To Feel Alive
Kendra shivered, trembling with trepidation as she slowly reached out to grasp the handle. She tried to peer into the small, square window but inside was dark, complete blackness. Confused, she glanced around the long, empty alley looking for another door. She was sure she was at the right place. Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled while simultaneously turning the handle and gently, slowly, silently pushing open the thick, heavy door.
Straining her eyes, she subtly noticed large stains on the door, but her thoughts quickly were averted from the stains when a lamp suddenly turned on beside her. A shriek escaped her lips, and Kendra stumbled backwards almost sending herself sprawling onto the narrow alley’s cold, dirty ground.
Shaken, she timidly called out.
“Hello?”
A deep, gruff voice answered loudly sending chills up her arms.
“Enter and be seated.”
Complying, Kendra found herself seated at a long, very long, table. Its vastness overwhelmed her, and she began to feel lightheaded. Perhaps it was from the fear that was starting to swell inside her, or maybe, just maybe, it was the stench that nearly took her breath away at first. She could not place where it came from, but Kendra did note with displeasure that it smelled a bit like blood. Almost… like stale blood if such a thing existed.
Across from her on the other end of the enormous twelve-foot table sat a man clothed in black. Kendra wondered why a man would wear a suit just for an interview, but she did not question him. She studied his appearance, sensing him doing the same with her. His eyes, shining from the light of the lamp, illuminated a bright green. His pallid skin was quite a contrast to his mouth which, to Kendra, appeared to be very dark. She leaned forward a bit to see him better but had no success. Suddenly, feeling nervous and obligated to speak she said, “Thank you for welcoming me sir. I trust you received my letter.”
“Letter? I was given no such thing.”
“You must have gotten it with all my resumes and information papers. I sent them over a week ago.”
“No, I requested no letters. Why would I need your information when I’ve not a clue who you are?”
“Sir? I’m Kendra Wusser. I applied for the teaching position at the school, and you needed my information before the interview.”
“I do believe you have mistaken me for another man.”
“Are you not Mr. Idrin Kurblud?”
“Why yes, but you’ve mistaken me for the high school principal who lives just on the other side of town.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kendra said quickly. “Sir, I must go. I fear I am already late for my interview.”
Kendra stood, and started briskly walking to the door. Within seconds he’d crossed the room silently and now had a firm grip on her arm.
“You can’t leave now. Stay, you must. Are you hungry? I know it’s been a long day, and I’m in the mood for something to drink. What will you have?”
“Oh, really, please, I must leave!” Kendra exclaimed, trying for the door with no luck. She looked back at the man, now able to see that his lips were a bright yet dark, crimson hue. She trembled as he took hold of her long, red hair and laughed.
“Like fire,” he said. “I like playing with fire… like blood… I like the taste of blood.”
At that moment he leaned in, pulling her close. She felt a sharp sting in her neck, and she screamed as she felt dizzy from the pain. Slumping to the floor, her head propped against the door frame, her screams began to quiet. Her breathing began to slow, and the last thing Kendra saw were the stains on the door that she initially ignored. They were bloodstains!
The first thing Kendra felt when she awoke was the pounding pressure in her head. Her eyes felt heavy, and her body felt different. She opened her eyes to see darkness all around her. Why could she see people sleeping around her? Why was she seeing in the dark? Taking a second look around her, Kendra noticed that not one of the bodies were breathing. Crawling closer to them, she realized none of the people were alive. They were all girls, she observed. All about 5’7” with the same long, red hair. Kendra startled, grabbing at her own hair and comparing. With a sinking feeling, she realized she was another victim of this man. She was supposed to be dead.
Kendra looked at each girl for any signs of how they were killed. Rolling them onto their backs, she could clearly see two almost triangular-looking shapes on the left side of each neck. Slightly gagging, Kendra lifted her own hand to her neck and pulled it slowly away. It was covered with slightly crusted wet blood.
Then Kendra began to thirst. She felt a small longing sensation in her stomach slowly begin to spread craving throughout her body. She began to shake violently and cried out.
Suddenly footsteps sounded outside the door, and Kendra saw the door swing open. The man standing there wore a look of complete shock, as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing.
“What?… How?….You’re… alive….”
She looked around her, once again taking notice of the dead bodies she was surrounded by.
“You… tried to kill me?”
“I…”
Kendra stalked up to the rather large man. Placing a palm on his chest, she shoved him backward sending him practically sailing back across the room. She stared down at her hand, amazed thinking where did I get that kind of strength?
Kendra quickly averted her thoughts from her newfound strength as another pang of thirst engulfed her stomach. She dropped to her knees calling out to the stranger, and he came and knelt beside her hesitantly.
“Thirsty,” she gasped. “I’m… so thirsty…”
The stranger looked pained momentarily but left the room coming back with a glass of water. Kendra gulped the water down in seconds and began shaking her head.
“No… so thirsty… I need…”
The man groaned and motioned for her to come to one of the bodies he was next to. She complied, and they both knelt by the body as he showed her how he drank their blood.
“There is not enough blood in any of them for them to still be alive, but there is a little bit that you can finish off in each body, and hopefully then your thirst will be quenched.”
After a slight hesitation, Kendra took her nail and reopened the incisions in the girl’s neck and leaned forward pressing her mouth to the wound.
As Kendra drank the blood, she began to feel stronger, more powerful. The sweetness over-powered her, and she found herself not able to stop drinking until not another drop would come out. Licking her now-stained, florid lips. She moved quickly to the next girl in the juxtaposed order they were in.
When she came to the last girl, she paused. Something felt wrong. She noticed this girl was warm rather than cold like the others. Kendra took hold of one of the girl’s wrists as she drank her blood quickly. She found that she had difficultly swallowing the blood and was very irritated by it. When she could finally get no more, Kendra sat back. Exhausted, yet wide awake, Kendra realized she hadn’t let go of the girl’s wrist. She unbound her finger that was hooked in the bracelet. The material felt strangely familiar. Kendra lifted the girl’s wrist to get a better view and twisted it around to the front. Gasping, Kendra glanced down at her own wrist. She began to shake violently as the realization came. She stared into the face of the familiar girl and repeatedly whispered, “I’m so sorry.” There laid her best friend. Her fiery red hair, just like Kendra’s, was pulled back in a messy bun; her once bright blue eyes now dully staring ahead with no life. An almost permanent blush faded on her cheeks. The identical bracelet that each girl wore was tied to her right hand, a symbol of their lifelong friendship, now broken.
Kendra had just finished off her best friend. She drank her blood and twenty other girls’ blood as well and she felt… alive!
