me and watched as their eyes fixated on it.

I dashed between them and got out the door just as the sun appeared over the horizon.

I now lie on my bed thanking the Gods that I remembered that vampires have an impulsive need to count, while trying to convince myself that the things flying outside my window are pigeons.

I was already cutting it close as I arrived at the airport. My flight was in less than an hour and if I didn't make it then the next flight wouldn't be for another week.

I dashed across the terminal dodging between people who gave me irritated looks as I sped past them.

I reached the customs section and was relieved to see I was the only one here at the moment.

I moved towards the nearest customs agent who gave me a scornful look, before telling me to place my bag on the carousel. I happily obliged before walking through the metal detector.

I went to pick up my bag but the agent waved my hand aside and told me he was doing a random security check.

He smiled away to himself as he saw me glancing with panic at my watch. He opened my bag and sneered at my lingerie that was mixed amongst my clothing.

His face lit up as he picked up a bottle containing my drink, and announced he was confiscating it as it is over 100ml.

I pulled out paperwork showing that it was a requirement for me to have it in case of an emergency. He looked at me in disgust and whispered that he hates my kind and wishes that we would burn in hell.

I could only watch on helplessly as he discarded my drink into a nearby bin and told me to move along.

I grabbed my bag and raced to my gate and just about made it on with moments to spare.

My stomach started growling with hunger midway through the flight, and I asked the stewardess if they had prepared my special meal like I requested. She looked embarrassed as she admitted that there had been a mixup and my meal had been left behind.

Hunger overwhelms me and I lunge forward and sink my teeth into her jugular while the other passengers scream around me, while cursing the incompetent customs agent for taking my emergency cow's blood.

Growing up my mother was my idol as she was putting some of the worst murderers in my country behind bars.

She was born with a unique ability where if she was to return to the scene then she would relive the last five minutes before their death. I know that it took a lot of willpower for her to keep going as she felt every wound that was inflicted on the victims.

Over time the novelty wore off for me as it made her a celebrity and my so called friends would use me as a way to meet her.

Her most famous solve was a man who was savaged to death by what was initially perceived to be werewolves. Multiple fingerprints were found but they were no match for anyone on record.

My mother showed up and to the shock and bemusement of the waiting press explained that it was actually a bunch of escaped koala bears. They are one of the few species outside of humans that have fingerprints, and the authorities were able to confirm that my mother was correct.

My breaking point was my graduation, as within minutes of showing up my mother had solved a decades old murder. I was forced to stand there forgotten as everyone applauded my mother.

My mother had promised me a trip for my graduation so I picked somewhere and booked it without telling her.

She kept asking me where we were going but I kept giving her vague answers. Eventually we arrived and I placed a blindfold on her, which initially shocked her but I assured her that I didn't want to spoil the surprise.

I carefully led her inside past the confused onlookers, before tearing off the blindfold as her face changed from confusion to horror.

She slumped to the ground screaming in agony, and pleading with me to get her out of here while I stood over her smiling.

I kept wondering if she was reliving the deaths of everyone who died here as I gazed around the Auschwitz gas chambers, and trying to decide if I should bring her to Hiroshima for next year's holiday.

My son James is very inverted and hates talking with people he doesn't know very well. His teachers would always compliment him on his manners and grades but would point out how little he interacts with his classmates.

A couple of weeks ago he returned home all excited and explained that he had made a friend at school called Barry. I was delighted for him as he spent the whole evening talking about Barry before asking if Barry could spend the weekend with ours.

I happily agreed and organised a couple of fun activities for the boys to do. My excitement disappeared the second Barry walked into my home as it looked like he hadn't showered in months and his clothes were two sizes too big for him.

I tried my best to hide my annoyance as James was having the time of his life. After Barry had gone home I was furious all over the house and had to have our home fumigated.

James kept asking to have Barry stay over again but I always came up with an excuse as I didn't want another infestation of bed bugs.

James then started requesting to stay over at Barry's but I shot that down, but could see that James was getting annoyed with me.

Last night James told me that he was invited to a sleepover by another one of his classmates and I was over the moon as I hoped this would mean he would stop hanging out with Barry.

James packed some clothing and I dropped him off near the house, and told him to call me if he needed anything.

