92 Degrees : Scary Stories – Short Horror Story

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92 degrees. The AC was broken and it was 92 fucking degrees out.

“Just turn the fan on,” my mother mentioned on the way out the door that morning, late to her first job.

My cheapskate father was behind on child support payments again, otherwise we might actually be able to afford a repairman. I tried to find my younger brother to see if I could make him go out and grab some ice cream for me but he was no where to be found. As I sat shirtless on the black faux-leather sofa, my sweat seemed to adhere my skin to the couch. I thought it best to open a window, but as I went to stand up, the couch wouldn’t release me. I sharply inhaled in fright. Summoning all of my strength, I surged forward. The plush furniture released me with a loud pop. False alarm.

Opening window didn’t help: hot air wafted in and stung my skin. I scanned my surroundings looking for a quick fix. That’s when I saw it: the bathroom door was open and the tub beckoned to me like an oasis to a desert nomad. I quickly strode to the bathroom. The cracked baby blue tile floor with stained grout was still lightly doused from the last bath taken. I peered into the white plastic tub. A pale pinkish liquid lay in the area directly surrounding the drain. I turned on the black gunk-covered faucet to wash it down. My mom said the gunk was most likely due to mold or minerals but was harmless, so I didn’t care when some fell off into the ice-cold bath water. I just hopped straight in.

10 minutes later, I stepped out of the tub, feeling refreshed. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed my shoulder in the mirror. A piece of the gunk was stuck to my shoulder. I grabbed a towel to wipe it off but it was stuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could, but the abrasion only caused it to spread. As I scrutinized my shoulder, I felt a searing pain on the mark. The black sludge moved and started to burrow into my skin. Underneath my pale skin, I saw it wrap around my veins and diffuse into my bloodstream.


The sound was louder than normal.

Drip drop

A pinkish liquid dripped off of my skin onto the floor.

Drip drop drip

I faced the mirror. A grotesque figure peered back at me. My ear was sliding down my face. My lips drooped like a stroke victim. I struggled not to slip on myself as I stepped into the tub to contain my own dripping flesh. I melted to the tub floor as my bones liquified. I struggled to scream out but my mouth simply bubbled, choking on itself. With my last glimpse I looked towards the drain, where I would soon become another small pool of pale pinkish liquid.

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