I Witnessed:
I was walking home from my friends house,late,very very late.As I was walking I noticed a garden in a backyard,it was a beautiful garden,roses of all colors were in it.As I stared I also noticed a little girl.She was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in all of my exisistance.She had long curly blond hair that reached to her waist.Her bangs were braided in to a little crown that reached around her head and a baby pink bow holding the “crown” together.She was lightly tanned.She had these dancing blue eyes that twinkled like stars in the sky.She had light pink lips that were moving as she sang a little song to herself.She was wearing a knee-length dress that was as white as snow,white,the color of innocence.she wore white sandals.Her beauty was so intense I could only sit there and stare like and idiot.She would make Aphrodite look like a zombie.My gaze broke when I heard angry shouting.I looked at the girl’s father,i assumed it was her dad.He was drunk on anger,high on envy.He was the exact opposite of this sweet,young,innocent girl.He was a fat,tall,man with a beard and chin-length hair,he was hideous,he wore greasy jeans and dirty white t-shirt.He was holding up a long knife.NO!He was planning on killing her!I was frozen,I was of no help,I couldn’t move a muscle.His expression was calm,darkly calm.”Natures first green is gold.Her hardest hue to hold.her early leaf’s a flower,but only so an hour.Then leaf subsides to leaf,so Eden sank to greif.So dawn goes down to day,Nothing gold can stay.I remembered that poem by Robert Frost,Nothing Gold Can Stay.I realizes why he had chosen that poem to speak she is golden,for she can not stay…alive.The girl shooke in fear.The father took her by her hair and slit his own daughter’s throat.As I watched the little girl’s white dress of innocence soak crimson of hatrid and envy.The world was suddenly spinning and everything turned black,within seconds the ground came closer and I was out in the nightmare of unconsiousness.
I woke up in my bed.I sat up in alarm.Relief wavered over me,”It was all just a dream” I sighed happily.I flipped on the T.V. for entertainment.the news was on,I was fixing to turn it to something else when I saw the girl’s father on T.V.I shuttered with pure horror.The father’s hair was white,with insanity.He had blood-soaked chlothes and the cops were dragging him out.In the background you could see a coroner,they were putting a small corpse in a bag.The father suddenly started singing “I killed my daughter over there!I have blood in my white hair!I destroy all witnesses so please beware!” he sang a madman’s lullaby.He laughed evily and said “I will be back for the witness!”I had a sharp pain in my stomach.I was next on that sychopath’s hit-list all because I witnessed.
Here is one I thought of while listning to the radio.
Musical Murder:
I was sitting in my car wandering,ok well honestly worrying to myself.I am about to burst out in to tears,I am more horrified in this moment then I have ever been in my entire life!You see,it all started only a week ago,but now it seems lifetimes ago:
I sat in my room texting my friend Hayley.Like every other 17 year old girls all we talked about was gossip,who is dating who,who dumped who,and who is going to that band’s concert,etc.Suddenly my phone rang.I awnsered it ont he first ring.”Hello?” I said.”Hey Izzy,its me,Hayley” seriously Hayley I thought to myself.”Are you really to lazy to text?” I asked jokingly.”Yeah,hey you dont want me getting carpal tunnel do you?” she asked teasingly.”No,but are you going to that concert with me this Saturday?” I asked hopefully.I loved this band,it is only the best band in the world.”I cant go to the’Muse’ concert,I am grounded from sneaking out to that nightclub.Crap!My parents are home I have to go,bye!” “Bye” I said bitterly in to the dead phone.Great.I am going to have to the ‘Muse’ concert alone.I decided since today was
Wednseday and I only had 3 more days of waiting till the concert I decided to get pumped up by listing to some of their songs.I grabbed my Ipod and scrolled down till I found “Our Time is Running Out” I listemed to the lyrics,I knew them by heart.”Bury her,I won’t let you bury her”I paused the song.Her?Its supposed to be I wont let you bury “it” not “her.” I listned to that part again it said “it” I shrug off paranioa and continued listening to the song. “I won’t let you smother it,I won’t let you murder her.” Again?It is supposed to be “it” I turned off my Ipod paronia sneaking up on me.
Saturday:
I was in my car driving up to the stadium where “Muse” was preforming.I pre-bought my tickets online so all I had to do was walk-in.Thousands of screaming fans held up signs such as “We <3 u Mathew!!" and the parallel signs with the word "Muse" inside of it (thats there logo)Muse was performing "Supermassive Black Hole" first,I noticed that Mathew,the lead singer,was staring at me the entire concert.I also noticed that he did the same things with "Our Time Is Running Out" like on my Ipod,saying "her" and not "it" and performing "Uprising" when he sung "Red tape to keep the truth confined" he stared at me with an evil grin.I must be imaging things,to think the lead singer of "Muse" would actually want to kill me,he doesnt even know me!I was walking to my car,when all of a sudden,someone tapped on my shoulder.I spun around,terrified."Izzy,hello!" said Mathew?What the heck was the lead singer of "Muse" doing talking to me?"Hi,how did you know my name?"He took my arm and started to drag me behind the stadium "Where are we going I asked" terrified."Somewhere to talk in private" he said darkly.Once we were behind the stadium where nobody could see or hear us he smiled evily."I know you figured me out" he accused.Great.My suspicions were confirmed.He wanted to kill me.He took out red tape from his bag and with one quick motion taped my mouth shut."Red tape to keep the truth confined" he sung the words from the song "Uprising." He had his guitar in his hand and with one movement he shoved it through my chest.Blood poured out of it rapidly."Im going to murder her,Im going to bury her" he sung the changed lyrics from "Our Time Is Running Out" and then another line from that song "Our time is running out!" Our time is running out?I thought to myself before I saw that he stabbed himself with a knife.This guy is a sychopath!I thought horrified."I have been watching you for a while now,we are just like 'Romeo and Juliet' a tragic love story."Love story?I didnt even know this guy.I started blacking out I heard him reciting Romeo's words from the tomb."Death that hath sucked thy honey of thy breath,hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.Thou art not conquered beauty's ensign is yet crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks.Death's pale flag does not advance there."He crawled towards me."Eyes look your last,arms take your last embrace,and lips,oh you the doors of breath,seal with a rightous kiss!"He kissed me,well the tape,but you get what im trying to say."Thus,with a kiss,I die!"He fell dead and as did I.In the afterlife I found out that my parents knew of his stalking,so they got a restraing order put on him.This is were he went literally insane and thought of himself as in love with me.this is where he thought of "Romeo and Juliet" the "capulets" (my parents) didnt want a montague (him) keeping their "love" apart this is when he got obsessive and watched me sleep at night and followed me everywhere.This is where he had his idea of a "musical murder."
*the lead singer of "Muse" is not insane or a killer,only an insanely good singer,I hope you enjoyed my story*
Hope you like it!
