They went back two weeks after the death flag had flown high above the body. Her mother's chair still sat there, unscathed, and the neatly scoured bones were stacked on top of it. Seeing it gave her the chills. It was supposed to be this way sometimes, or it had been in days of antiquity, when they had first moved out here, but in time out of mind what they had found was insect-riddled corpses, bodies chewed by coyotes, bodies shrunken by the heat. Some even said that it wasn't a fitting way to treat their dead, despite the ritual's inculcation in their most holy rules. "What is that?" Edgar whispered, edging closer to her. "It's a death-eater," she said quietly, almost whispering herself. After the days she spent happily lost in the first archives of the colony, the time teaching the kinder, and the--


Inspiration: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dandom/8512414543/in/photostream/
Story potential: High.
Notes: And what does the death-eater provide in return? And why did they leave? And why are they back? And and and.... Also, that is one gloriously creepy photo.

The ghost puppet show made her gurgle with laughter. Ghosts might not be the best playmates a girl could have, but for shadow bedtime stories, they were the best ever! She watched with wide eyes as a shadowy rider ran up a hill to a mansion with flickering windows--and she clapped her hands. Here! she said. "That's home!" The rider nodded his head, as if in acknowledgment, and knocked on the door. A faint, ghostly rattle of chains mimicked the sound of the door swinging open. Ghastly long arms reached out and pulled the rider into the castle. "And that's Great-Grandpa Edmund!" she exclaimed. Great-Grandpa Edmund was locked up in the basement now--

Inspiration: Ghost story puppet show benefits kids' charity: http://www.boingboing.net/2010/11/19/gothic-horror-puppet.html
Story Potential: Medium.
Notes: Moderately entertaining, nothing spectacular.

The monster lived under her bed, hiding in the dark shadows cast by the wrought-iron headboard, sliding between the bars while she slept and whispering sticky lullabies in her ears. She knew the monster lived under her bed because Great-Uncle Leroy had put it there when she was a little girl and having nightmares all the time. "You see," he told her, "I'm putting a monster under your bed. He's a very mean beast, but he will do what I ask him to, and that is to chase away all the other monsters or nightmares that might threaten you. All you have to do is prick your finger every Saturday, and let a single drop of blood fall to lie in the shadows. If you do this, he will be loyal to you as long as you live." He added, "And don't tell your mother. One day she forgot to feed her monster, and he left after nearly killing her. She's had--"

Inspiration: The title of "How to Write Tales of Horror..." and I may have been thinking a bit of Ray Bradbury's "The Gathering" once I started.
Story Potential: High.
Notes: Neat. Nifty. I've got no idea where it's going, but I like the idea of a little girl with a tame monster under her bed.