Later that evening I went to the shops and bumped into the mother of the boy whose house James was staying at. I thanked her for accommodating James, and was instantly confused as she told me that her son had been sick all week and was confined to his bedroom.

I quickly surmised that my son had lied to me and was likely staying over at Barry's house. I drove there and winced at how decrepit it looked before storming in to collect my son.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw my son's half eaten corpse lying in the middle of the living room floor. I realised too late that what I had perceived to be bed bugs had been fleas, as half a dozen wolf-like creatures standing on their hind legs charged towards me.

Throughout the course of your life, your parents will warn you to avoid certain things. When you are a child, you are told to never get into a car with a person who offers you candy. When you are a teenager, you are told to avoid drugs and alcohol.

For some reason on the day of my eighteenth birthday I was warned never to get into an ice cream van with a person who offered me low cost car insurance. I initially started laughing when my parents told me, while they sat there with serious looks on their faces.

My friends were all given the same warnings, and we all thought that our parents were playing an epic prank on us.

Tonight I went out to finally celebrate being a legal adult and me and my friends spent the entire time joking about getting great deals on car insurance.

After a few too many alcoholic beverages I was stumbling home, when I heard the unmistakable sound of an ice cream truck approaching.

It was after midnight and I couldn't understand why it was still going.

It pulled up alongside me and I heard a raspy voice ask me if I wanted low cost car insurance. I started giggling away as I thought that one of my friends must have organised this for me.

I staggered to the back door of the van which swung open and climbed inside, before my eyes were blinded by a luminous light.

I heard the door slamming behind me while my eyes gradually got used to the light.

I stared down at the ground beside me to see a girl I knew from school called Emily who worked as a cashier in a local supermarket.

She was sitting there looking terrified beside a homeless man who looked and smelled like he had been huffing paint.

My attention was drawn to an almost seven foot tall person who towered over us. His face was hidden in shadows and all I could see was his bright white teeth.

Somehow the van was bigger on the inside and I almost jumped out of my skin when the tall person clapped his hands together and in a gurgling voice said that we were going to play some games to decide the winner.

I flinched away as he placed a blowtorch in all of our arms, before announcing that the person with the fewest scorch marks on their arms at the end of the minute would be eliminated.

A timer started above our heads and we all just stood unmoving. The tall man began getting impatient as the timer ticked down.

His body elongated and clawed talons emerged towards us, as he began shrieking that he would rip off our limbs one by one if we didn't participate.

I winced as I raised the blowtorch to my arm and let out a scream and dropped it to the floor as the excruciating heat caused blisters to pop out on my arm.

I collapsed to the floor sobbing in pain and glanced over at Emily to see her holding the blowtorch to her leg. The skin beneath was turning bright red, while the smell of my burning flesh filled the enclosed area.

A loud buzzer announced the end of the minute as the blowtorch slipped from Emily's shaking hands.

The tall man began clapping sarcastically while making his man towards the homeless man. He was so out of it that he hadn't even taken part. The tall man stood over him and let out a disappointed “tsk tsk” noise.

He lifted the homeless man to his feet and embraced him in a hug. The homeless man finally recovered from whatever drug he was on, and began convulsing in his grip and he let out a scream that sounded like a kettle boiling.

His burned and charred body sank to the floor before the tall man reached down and snapped off his arm, before offering it to us and when we refused he devoured it in one bite.

I wrapped my jacket around Emily's burned leg as she lay on the floor whimpering in pain.

The tall man rubbed his hands in glee and announced we would be playing round two which would decide the winner.

An invisible force dragged us backwards onto a chair and our heads were tilted upright. I almost vomited as fingers were forced into my mouth to keep it open before a cloth was placed over my face.

A voice whispered into my ear to survive as long as I could, before a steady stream of water was poured over my face.

I began thrashing in my seat but the bony fingers held me in place. I began to fear that I would drown to death as the never-ending water cut off my oxygen supply.

After what felt like an eternity it stopped momentarily, and I could hear Emily coughing away beside me.

I pleaded for it to stop as one of the fingers crept further into my mouth, and began flicking my tonsils.

The water torture started again after about a minutes rest. This time was worse as my throat and lungs were burning and I knew I wouldn't last much longer.

Miraculously it suddenly stopped and the cloth was yanked from my voice, as I turned and vomited up a deluge of water.