The Photograph-
I cannot remember much but, it still brings me chills on my spine. Well,I was sixteen when Nicole , Max, Alexander,
Rhea, Rachel, Penny, Maddie and Jake(that’s me) went camping. Like every time, we roasted marshmallows on a large bonfire.Rhea, who is very fond of photography, took a picture of all of us. The next day I called up Rhea and asked her to send me the photograph that we took at the campsite via email. Which was my biggest mistake. After a few minutes, I recieved an email of the picture,saw Nicole, Max, Alexander, Rhea, Rachel, Penny, Maddie, Steve and me. Steve? How was that possible? Steve was’nt there at the Camping site and moreover, he isn’t alive. He died at the last camp we went.But, his death remains a mystery. No one know how did he die. I called up Rhea and told her about the picture. But only if Rhea was living anymore.Yes, you guessed it right. Rhea was dead. All my friends and I were astonished about the photo and felt doleful on the loss of Rhea. Later that same night I got a call from Max and he said that Rachel, Penny and Maddy were also dead. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I decided that I would go back at the camping site and find Steve. I traveled along with Max, Alexander and Nicole. As we reached we split up into 2 groups. Nicole and Alexander and Max and me. After an hour or so Max and me found nothing. But, Alexander and Nicole were an hour late. We thought to go and find them.We finally found them
after sometime. But dead. Now there were only two of us left Max and me. We went back home that night and I thought that I should take a glimpse at the photo once again. To my surprise I saw noticed that Steve disappered from the photograph. The next day, I read an article about the death of Max. I cried and cried. I really thought hard that why did steve’s spirit kill so many people …………Then I realized, it all made sense. I was’nt there last camp when Steve was killed. That is why i am alive. Nicole , Max, Alexander, Rhea, Rachel, Penny, Maddie were killed because they held the secret of
the death of Steve, or they might have killed Steve which I dont really think they might have done.After all, I still miss my friends. Then I thought that I should take a last look at the photograph, and as I expected …………………the picture was blank.And that was the end of it.
——————–the end——————————-
The Angel
One day a little girl named Asia was playing with her doll. The doll was made to look like a angel.The doll was in a horrible condition but Asia insisted on playing with it. Asia’s mother walked into the room and came up with a plan. She would secretly get rid of the doll somehow and replace it with another doll. She did not want her daughter playing with such a filthy doll.That night the mother crept into the daughter’s room and took the doll from the Daughter’s grip. She replaced it with a beautiful porcelain doll. the other doll had beautiful curly blonde hair, stunning green eyes and white skin. The mother doubted giving such a breakable doll to the child.She decided to give the doll to the child. She took the filthy doll and took it outside to the forest. The family was very lucky to be so wealthy. She took the doll to the tallest tree she could find then threw it until it stayed in the tree. The mother ran back to the house. Later that day the mother was making brunch. The daughter had just woken up. “Mama why is there a broken doll in my closet?” The Mom walked into the room and discovered the old doll propped up on the bed. Asia, where did you find this doll!” The little girl was confused. ” It was facing me when I woke up. The mother cleaned up the broken doll and took the old doll to the pool. She hid the doll in the filter. Hoping that it wouldn’t be found again. When the mother walked back into the room she was shocked. On the wall was written ” Why are you trying to get rid of me!” The mom was scared so she ran back to the pool. she checked the filter and was shocked. The doll was gone. Just then she heard her daughter scream. The mother was terrified of what she would find. She ran as fast as she could back to the house. The doll was Throwing knives at the small little girls body, but it was obvious she was already dead. The mom ran to her room. She stayed there for one hour then worked up the courage to step outside of the room.The doll was eating the dead girls body. After that the Mom went crazy and killed herself, over struck with sadness. Some say if you go to that house you can see the doll smiling and running around the house.
SOY CHUPACABRA, TRES
SOY CHUPACABRA, DOS
SOY CHUPACABRA, UN
“What are we going to do about this, Katt? We can’t keep putting up with this, it’s got to stop,” He looked at his wife with a dangerous glint in his eye.
“No,” Katt recognized the look, “It’s just going to make whoever it is mad. Please don’t do it, Daniel.”
“It’s got to stop.”
Them? Oh they were my parents. I told them to pay attention to the warnings. The morning after they had that conversation, they were dead, my father holding his shotgun and mother in the kitchen. I ran when I had the chance. All across Texas its been happening. But they didn’t listen to me. Of course they didn’t. Our neighbors didn’t listen either, nor my Uncle Will. All of them are gone now. How, you say? I don’t think you’ll understand, but I will try.
He’s named himself Chupacabra. You’ll understand, the more I tell you, why he’s named so. The tragedies have happened across the Mexican border, not only Texas. I guess you kind of figured that out yourself, the name and all. You hear the name whispered around the campfire at night, but not his. The one he named himself after. The Chupacabra.
The beast drinks the blood of helpless farm animals. The man drinks the blood of helpless farm hands and takes their livers. It’s disgusting, I know, but someone has to know. That isn’t already dead of course.
This man, well he’s more beast than human. Anyhow, this… beast will give you three warnings. First he’ll say “Soy Chupacabra. Dispone de tres Dias.” Only a hoarse whisper in the wind, then he vanishes. He then gets one of your animals, kills it, and writes it on your house in the animals’ blood. And it keeps on like that, him counting down and you not paying attention to the warnings. Unless you’re smart, like I was. I knew what was happening. But there’s no way to stop it.
Before he kills you, he looks into your eyes, smiles his inhuman smile, and says, “Soy Chupacabra.” Then slits your throat with his nails, long hooked things sharpened to a point, and drains you of blood. He digs into your side, rips your liver out, and eats it, relishing every last bite. How do I know all of this? While he did it to mother, I was in the cupboard, being somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. Eating cookies I wasn’t supposed to eat. Seeing something a seven year old should have never see.
As I relate to you this story, fate has finally caught up to the runaway. A scratching sound on the window, and he’s there. His dead eyes gaze at me through his disgusting black hair, wondering, I suppose, how victory will taste after all these years. I bleakly stare back, daring him. He understands and smiles in return, his rotting teeth black stubs in his bloody gums.
