Winners of the Journal-World's Scary Story Contest from left are Alexandra Hoopes, a freshman at Bishop Seabury Academy, and Kyra Haas, sixth-grader at Veritas Christian School.

We asked area students to concoct a Halloween story of 700 words or less that started with this spooky introduction: “When I went to Room 101 for after-school detention, I didn’t recognize the teacher who was there waiting for me …” We received nearly 200 entries from participants that were divided into three divisions: elementary, junior high and high school. Read more of the winning entries.

Here is the Junior High Division winner:

When I went to Room 101 for after-school detention, I didn’t recognize the teacher who was there waiting for me. None of my classmates were in the room. Officially, detention didn’t start for another three minutes, but I didn’t want to get in any more trouble than I was already. The man behind the desk had jet-black hair, and his back was turned to me. He was reading intently at his desk, so I decided not to bother him. I sat down at a table near the back.

I hadn’t brought any books with me because I was told Mr. S. had a “special assignment” for me. It probably had something to do with cleaning the huge mess I had made in the lab room. I really didn’t mean to do it. What kind of teacher gives their students sulfuric acid to play with? I added the water to its concentrated form … and the rest is history. Leslie’s hand was burning and she was screaming like crazy. Suddenly, the whole table was ablaze. It was kind of funny – looking back on it.

I was getting bored so I decided to ask the teacher what I should be doing. I walked slowly to his desk.

“Excuse me sir,” I said, using my most polite detention voice, “I’m Peter, the freshman responsible for the … um … chemistry incident. Should I go get some homework?”

I don’t know why my voice sounded so shaky. I’m usually quite comfortable with teachers. This one sort of grunted and slowly turned around in his chair. I bit my lip to stifle a scream. The man’s face was burned all over. His skin was white and flaky, and his nose was stubby and looked like it was missing a piece or two. I tried not to stare, but his beady black eyes were eating through me. The man opened his mouth and with a rough, raspy voice he spoke to me.

“Yes, of course. Mr. Sweeney has something special planned for you. Let me just find his note.”

He pulled open the drawer of the desk with his bony, pale fingers and shuffled through it until he brought out a small post-it.

“Ah, yes.” He croaked and began reading aloud from the note, “Peter Burch is in for a surprise. He will not be released from the classroom until he has thoroughly learned his lesson.”

The burned man continued reading the note to himself. His dark eyes grew wide and he chuckled to himself ominously.

“Very well, Peter.” He sighed, “Let us begin.”

Suddenly the lights in the room flickered off. It was black except for a small light coming from the hallway. The man’s pale skin glowed oddly, and his thin lips curved upward into a creepy smile. He stood up. He must have been at least 6 1/2 feet tall. I cowered under him in fright. This was the strangest detention I’d ever been to, and that’s saying something.

The man turned his back to me, hunched over as if he were pouring something. When he turned around, I smelled it. The unmistakable stench of sulfuric acid! He grabbed my hand and held it tightly in his clenched fist. Then I realized his awful plan of revenge.

“Now you’ll get a taste of your own medicine,” he cackled. “Thirty years ago, another student was even more careless than you. My entire face was destroyed in the accident. I left the school, shunned by my classmates and my family. I was a monster. I still am.”

He smiled at me showing all of his horrible pointed teeth. Slowly, he tipped the beaker onto my index finger. The evil acid kissed my skin, burning it immediately. I screamed a silent scream. No sound would come out. The pain was indescribable. My head was spinning and the stream of acid kept coming. That monster of a man laughed his horrible laugh as I groaned and twitched with anguish. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally stopped. I collapsed on the hard linoleum floor.

When I awoke the man was gone. I could barely see the sun setting through the slits in the Venetian blinds. My hand was numb. I didn’t want to look at it. I stood up dizzily and stumbled to regain my balance. I ran out of the school as fast as I could. I didn’t know where I was headed, but I knew one thing: You must have a death wish if you want to take chemistry.

– Alexandra Hoopes is a freshman at Bishop Seabury Academy.