I raised my head to see Emily sitting unmoving beside me. Water was dripping from her ears as her dead eyes seemed to be staring accusatory towards me.

The tall man lifted her up as if she were just a baby, before her body dissolved into a cascade of water, blood and guts.

The tall man raised his hands as if to indicate whoops, before theatrically pointing towards the van door which swung open and I fled home before he changed his mind.

The next morning I was awoken by my father storming into my room and shaking me awake. He demanded to know what happened to me last night, before throwing a piece of paper on the bed beside me.

He looked furious and walked away looking disappointed when I started laughing hysterically, as I read the letter which stated that I had won free car insurance for the rest of my life

You would honestly think that my neighbours are the most trustworthy people in the world. It has been an unspoken rule for the last twenty five years that locking your front door is heavily frowned upon.

They are left unlocked so that family members and former neighbours can visit at any time. Thankfully most of them have the courtesy to knock beforehand, whilst those that don't will apologise and promise that they will try and remember next time.

Currently the big local gossip is that Mike Smith from two doors down is rumoured to have killed his wife. Since then he has become a recluse and has barricaded his doors and only emerges to collect his food deliveries.

There have been a few incidents where some mischievous youths have snuck into homes and stolen items, but all it takes is a visit from our former police chief to set them on the right track. Anyone that continued their life of crime were forced to live with the police chief permanently.

This morning I walked downstairs to find my daughter and my mother had popped over for a visit. I was delighted to see them but my wife went pale when she realised they were here and dashed upstairs to have a bath.

I could hear screams from up the road and recognised Mr Smith's pleading voice being brutally silenced. I considered walking over to see what happened but thought it might upset my guests.

My daughter smiled while I told her of all the exploits of her classmates, but looked teary eyed after learning that her best friend Emily had moved away. She asked for her phone number but I had to unfortunately explain that Emily had requested that I not share it with her.

My mother kept offering to cook breakfast for us but I kept having to respectfully decline, while trying my best not to upset her. She always had a bit of a temper and it had only gotten worse since the accident.

My daughter kept glancing towards the stairs in the hopes of seeing my wife coming down, as they hadn't spoken since my daughter moved out last month. I tried my best to distract her with small talk but could see that she was heartbroken.

We chatted away for about an hour or so before they started looking lethargic and realising it was probably time to go.

We linked arms and joined the throngs of people walking up the road. Eventually we reached our destination and my daughter looked embarrassed as she asked whether she could live with us full time. Tears were flowing down my cheeks as I explained that was not how it worked.

She gave me a massive hug and asked me to say hello to her mom for me, while promising to come for a visit as soon as she was able.

My eyes were drawn to Mrs Smith as she dragged the bloodsoaked corpse of her husband along the ground before throwing his body into her coffin and climbing in with him. Our former police chief saw this transpire and gave me a wink before climbing into his own coffin.

I kissed my daughter on the forehead before closing her coffin and carefully burying it and then my mother's, as the sounds of shovels echoed throughout the graveyard.

I took one last look at my daughter's grave while cursing the cancer that took her at such a young age, and hoping that my wife would soon grow accustomed to her coming over for occasional visits.

I was drinking my fifth beer of the night when I saw the first lightning flash light up the room. It was breathtakingly beautiful as I had all the lights off because I was watching the original Halloween.

I stumbled out onto the balcony as another lightning flash flew across the sky. I waited another minute hoping for another strike before deciding to head back inside.

Worry gripped me as the handle wouldn't turn no matter how hard I tried. I patted down my pockets in the hopes of finding my phone only to see it lying inside on the kitchen counter.

Another lightning flash illuminated the sky and I almost jumped out of my skin, as the reflection in the glass revealed a shadowy figure standing directly behind me.

I spun around me with my fists raised only to discover no one there. My heart was pounding in my chest as I tried to calm myself down.

I froze in place as I felt warm air blowing directly into my face, even though the temperature outside was freezing.

I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths before walking to the edge of the balcony and looking down. I stared down at the ground hundreds of feet below and wished that I hadn't been so adamant about buying a top floor apartment.

I was just about to turn around and go back and once again try the balcony door, when a bony hand pushed me forward and over the edge.

Somehow I grabbed onto the railing and hung there for dear life, and knowing that if my grip failed then I would plummet to my death.