“SOY CHUPACABRA”
Here’s another story I wrote. I think it’s pretty good:
Tennis Championship
Vance Lanchosse, a young tennis player, was competing in a national tennis championship. He had worked incredibly hard to get where he was and desperately wanted to win it all. But there was only one obstacle that damaged Vance’s otherwise perfect goal: Chester Triss. Chester and Vance had first encountered each other in the regional competition and competed against each other. Chester won, but Vance still had enough wins to advance to the nationals. Vance knew he could never beat Chester if they made the final two, and couldn’t stand the fact that he might lose when he was so close to victory. The night before the competition began, Vance sat in his hotel room, stressing over the events of the next day. As he thought more about Chester, Vance grew more angry. Then, Vance got an idea-a horrible idea. Early the following morning, Chester had just woken up when his cell phone rang. When he answered it, he was surprised to find it was Vance. “Chester, meet me by the pool around back. We need to talk.” Vance said hastily. “Sure, Vance. Give me a few minutes.” Chester said. Thinking Vance had had a change of heart and wanted to make ammends, Chester quickly showered, got dressed, and went to meet Vance. When Chester showed up at the hotel pool, Vance was nowhere to be seen. “Vance! Are you here?” Chester shouted. After a few minutes, Chester started to leave. But as he turned around, he saw Vance standing behind him, grinning evilly. “Vance-” Chester began to say, but then, Vance pushed Chester into the pool. Then, he held Chester under the way by his shoulders. Chester tried to escape, but couldn’t break Vance’s grip. Vance continued to hold Chester underwater until he finally stopped struggling. As Vance looked at Chester’s body floating in the pool, Vance muttered, “Now nothing stands in my way.” Then, with that, Vance dropped a folded-up piece of paper onto the ground and left. When another competitor discovered Chester’s body, she called the police and they investigated. They discovered the paper Vance had left behind and saw it was a suicide note that appeared to be written by Chester. The police investigated, but they found no evidence of homocide and deemed Chester’s death a suicide.
(Hope you like it!)
She Said She Was A Angel
Hi, my name is Justin. And I am going to die any minute now. I’m hiding in a tree. And I have enough paper with me to warn you. This is my story:
A week ago we moved to a house that had just been built. It was the nicest house I’ve ever seen. I picked a room and started to unpack. I happened to look to my right and i noticed a mirror on the wall. It was a small, round mirror with a black frame. It looked as new as the house.
I approached it and started to fix my hair when I noticed a 13 year old girl. I looked behind my shoulder horrified. Nothing there. The image of her didn’t leave my mind though. Medium length red hair, super pale skin, even though I was scared by the event I found the girl attractive.
Tonight at midnight I looked in the mirror again. No girl. I turned around and screamed. The girl was lying on my bed. She was wearing a white dress that to my surprise was darker than her skin. Stepping back I asked,”Who are you?”
Looking up she replyed,” An angel.” I didn’t know what to say. After a moment she continued,”I was sent here.” I asked why. She began to laugh. She wouldn’t stop. Talking over her I asked her name. That made her stop.
Her once blue eyes became black, her voice got low, her hair turned into fire, her teeth became sharp. I screamed as she began to hover over my bed. She lifted her hands up. As she made a fist my bed started to be crushed by an invisible force. “My name? YOU WANT MY NAME?” I ran out of my room and sprinted outside and here i am.
She found me! She’s talking. She said she’s here to take me away. She’s climbing up the tree. Mom, dad, I love y
And that’s the story. Who was she? What was she? Here’s a hint: she thought his soul tasted delious.
YOU
The next time you go to the library, be sure to keep an eye out for a certain book. There is no other book like it, and no copies. It can turn up anywhere in the library. It can be on any shelf, any table, in the hands of any person. The cover is made of leather, and the book is titled “YOU”.
Once you find the book, don’t open it. Go to the librarian to check the book out. The librarian should give you a strange look and utter “Oh… that one…”.
Bring the book home. You may be tempted to open the book, but make sure you don’t. At midnight, step into your closet, book in hand, and shut the door. Make sure that all you see is darkness, and that the only noise you can hear is your heartbeat.
Open the book. In the book contains all of the knowledge of your past, present, and future. As you flip the pages of the book, moving from past events to present events, stop once you reach the end of the present events. You will know when to stop when you see yourself in the closet, reading the book.
Before you move on to read future events, think about whether you REALLY want to know about the future.
If you decide not to read further, close the book, leave it on the floor in your closet, and leave. Be sure to keep the book INSIDE the closet. You will notice in the morning that the book is gone.
If you decide to read your future events, begin to turn the pages of the book. It is extremely important that you DON’T scream when you read about your death. Don’t take your eyes off the book when you see yourself being dragged into the depths of darkness that was once your closet. Don’t blink as you see yourself being torn apart by a hungry beast, the bloody book laying on the floor next to your severed limbs. Don’t be surprised when you feel the beast’s hand on your shoulder…
I Got this form another friend hope you like it
:)
Come A Little Closer…
There once was a couple who desperately wanted a child.The wife awaited her husband with great news of a baby one fine day in the spring. The husband pampered the unborn child with a full heart until she was born. They named the child Abigail. There was no surprise that she was a daddy’s girl and she was all they ever wanted. On Abigail’s 5th birthday in her adorable English accent she told her parents”Mommy and Daddy I do not want a party I want to spend the day with you at the park”. the couple would do anything for Abigail so off they went to the park.When the day was done Abigail got a purple dress, a red bow, a red jeweled purple diary, and a purple amulet. For the following week Abigail would spread her arms, close her eyes, and repeat the phrase: my my my little friend we’ll be friends until the end you are light as lead soon you will be dead. The couple took Abigail for a walk to clear her mind. Abigail still controlled her heart and told the couple don’t go any further there is great danger ahead but it was no use. With red glaring eyes the couple fell into the witch’s pit of death. “Mommy, daddy” screamed the weeping girl.The couple told her that it was too late and to run home. She knew in her heart to trust them. So Abigail went to the house and she raised herself in secrecy for 22 years for she knew the witch was looking for her. She married in the same house and still managed to keep it secret and had 2 children whose names were Haylee and Hillary.The husband eventually died when the children were 5. Abigail was falling under the witch’s spell and began to die. She gave her children the things she had gotten when she was 5 before dying .Haylee and Hillary were sent to the orphanage along with the witch. Abigail’s amulet made her once again 5 from pure heart but her daughters were poisoned by the witch and now dead. Left in grief and heartbreak again Abigail escaped the orphanage and set off to find the witch and kill her.But the witch had already found her.Dying the same as her parents she was lost in the woods and now unable to fight when the witch whispered” Come a little closer…
The witch is know as the Lost One because she haunted Abigail for her natural beauty inside and out for Abigail’s pure heart she had wanted someone like Abigail to love her and when she found no one she was very upset then and killed her family after finding Abigail she felt sad and gave Abigail one wish and with her pure heart she wished she was 5 again and that the witch could have her life back and live next door to Abigail and that’s what happened but the witch learned and finally had a family so on a girl’s 5th birthday who is said to have a pure heart will have to do the same as Abigail and will have a chance to start over if they make the right wish they will live a happy life as they wished and if not the witch of the Lost One will ask them to come a little closer to live in a permanant destruction of life without pureness or the right to be a true girl as all should be as Abigail the fair queen of girls with a pure and true heart.
My tragic tale (not true :D)
I save my love elise from my evil tyrant of a brother. We where separated for a while because I had left the castle however I soon found her in Bowerstone Markets where I saved her yet again, she broke up with the man she was engaged to and I proposed. We then got married in a beautiful ceremony at Brightwall where we would buy a house and live together. Everything was going perfectly except the people next door kept arguing and most people hated me because I was a millionaire and was making everybody pay high rent and had to deal with high shop prices. We where very much in love with each other however and we where faithful (Or so I thought). We decided to get physical for the first time unprotected. That was when the problems started. Not only did I get an STD but also I had a black child even though neither of us where black. I was devastated and went next door where I learnt that the neighbours wanted a divorce. In my anger I wanted revenge so I married the woman next door and killed her husband. This just made things worse, we also had a house in Brightwall and soon both my wives where fighting with each other and wanted a divorce. I decided Elise had hurt me to badly. I killed her and our “child” was sent to the orphanage, I then bought a nice house in Millfields for my second and now only wife. I felt sorry for the child who had been sent to the orphanage so I adopted him (It wasn’t his fault after all). Finally after all this lying, cheating, murder, scandal and heartbreak I thought it was all over and we could finally be happy. I became best friends with our neighbours and finally felt as if I belonged. That was when tragedy struck one final time, mercenaries came and killed not only my best friend but also my wife. Now I am all alone and have realised that if I had not been so selfish and stolen Elise from that other man I would have been contempt with my life and could have found somebody else to settle down with and avoided the grief and heartache that has now passed.
“15 minutes” – Standing in front of the underground passages and heavy rain dripping loudly in the pavement and ready to take a part in a city’s ghost bus tour with about 10 to 15 people and excitement filled the atmosphere. I arrived in Edinburgh in the afternoon and went to different places zoo, museum, and took many pictures and at 4:00 pm I arrived at the Edinburgh castle and took a lot of pictures at exactly 7:00 pm I returned in to the bus and waited for the tour guide to arrive, after a few minutes he showed up and told us that we are going to the famous underground house that was rumored to be haunted, as we got of the bus my cellphone rang. It was mom she said that she’s worried because I’m not calling her. I said “Mom everything’s fine i’m safe and please call again later because it’s raining hard here and I need to go. Since birth up to now when I left home to study I was never close to another person other than my Mom so I will do everything for her. Then I said ” Mom I’m 18 now so you don’t have to concern yourself. Then she said “Okay son be safe and take care of yourself. Then I said that I’ll be safe even if you don’t remind me that. Then the phone went blurred and hanged “Damn signal” i said to myself. The I notice that I was the only one left in the entrance.“They must have started the tour without me while I was distracted on the phone,” I laughed talking out loud this time. “I’m sure I can catch up to them though,” I said entering the gates in front of me that lead to a flight of descending stone steps.
As I made my way down the 30 or so steps, I saw what looked like a distant gathering of people amongst dim lights and dust.
“That must be them,” I said speeding up my pace into a fast walk.
About 50 yards of fast walking down a narrow stone corridor, I was stopped dead in my tracks.
Stepping out from a room to my left stood the shadow of a 5ft woman.
To say I was terrified would be an understatement. My heart jumping into the back of my chest, the breath rushing from my lungs, I looked up at the figure in absolute panic..
“Calm down,” came a voice breaking what seemed like an eternity of terror and silence.
“Wh wh wh wh wh wh… who are you?” I asked stammering in shock.
“The names Alyssa Williams,” she replied stepping from the darkness to reveal herself.
A woman of about 40 years with long brown shaggy hair, piercing green eyes and a pale skin complexion, Alyssa stood before me blocking the way forward.
“You’ve been separated from the rest of them, haven’t you?” She asked.
“I just got held up outside on the phone and lost my concentration, so you could say that,” I replied with a laugh of realising she wasn’t some terrifying monster or ghostly apparition as first thought.
“It happens all too often. You’ve missed the first 15 minutes of the tour,” she said, “but it’s your lucky day.”
“My lucky day?” I asked bemused.
“Yeah, your lucky day,” she said again.
“How though?” I replied even more confused.
“The rain that flooded the graveyard above was just too much for the foundations of these old corridors to hold, and now all but you lay dead beneath the collapse of the ceiling. Give my kind regards to your mom for being of great help,” she said walking off back into the dark room she came from.
(I asked a friend in order to write this story so I can’t take all the credit sorry if u think it is lame pls. bear it with me)
I could imagine this that Cry is reading this.. :
Nails.
_______
When I was a child, I used to play with my friends. We were a happy bunch. We told different scary horrid stories.. The only story I didn’t for get was… The Lady That Was Scratching the door. It was a story about a woman who has long-ass nails. She was left by her husband… She was going crazy… She was locked in a mental asylum, she always screeched the doors with her nails, begging for someone to open the door. It gave me the creeps, It gave my chills to the spine.. it made me shiver in fear.. I hated being alone in my house.. but, I didn’t like having babysitters sit me.. One day, my parents went to a party. They called a babysitter, a babysitter with long nails…
When I was in my room.. All alone.. browsing some shit. The babysitter knocked if I was ok. I nodded with a fake smile on my face. I remembered the story.. her nails sent me shivers down my spine. Then, I heard screeching on my door. It was loud, painful in the ears.. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard…
Screech… SCREEECCHHH… SCREEEEECHHHHH….
It didn’t stop, when I opened the door. There was no one there… just… cold wind.. I thought it was just my babysitter pranking me. I sighed in relief.. I walked downstairs to see if the babysitter was still there, she was sitting on the couch and watching tv. i looked behind my door if there were scratches… there were none. I proceeded at what I was doing.. It was already 11 pm.. Parents haven’t arrived yet.. I was waiting for them.. The door downstairs opened.. Thinking that was my parents… The screeching sound continued.. it got more louder than before…. It was fast..
SCREEEECH SCREEEEECH SCREEEEEEEECH SCREEEEEEEECH
And then there was hitting on the door.. like someone begging for help..
DUN DUN DUN DUN.. SCREECH SCREECH SCREECH DUN…
I remained silent.. Afraid to move a muscle.. The hitting and screeching stopped.. I opened the door, trying to get my guts together.. Then I saw a lady… all in white.. grabbing my Babysitter’s golden hair… The babysitter was dead.. cold.. skin… her pupils.. her eyes open.. with only white.. the Lady was looking at me with a smile.. the lady had long nails.. So I closed the door quickly again..
Hoping that she would be gone.. I opened the door.. She disappeared out of nowhere… I was afraid to look back at my room… I looked from left to right.. She wasn’t there.. I was afraid to go downstairs.. I closed the door and went in my room..I remained silent.. my jaw shaking like an asshole… my body shivering.. my spine tingling..
I covered my ears… I heard my mom and dad opening the door, I ran like a pussy.. I hugged my dad with tears rolling down my face.. I looked up to his face. The lady’s face appeared… All along.. I was hugging the lady… I screamed….