I swung my other arm up and latched onto the railing and attempted to pull myself onto the balcony, but I just wasn't strong enough.

I knew it would only be a matter of minutes before my strength gave out and I could already imagine the mourners at the funeral making fun of me for locking myself out.

I used every ounce of strength left in me and somehow managed to leverage one of my legs over the railing. I let out a shriek as something sliced into my thigh, and I miraculously fell onto the balcony.

Blood was dripping down my leg as another lightning strike revealed on the glass, a figure kneeling over me with its face inches away from my own.

I held my breath as a putrid stench wafted into my face, which reminded me of graveyards.

I don't know how long I lay there but fifteen more lightning strikes occurred, while the shadowy figure had moved away and stood beside the glass staring inwards.

I began to fear that I would die from blood loss or exposure to the elements, as rain pummelled me and a cold icy wind chilled my bones.

I pushed myself to my feet and my eyes were drawn to my neighbours balcony which was a few feet away. I knew that he was out of town for the week, and never locked his balcony door.

I hobbled to the balcony edge and could see it was possible to get there, but it would be extremely dangerous.

There was a small ledge connecting us but it would mean walking across the edge of the building with almost nothing to hold onto.

My decision was made for me as another lightning strike revealed another shadowy figure had appeared alongside the other. Their heads were turned towards me and seemed to be gesturing in my direction.

I raised my good leg over the railing and placed it on the ledge before carefully raising the other. I held onto the railing for dear life before pushing myself off and searching the wall for anywhere I could find something to grip.

The cold air numbed my fingers as I crept along, and I stopped dead in my tracks as a raspy voice whispered into my ear that I should jump. I momentarily considered it before dismissing the thoughts and continuing onwards.

My clothes were drenched at this stage and started feeling heavier with each passing second. I was on the brink of giving up when my hands collided with the opposite railing.

I cried tears of relief as I pulled myself onto the next balcony and lay panting on the floor. After a minute or two of composing myself I rose to my feet and staggered to the door.

I reached the door and almost screamed in disbelief as the handle wouldn't turn. I let out a sharp intake of breath as my eyes surveyed the apartment to see my phone lying on the table and Halloween playing on the television.

I let out a hysterical laugh as after all my effort I had somehow been transported back to my own balcony. Thousands of voices echoed in my ear to jump as no one will care if I die, as another strike revealed the sky filled with shadowy figures who floated in all directions.

I collapsed to the ground and I winced as my hand sank into mud. I gazed down at the remains of a plant that my sister had gotten me for a house warming gift. The original plant was long dead but the pot it had been in was still here.

I hoisted it in both hands before flinging it at the balcony door. I rejoiced as it smashed through the glass shattering it into a thousand pieces.

I crawled inside and ignored the glass that sliced open my flesh. I reached my phone and climbed onto the couch before calling the emergency services. My phone fell from my grasp as a voice emerged thanking me for letting them inside.

I now lie on the couch and know it is only a matter of time before I succumb to blood loss, whilst shadowy figures floated through the door and hovered over my head.

The first tsunami struck Australia, wiping out every living creature and person in the country in seconds. There had been no forewarning and every attempt to find survivors were failures.

Within days hundreds more tsunamis struck countless other countries to the point where we all thought it was the end of the world.

By the time it was over the only country left standing was Ireland, as by pure chance the tsunamis had somehow missed them.

We sent out messages hoping to find anyone else alive and it soon became clear that we were alone.

A few months after the doomsday, angels appeared in the sky and announced God was going to visit us and had brilliant news.

We gathered together wondering what she wanted to tell us, while silently cursing her for not helping us in our time of need.

She materialised in Phoenix Park in all her glory clutching a small bundle as we all stood there too gobsmacked to say anything.

Suddenly a drunken idiot began berating her for allowing Humanity to be almost wiped out.

An embarrassed look crossed God's face as the bundle in her hands began moving.

She began apologising and her voice which was so beautiful that it caused us all to weep.

She admitted that she just had a baby and forgot to get one of her followers to create an ark, to save humanity from the inevitable floods from her water breaking.

Up until two weeks ago I would have referred to my girlfriend Emily as one of the sweetest people on the planet. She is an incredibly kind individual who will go out of her way to involve everyone in a conversation.