…. I didn’t move a muscle.. I threw myself away from her.. she got closer and closer.. closer and closer.. closer.. closer.. closer.. And…
PAM….
Her ugly face dripping with blood appeared on my face… I screamed at it.. She strangled me with her hand… she held me up the air.. I tried to take it off.. I was struggling to breathe… Her nails almost puncturing my skin..
I woke up on bed.. sweating like a dog.. It turned out to be just a dream all along.. BUT NO…. She appeared at my face.. She was holding my dead body.. I was dead.. dead. DEAD.. DEAAAADD… DEAD ALL ALONG..
.. That’s all.. -hat’s off to you- -Bow- c:
(made by Anominity… I hate nails.. Eeeekkk..)
The Boy In The Garden by iwasdeadbeforeidied13.
My name is Riley Mitchel. This is a true story that hapened to me. All my freinds have had some sort of experience with the paranormal and this is mine.
I was staying at an old inn for the easter holidays. it had just got new owners and it seemed very pleasnt and relaxing. I booked into room 3 which had a lovely view of the garden out back. I got up early the next morning and looked out of the window. Standing there was a boy about 15. He had dark hair and eyes. He wore a red t-shirt and blue jeans but nothing on his feet. He smiled and waved at me and I smiled and waved back. Then he ran inside. When I went downstairs I expected to see him but he wasn’t there. I asked the landlord whether he’d seen the boy who was staying there. The land lord looked at me and said. “There are no boys staying here. Just you and the elderly couple in room 5.” I was confused but didn’t think much of it. It could have just been a dream.
The next day I woke up early again and once again I looked out of the window. Standing there was the boy smiling and waving wearing the exact same clothes. This time I didn’t wave back. He looked a little hurt and ran back inside. I went downstairs and told the man at the bar what I’d just saw. He gave me an odd look. “Well noones come in.” He informed me. “Actully no ones gone out either.” I was getting a little freaked out. Who was this boy? Where did he come from? That night I couldn’t sleep thinking about him. When it was round about midnight I heard a strangled voice calling “Mum help me. Mum mum.” Terified I refused to move from under the covers.
The next morning I didn’t look out of the window for fear of seeing the boy. It was raining so I had to postpone all my plans for the day. Round about lunch time a lady came in. We got chating and she told me she was the previous owner of the place and had lived there with her son. When she showed me a picture of him I nearly forgot to breathe. I recognised him immediately. He’s the boy who waved to me the first two nights I stayed here.” I cried. The woman shook her head. “It can’t be.”
“Why not?”
“Because Benji. My son is dead. He choked to death when we were still living here.” She smiled a small sad smile. “He was a very friendly boy. Always waved at the people staying in room 3 whenever they looked out the window.” I checked out that same day. I’m certain Benji isn’t an evil spirit or a vengeful spirit. But I didn’t feel comfortable knowing he was there. I haven’t ever been back to thei nn and I don’t want to go back. I don’t mind the dead as long as I’m a good distance from them.
Hope you liked it.
2nd story: The Cabin
(This story is purely fictional)
One night, a girl was left alone by her parents who was going to attend a dinner party. The girl then watched some extreme horror movies. When the girl decided to sleep, she went upstairs and undressed and put on her sleeping clothes and went to bed. Unaware, there was a man on a wooden cabin behind their house in the woods. As she undressed, he stared at her. The man kept looking until she went to sleep. He then sent his companion to break in the house. The girl’s stomach hurts, so she used the bathroom. When she was finished, she heard a voice saying, “I’ll be seeing you!” She thought her mind was just playing tricks on her, so she went to bed. Then, she heard the voice again, it got closer and it said: “Almost there. Just wait for the surprise!” She slept and when she woke up, she heard the door being scratched. She freaked out when she saw the knob starting to open. When the door opened, a man got in and put out his knife and started stabbing the poor girl to death. When the parents arrived, they saw that the house was so quiet. When they checked on their daughter, they saw the lifeless body of their beloved daughter. The face was so grotesque, almost demonic. They called the police when they saw a cabin and two men with a bloodied knife, and when the police arrived, the first group raided the cabin and the second one investigated the scene. The murderers escaped, but unfortunately, they were shot dead by a sniper. The police saw blood stains around the walls, as if she struggled. But what freaked them out is a bloody writing on the wall. It said: “Why did you not come home early mom?”
I love your stories SFK!!! This is my first time writing, so it might not be that good. s
The night before Christmas
Angel was in her pajamas sitting on the couch in the living room. It was five minutes until midnight, and she was anxiously waiting for Santa Claus. She dozed off around 1:00. She was awoken by the front door handle moving. Someone was trying to break in. Angel didn’t move a muscle. After about a minute, it stopped. Then she heard a soft mumbling noise coming from the chimney. She closed her eyes as something hit the ground. She peeked out of one eye and saw it was Santa. Something was different about him though. As he threw his sack on the ground, he smiled. Angel instantly knew what was wrong with him. He had at least eight rows of razor sharp teeth. His laugh was sinister. He left the living room and walked down the hallway towards Angel’s parents bedroom. She closed her eyes as tight as she could and eventually fell asleep.
The next morning, Christmas, she woke up and opened her presents under the tree. Then, she called for her mom and dad to come in there with her. She walked into their room to discover their remains tossed around the room. She started crying and called 911. She was terrified, and when the police got there, tears were streaming down her face. Two police officers came up to the door, but instantly ran away. Angel turned around and saw Santa with the razor sharp teeth. The last thing she did was scream before the room around her went black.
Chocolate Chip Cookie
This is my third story! (Hope you like this! It’s for creepy pasta)
This is a true story it happened to a friend of a friend of mine. Rex was a store guy.
He stocked, replaced shelves and even checked out the money register.Rex was helping out a few girls when an older man asked for help, Rex was very kind to the elderly so he said ‘yes’. He grabbed the old man’s bags and headed out of the store. Rex asked if he had a car or something but the man said: “no my car broke down, you don’t mind walking a few blocks do you son?” the man asked, “no sir “Rex replied with a tinkle of sweat going down his forehead. “Just a few more steps” said the old man. When they got there the old man gestured him to the living room to relax. He probably thought the old guy was so grateful he’d get a skate board or ‘motorcycle’! As Rex thought in his mind his stomach bellowed! He went over to the kitchen, and found himself some jar full of chocolate chip
Cookies! There was something weird about them the dark ‘icing’ looked like it got scratched off? Rex shrugged didn’t really matter. After all it’s a snack before dinner.
Couldn’t hurt having a few ‘cookies’ to keep the ‘blood sugar level’ from driving him nuts! So he took a few and ate them but then he craved for MORE!! He couldn’t help himself from wolfing the cookies DOWN! But then the jar was empty…oops this belonged to the old man! Then the old man came back from his room.Rex apologized to him “sir Im so sorry I got hungry and ate those ‘chocolate cookies’!” he said feeling guilty. The old man gave a quirky smile” that’s ok my boy! I don’t have teeth or even false ones! All I can do is lick the ‘dark icing’ off them!” Rex looked at the jar and turned pale… He nearly through up!
But eh it’s a true story! Rex went back to the store to continue his work.
But he’ll never go near the ‘a chocolate cookie’ especially from elderly men ever again!
Hope you all like it! And MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!
Anne’s your story is spooky! I like it(:
Fresh Meat
One night, when a man was going to have a lunch break, he heard a strange noise from the hallway. It said, “Fresh Meat, fresh MEAT!” The man quickened his pace and ran but reached a dead end. The noise got closer and closer, and the man was so scared he ran again. With bravery, he went out to see what was happening. He saw a delivery man holding a box with fresh beef. The man came in and actually said, “Fresh meat, who ordered fresh meat?” The man let out a sigh of relief and shouted, I ordered the meat! I ordered the meat!
“The dance doesn’t end ‘til one, and after we might be going to a friend’s house,” said Mrs. Burke, screwing a dangly earring into her earlobe. “If Alyssa gets hungry, there’s ice cream in the fridge. She’ll tell you where the other snacks in the kitchen are.” At this, eight-year-old Alyssa perked up from her seat at the couch.
“Is there an official bedtime?” I inquired.
“Yes,” answered Uncle Ross, shrugging on his tuxedo jacket. “Do you want the real one, or the one you’re going to pin an extra hour onto to pamper her?”
“Alyssa goes to bed at ten o’ clock. Please read her a bedtime story from one of her bookshelves. She’ll pick.” Mrs. Burke turned away from me, getting her clutch from the kitchen table. Her stiff blond curls wafted the sour smell of her hairspray towards me. When she turned back around, she continued her instructions while I stared intently at her heavily made-up face. She tried so desperately to look young and pretty.
“Don’t open the door to anyone unless it’s us. My cell number’s programmed into the house phone; in a real emergency you’d better call 911.”
Lord, she was acting as if this the first time I’d been left home alone, when I’d been babysitting my cousins for years.
“Give the girl a break, Jen,” protested Uncle Ross, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders. Mrs. Burke moved away from him and went to unlock the front door, leaving me alone with Uncle Ross. “Be good,” he said. “Go to bed at a reasonable time.”
“Got it,” I said, herding him towards the door. He reached out to ruffle my hair and followed his wife outside. “Bye,” I called out, but only Uncle Ross waved back.
I watched the progress of the Italian sports car out from the window. Once the car vanished from my view, I loosened the curtains from the tiebacks and drew the flowery fabric over the window. With a sigh, I turned away from the window and eyed the rest of the room.
It was pristine. The carpet was a blushing pink, with rose-shaped rugs in a deeper hue artistically strewn across the floor. The kitchen table was made of dark polished wood with sharp edges and a glass tabletop. I could faintly see the reflection of the vase of artificial flowers that rested on the table. Next to the door, a shiny glass cabinet resided, full of dolls with plaited hair and dimpled smiles. Their weirdly sinister faces freaked me out, but I knew from Mrs. Burke’s rants that they were very valuable collector’s items.
The house was immaculate. It was perfect. It was…unnatural, to be honest. The only magazines I could see were glossy and arranged in neat piles on top of the cabinet with the dolls in it, looking as if no one had ever thumbed through them in their life-completely different from my house, where all the magazines were dog-eared and crumpled. I could only remember one instance of Mrs. Burke touching her magazines-when she’d made my little sister put her plate on top of one when we sat at the kitchen table for tea, on one of the few times we’d been over. She’d put the magazine under my sister’s plate so Megan wouldn’t spill crumbs onto the shiny table, leaving the eleven-year-old humiliated.
“Leslie?” came Alyssa’s high-pitched voice from the next room. “Yeah, coming,” I called back while walking towards her room. Her little face looked up at me anxiously from the flowered armchair she was sitting on. Mrs. Burke certainly had a thing for flowers.
Alyssa was fingering her long brown plaits. They were tied up incredibly neatly, without a single hair out of place. They reminded me of the dolls in the cabinet. “Do you want to play with me?” Alyssa asked, almost shyly. I’d planned on watching T.V. and texting my boyfriend, but…“I guess it’s okay to play for a while,” I told her, and she jumped down from the armchair eagerly. “What do you wanna play?” I asked.
“Let’s make bracelets,” Alyssa suggested. Well, that was an odd request, but I nodded and watched as she fetched a shiny white ceramic jar filled with beads. The shininess of this house was starting to grate. She sat down carefully onto one of the rugs on the floor and poured the beads into her fingers. Kneeling beside her, I picked up a silky thread from the tin. “You can make a purple one,” Alyssa told me. As she pointed out the purple beads, my eyes were drawn to her fingers. Or, her fingertips.
Each and every fingernail had been brutally cut back.
“Alyssa! What happened to your nails?!”
She quickly curled her fingers into a fist, hiding the stubs. My loud voice had startled her, as if she was a little mouse. I reached out and gently held her little fist in my hand, rubbing her fingers until she unfurled her fist. Each nail was a tiny sliver, with the surrounding skin a bright, painful pink.
“Alyssa? Who cut your nails?” I asked, kindly but my voice firm. I had a feeling that I already knew the answer.
She ducked her head, staring at her hand in my lap. “I did.”
I know a lie when I see one. “Did your mother cut your nails?”
Her blue eyes filled with tears. “Yes,” she whispered.
Appalled, I looked down at her brutally cut nails. “Why-”
“I had art at my school and I got the paint in my fingernails so mommy said I was an untidy disgrace and I shouldn’t have fingernails if I can’t keep them clean and she cut them off.”
“What else did she do to you?” My voice was suddenly brusque. I had to know if anything worse was happening in this household. The unnatural perfection of the house, the fingernails…was Mrs. Burke even sane?
“Nothing. She doesn’t do anything to me. My mommy is the kindest prettiest mommy in the world.”
“Alyssa! Tell me the truth!”
She flinched. Her lips started quivering. “Oh no, Allie, don’t cry. If you do then your tears will fall on your dress and it’ll get dirty-”
Like I’d suspected, this tactic worked better than anything else I could’ve said. Alyssa wiped her eyes carefully. “Alyssa, don’t worry-I won’t ever tell anyone, I swear…”
I watch as she eyes me suspiciously. “Alyssa. Did she cut your toenails like that too?”
Her head shakes, jerkily, and so I say, “Alyssa, show me your toes.”
All of a sudden, Alyssa threw her head back in a loud scream while tugging off her shoes and socks. Her bloody sock lands in my lap as she howls, “I don’t have any!”