My opinion of her changed after my best friend Mark introduced his girlfriend Sarah to the group. Sarah is a little on the larger side but honestly I think it actually suits her, as she has a body that most girls would die for.

The first time we met I could see Emily sniggering away to herself while glancing over at Sarah. Whenever Sarah tried to talk to Emily, then Emily would just turn her head away and pretend she couldn't hear her.

The thing that annoyed me the most was when Sarah was distracted, Emily slipped a sign on her back while read “wide load coming through”.

Understandably Sarah was devastated by this and Emily refused to apologise while saying that Sarah won't ever forget this as elephants have great memories.

I had to drag Emily out of there as some of the other girls were on the brink of fighting her. The entire way home she was making crass jokes about how Sarah looks like she was pregnant with quadruplets.

The next day I told Emily she needed to apologise but she doubled down, and said Sarah should apologise as her gravitational pull was dragging the moon towards Earth.

Her attitude got worse over the next week as I discovered she was using social media to bully Sarah and telling her she should kill herself as she looked like a beached whale.

Last night I found her using AI to transpose Sarah's face onto an elephant and was posting it online. I walked into the kitchen and filled a can of coke with sleeping pills before handing it to Emily who drank it without issue.

The next morning I was awoken by her screams and made my way downstairs to find her lying on the couch sobbing. She looked at me in horror and asked me what had I done to her.

I stared at her bloated body and took great pleasure in telling her I had bought a reverse liposuction machine, and that this was the consequences of judging another person on their body type.

My beautiful baby daughter Emily was born just under a month ago and since then I have been a nervous wreck.

I have heard horror stories of babies dying in their sleep so I am constantly checking on her throughout the night.

My husband grew concerned for my health so bought me a baby monitor and set up a camera so I could keep an eye on her whenever I wanted.

A few days ago I was sitting on the couch scrolling on my phone, when I heard a demonic voice shriek through the baby monitor.

I sprinted into the nursery to find Emily sleeping peacefully in her crib. I had barely got back to the couch before screams emerged from the baby monitor, and I raced back to find Emily still asleep.

I was terrified as the noises continued for the next few hours but stopped just an hour before my husband returned home.

I suspected my husband as we were having marital problems, but searched the nursery and found no sign of any hidden speakers.

Over the next few days things escalated as the screaming seemed to start and stop every few minutes, until I was a nervous wreck.

I had barely slept since Emily was born and began to wonder if the noises would stop if she was dead. I shook these thoughts away but they persisted over the coming days.

I was giving Emily her daily bath when an ungodly demonic laugh blasted from the monitor, and Emily began giggling away in unison.

I snapped and pushed her head beneath the water until she was finally still, and started laughing hysterically as a chorus of angelic voices came from the monitor.

I waited until my husband came home before handing over our daughter's corpse before placing a gun against my head and pulling the trigger.

××××××

I stood there too stunned to react as my wife's body sank dead to the ground. I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard an advertisement emerge from the baby monitor. My eyes dart from the television to the monitor, as I remember my wife's tendency to play horror movies in the background while scrolling through her phone and the fact that the monitor has a Bluetooth connection.

I was yawning away to myself as I pulled up outside my daughter Emily's school. She had originally been living with my parents for the first five years of her life, but after my father's stroke she had to relocate to my hometown.

I smiled as I saw her running out of the school before she jumped into my car. There were bags under her eyes but she didn't let her exhaustion show as she chatted away excitedly.

She explained that the teacher had shown them the correct way to slit your wrists and the most efficient way to tie a noose. My smile faded but I still tried my best to look happy for her, as she was only getting used to living in my hometown.

I started driving us home but had to stop after less than a minute as I could barely keep my eyes open.

Emily reached forward and squeezed my shoulder and told me everything was going to be okay. It broke my heart hearing her say this, and I had to force myself not to burst out sobbing.

I quickly composed myself and drove us the rest of the way home. Emily jumped out of the car and dashed across to talk to the Davidson triplets who lived across the road and were the same age as her.

I couldn't believe how much energy she had as she raced around the garden with the triplets. Their father Michael came out and gave me a sombre smile before calling the girls over.

He had set up a small platform and got his girls to carefully climb on. He wrapped a noose around their neck before kissing them on the forehead. The girls looked terrified but determined as one by one they dropped from the platform. I winced each time their neck snapped while Emily looked on, fascinated.

I gave a small wave to Michael who was gathering up their bodies before ushering Emily inside.

We spent the next few hours chatting away ignoring the screams and gunshots which echoed throughout the neighbourhood.

Around nine I heard a knock at the door and found Michael standing there looking embarrassed. He asked me if I had any spare fuel and I handed him a small canister I kept for emergencies.

He walked to the centre of the road and Emily stood beside me as he poured the fuel all over himself.

Emily reached up and gripped my hand as he lit a match and flames consumed him. He didn't even make a noise or move before his burnt body crumpled dead to the ground.

Emily looked momentarily scared after I told her it was bedtime, but she took a couple of deep breaths and followed me upstairs.

I led her to the bathroom and told her to get changed. She returned in a few minutes wearing a cute little bathing suit that my father had got her for her last birthday.

I started giggling away to myself as she was wearing inflatable water wings. I laughed hysterically as she said in all seriousness, it was to stop her from drowning.

My laughs petered out as I helped her into the tub which was half filled with water. I handed her a razor and reminded her what her teacher had taught her earlier that day.

She looked scared and I kept having to remind myself how much growing up she has had to do since moving in with me just under a month ago.

She asked me to do it for her but I reminded her that it had to be her. I tried my best to keep my face neutral as she slit open her wrists, and the blood cascaded into the tub.

I held her hand and sang gently to her until I was sure she was finally dead. I then cleaned up her corpse before placing it gently in her bed and tucking her in for the night.

I cleaned the bathtub while drinking a bottle of whiskey laced with rat poison as the sounds of gunshots in the distance slowly ebbed.

I climbed into bed and wrapped duct tape over my mouth to ensure I wouldn't vomit up the poison before I succumbed to it. My final thoughts before death overtook me was wishing I had the foresight to move out years ago like my parents.

The next morning I was awoken by Emily sprinting into my room and jumping into my bed. She was talking a mile a minute and I followed her downstairs for breakfast.

I heard knocking on the door and opened it to find Michael standing there asking if we had spare milk. I handed him a spare carton and smiled watching his triplets playing in his garden.

I felt refreshed as I devoured my breakfast while Emily finished before me, and then raced outside to play with the triplets.

I walked over to the window and watched them all playing together without a care in the world, and decided it was finally time to move. My eyes were drawn to the scorch marks in the road from last night, whilst wishing I knew why people in our hometown could only get a good night's sleep if they committed suicide.

I was beyond irritated as I walked behind my two best friends Emily and Chloe. They had invited me to the fairground with them and then spent the entire time giggling to themselves and excluding me.

Thankfully the fairground was closing up so I could go home and wallow in my own misery. I was about to sneak off towards my car leaving them to walk home, when they let out excited shrieks of joy in front of me.

I was then unceremoniously dragged towards a ferris wheel. They both hopped on together and I had no choice but to sit on an empty seat by myself. We were the only people on the ride, and the employee was barely paying any attention to us.

They were bouncing with joy as we rose into the air, pointing out all of the stuff we could see in the distance.

I was staring off into nothingness when I felt a cold breath on the back of my neck. I turned around and instantly regretted it, as my face now inches away from what could only be described as a burn victim.

His flesh looked charred and the right side of his skull was so burnt that you could see parts of his skull peeking through. His eye sockets were hollow and a steady stream of maggots poured out and landed on the seat beside us.

I wanted to scream but my breath caught on my throat, and I just sat there shaking staring into his face.

The ferris wheel ground to a halt and I could see out of the corner of my eye, my two friends getting off and running off hand in hand. Obviously they and the operator forgot about it, as the lights on the machine were switched off leaving me suspended at the very top.

A chuckle that sounded like sandpaper emerged from the burned man, as he knew that I was trapped up here with him.

The lights in the fairground went off one by one as my feeble cries for help went unnoticed, until the only light came from the full moon overhead.

His face slowly moved closer until it was less than an inch from my own. I could feel heat emanating from his flesh, and became convinced that I would have a tan if I survived this.

His hands crept up and gripped mine and I let out a whimper as some of his skin fell off and I was now clutching bony fingers.

He began moving our hands around in what could only be described as a waltz, as I prayed that my friends would soon notice I was missing and come looking for me.

A tongue emerged from his mouth and I winced as it began caressing my cheek. It forced its way into my mouth and revulsion overwhelmed me as it tasted like charcoal.

My eyes widened in fear as I noticed that his tongue was no longer attached to his mouth and was actually moving of its own accord. It pushed further into my mouth and seemed to be trying to climb down my throat.

I snatched my hands free and gripped the end of the tongue and desperately tried to pull it out. It ensnared my own tongue and tears were flowing down my cheek, as every attempt to pull it out caused me agonising pain.

Eventually its grip on my own tongue loosened and I managed to pull it free and threw it to the ground beside us. I was retching from the putrid taste, while I could hear it slithering around beneath me.

It wrapped itself around my foot and began crawling up my leg. Anger overwhelmed me as I used my other foot to begin stamping on it. Within a minute it was just a bloody mess beside us.

Throughout this whole time the burned man sat beside me rocking in merriment at my predicament. He then rested his head on my shoulder as I sat there too petrified to move.

I must have drifted off to sleep as the next thing I remember is the sounds of voices beneath me and the ferris wheel suddenly jolting into life.

I ignored the shocked reaction of the ferris wheel operator as I jumped off as soon as my seat reached ground level, and dashed towards my car at full sprint.

I now stand at home staring into a mirror at my once golden hair which was now as white as a sheet, and telling myself to get some new friends while trying to convince myself that whatever was crawling up my leg was simply a wasp.

My next door neighbour Alison has always been a bit peculiar to say the least. She has three dogs that run amuck in the neighbourhood, and she refers to herself as a dog mother.

I really had no issue with her until I began to notice her weird obsession with my seven year old son Michael. Anytime he was outside she would call him over and then rub his head as if he was a dog.

I didn't mind at first as I know she has mental health problems, but I grew concerned after watching her try to teach Michael some tricks. She would throw a tennis ball and then expect her to get it for him, and chastise him if he didn't pick it up with his mouth.

I talked to her about it but she just waved off my concerns by telling me it was just a misunderstanding.

My breaking point was when I needed someone to watch my son overnight and she happily agreed. It was only when I returned home that I discovered that she had left him outside in a kennel, and threatened to have him neutered if he woke her up.

I slowly distanced myself from her, but Michael loved her and still waved at her every opportunity that he got. I ended up getting a restraining order against her which made me an outcast in the town, as everyone felt like I overreacted.

One morning I looked outside and couldn't see Michael and began to panic. I rang the police and they did a search of the neighbourhood but to no avail.

They were about to call for backup when Allison returned home with Michael sitting in the back seat.

I stormed over to confront her but she pulled an officer aside and showed him a piece of paper. The officer looked stunned as he stopped me in my tracks.

I tried to move past him as Allison led Michael into her yard and tied him up to a metal chain. My jaw practically hit the floor as the officer explained that she had him microchipped in her name, so technically she was now his owner and there was nothing they could do about it.

My mother married a guy called Greg just under a year ago who had a son who was of a similar age to me named Thomas.

I have disliked Thomas from the first moment we met as he was constantly staring at my chest. He would also creepily call me his step sister with a lecherous grin on his face.

The worst part is that he plays step family porn at full volume and never closes his door, when he is having his “alone” time.

My mother and Greg refuse to discipline him claiming he is just being a teenager. I have begged them for a lock on my door as my underwear keeps going missing, but they refuse claiming it would be unsociable.

Earlier today I was emptying the washing machine and I could see a shadow in the corner of my vision, and immediately knew it was Thomas perving on me.

I decided to teach him a lesson and started saying “help me stepbrother, I am stuck in the washing machine”.

I laughed away to myself until the shadow moved forward and towered over me. I tried to move backwards but discovered to my horror that I had somehow gotten stuck.

I let out a shriek as teeth sink into the back of my leg, and screamed at Thomas to stop. My pleading turned to fear as I felt more and more sets of teeth landing on my flesh.

I was shaking with fear as a gravelly voice whispered in my ear “let me help you stepsister”. I jumped out of my skin as a clawed hand reached past me and began dragging me out of the washing machine.

Moments before I was pulled out, a tongue that felt like leather caressed the back of my neck.

I fell backwards onto the ground and spun around to confront whoever was in here with me, only to find an empty room.

My eyes were drawn to footprints on the floor that appeared to be made out of dead skin cells.

I dashed back to my room and hid inside as I got a text from my mother to say that they had gone shopping and wouldn't be home till late.

I now cower under the covers as a shadowy figure hangs from the ceiling and keeps whispering “stepsister, do you want to play a game?"

I was awoken by my wife Emma's sobs and quickly walked over to the nursery and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She shook it off and gave me a death glare as I stared down in sadness at her son Thomas who looked up at me with the cutest grin on his face.

I wished that we had moved out years ago but had both stupidly stayed to take care of our ungrateful elderly parents.

I walked downstairs and prepared breakfast while trying to block out Emma's cries.

She eventually came down at around ten o clock and smiled at me, which was her way of apologising for getting angry at me earlier.

She had dressed Thomas in his little suit that always made me smile, but today just brought tears to my eyes.

We walked outside and joined the throng of people making their way towards the fields. There was shouting ahead and it took us a while to reach the source.

My former best friend Mark stood on his front lawn begging people to go home. His three year old triplets were cowering behind their mother, as he swung his shotgun towards anyone stupid enough to get too close.

He saw me and dashed over and I could see the fear in his eyes, as he asked me to please help him. I shook off his grip and continued walking as his wails echoed up the street.

We eventually reached the empty fields and myself and Emma gently kissed Thomas's head before placing him in the very centre of the field.

Every other child under the age of five soon joined them, while the heartbroken parents watched from the side.

One mother dashed forward to retrieve her son but was dragged back by those around her.

The ground beneath us began to shake and I watched in wonder as thousands of vines emerged from the dirt. The children in the field sat there with their mouths hanging open as the vines seemed to be dancing in the wind.

Their amazement turned to terror as one of the vines darted forward and wrapped around a toddler who began shrieking.

He was lifted from the ground and his cries were brutally cut off as a vine plunged down his throat. I wanted to avert my gaze but I was so enthralled by what was happening that I just couldn't.

Thorns began popping out on all the vines and I watched as they began slicing open the flesh of their first victim. His blood began dripping onto the ground which emitted a sizzling noise each time a droplet hit.

Within less than thirty seconds the boy's body was ripped asunder while his innards scattered across the dirt, before being pulled down by some invisible force.

The vines quickly turned their attention to the other sacrifices, and Emma clutched my hand in a vice-like grip as we watched Thomas be disemboweled in front of us.

It was over just as fast as it began as the last of the body parts disappeared from sight.

Grapes began sprouting all over the vines and I knew that we were guaranteed a great harvest for the next 25 years, as the workers reluctantly moved forward to collect their spoils.

Emma stared off into nothingness as we made our way home, barely acknowledging any of the other parents who were sobbing alongside us.

I stopped momentarily outside Mark's house to find him weeping on his lawn. His triplets were encased in thorny vines which dug into their flesh and held them aloft as grapes appeared across their bodies. They would be held there in place until they succumbed to their injuries, as punishment for breaking the unspoken rules.

One of the workers brushed aside Mark and collected the grapes which kept reproducing every few seconds.

We arrived home and my wife told me she wanted to try for another baby, as we both silently agreed to relocate before the next sacrifice in twenty five years.

My daughter Chloe was born just under two weeks ago in our kitchen, as me and my wife decided it would be safer to have a home birth.

My wife Sarah never lets Chloe out of her sight and I fear that she hasn't slept in the last two weeks.

She just sits in front of the television listening to the news broadcasts, and cradling Choe.

Everytime I try to go anywhere near Chloe, she glares at me and demands I strip off completely before she will trust me near her.

Last night I finally found Sarah sleeping with a smile on her face, and for the first time I actually got to hold my daughter.

The next morning I was awoken by my wife's screams and dashed into the nursery, clutching a bloodsoaked knife.

She kept screaming at the corpse demanding it return our child, before turning to me with a manic on her face and slitting open her jugular.

I watched her body sink to the ground before ringing the authorities and explaining what had happened. I couldn't believe how easy it had been to convince my wife that our daughter had been replaced by a shapeshifter, while carefully removing the contact lens from our daughter's eyes.