“Earliest Memories”
When I was in high school, I was assigned to an “Earliest Memories” sort-of project. Since I had a horrible memory, I had a very hard time with this project.
One day, I was looking through the attic for anything that could help me. I found a box marked “Max’s Memories” that was layered with dust, so I managed to drag it down and open the box. Inside was a diary, and a few pictures. I thought none of this would help me, but I was proved wrong when I flipped through the diary. I realized this was from middle school, and I knew it would pass me so I packed it in my backpack. I decided to gaze through the pictures since it could help me get extra credit.
Most of them were from middle school as I suspected. They contained me and a girl that I didn’t recognize. She had long blonde hair, jade green eyes, and small dimples when she smiled. I looked on the back of the picture for my mom’s messy cursive that could hint anything about who she was. It only said, “Max and Lissa Smith.”
Since I had no recollections of her, I wanted to look her name up. When I did, an article about her popped up. As I read it, my stomach churned and I felt sick to my stomach. Memories of her rushed back to me, and I finally knew her she was.
I got the diary out and flipped to the last few pages. In my handwriting, I read:
I feel so horrible. How could I let this happen? Lissa was my best friend and now she’s dead, thanks to me. I spent last night crying, and I am shaken up super bad. I don’t know what to do next. I’m honestly going crazy.
I only read that paragraph, and then I gazed at a drawing at the bottom of the page. I sickened me more. It was a picture of a girl hanging herself.
A flashback occurred to me. I was twelve years old, and me and Lissa were walking in the hallways of our middle school. Glances sharp as daggers were directed at Lissa, and her face indicated her anxiety was growing. I tried my best to comfort her, but she shook her head with tears coming down her face. People rudely pointed and laughed at her, and I was so mad at them. My other friends who were the “cool group” in middle school made some insults at her. They then asked me to join them for lunch. I agreed, since I wanted to be popular like them.
I left Lissa alone the rest of the day. My friends progressed to make her feel as horrible as possible, and I just laughed with them, hoping I was cool.
The next day, I had learned that Lissa hung herself. I started crying, which resulted in me writing in my diary.
Snapping back to reality, I felt tears come down my face. I heard laughing behind me, and I turned around.
Lissa was smiling evilly at me. “You left me alone to go through all that. Now it’s time to repay me . . .”
A group of boys were sitting around the local cemetery talking about ghosts and other things, trying to scare each other.
“Didja here ’bout the haunted house ’round the block?” asked one.
“Naw. You don’ believe in that, do ya’?”
“Don’ yew?” A third boy looked on, confused.
“Whatcha talkin’ ’bout?”
“The haunted house! Dontcha know?” said the first.
“Naw. I jus’ got here. Y’all know that!” said the third, and a fourth explained.
“In that big ol’ mansion ’round over there-” the boy pointed off in a random direction. “- there used to live a woman and her baby. Her husband, well, ‘e wus dead as he cud be, ‘e wus. He died inna war, ‘e did. That woman, she wus sad, but she kept care of that ‘lil baby. Well, one day, that baby got sick! Got the flu, or somethin’. An’ that baby died too. She wus so sad that she killed ‘erself inna fire in the fireplace.” He paused to take a swig from the bottle he was holding. “Ever’one knows that if ya’ go an’ spend the night, she’ll kill ya’!” The boys all shuddered, except for the previously confused one.
“I ain’t ‘fraid uv a ghost!” He said. The other boys frowned. One spoke up.
“I’ll pay ya’ twenty bucks to spend the night. Betcha yew won’t!” He smirked at the other boy.
“Yeah, I will! I told ja, I ain’t ‘fraid!”
So that night, the boy packed up all the things he would need to spend the night in the supposedly haunted house. The other boys were already there. They watched him go in, then left.
The boy crept through the house. It was drafty and cold, as well as dark and gloomy. He came upon a room with a couch across from a fireplace. He was reluctant to even step into the room, but he was cold and tired, so he lay down on the couch and fell into a restless sleep.
In the early hours of morning it started to storm. At six in the morning it was as dark as it had been at midnight, and by seven, it was even darker. The boy woke up. He looked around, momentarily forgetting where he was. He leaned into the warmth of the crackling fire. Suddenly, it turned white and silver. The figure of a beautiful woman was standing before him. On her face was a look of intense grief.
His friends were outside, waiting for him to come out. They heard him scream and, after a moment of hesitation, ran in to find him. They searched the whole house, but couldn’t find him. His things were gone and the fire place was clean; there were no ashes.
The police searched and searched, but they couldn’t find him.
Years later at their high school reunion, when they had just forgotten about that night, they were all walking down at the town square when they saw something that they would surely never forget; where there was usually a flag, instead hung the flattened body of their childhood friend…
The phone call.
All of the “Phone Call” stories have are usually the same. But not this one.
Three friends were in a bedroom. Tori, Esther and Victoria. The three friends were like sisters. They had sleepier almost every weekend. They blocked out everyone except each other. One weekend on October 18 at 8:36 p.m. Esther went downstairs to get a knife to cut the cake Tori’s mother fixed for them. Tori and Victoria ran an hid in the walk-in closet. When Esther came back up the wooden stairs and back into Tori’s bedroom, Tori and Victoria quickly opened the door and scared Esther. In shock Esther accidentally stabbed herself in the stomach. The two girls in shock ran down stairs to get Tori’s mother. When she came upstairs she bent down next to Esther and cried. They called 911 because they could still see Esther’s stomach go up and down slightly, but the doctors knew noting could save her. The two girls had to spend two years knowing Esther’s death was their fault. The same day at exactly the same time and the same second they revived a phone call. The caller ID said “BFF” and Tori suddenly remembered that is what she put Esther under in her caller ID. But, Esther was dead and the two girls got frightened. Tori picked up the phone. H-h-h-h-hello? She heard Esther’s uplifting voice. “Tori” she said. “Esther ?!?” Said Tori in shock. She covered up the speaker and said to Victoria “Maybe she isn’t dead”. She heard something coming from the phone. “Tori” said Esther. “Yes?”, said Tori. “Look out the window”, said Esther. Tori slowly pulled open the curtains. She saw Esther standing in the driveway, holding the same knife she had been killed with.
The walk home
On Halloween night, I was walking home with my friend from trick or treating. We passed this house with really scary decorations with a bunch of people out front. They all had these creepy masks on and were whispering to each other. We kept walking. Nicky said, “That house was really creepy! What was with all those people in the yard?” I answered, “I don’t know. Maybe there was a party there and theywere leaving.” Suddenly,I noticed that some one that was in the front of that house was following us. He had a mask that lokked like the devil. We started walking faster when another person appeared. He had a zombie mask on. My friend and I turned the corner, and when the people did, I realized there were more. Finally there were around 40 people following us with all kinds of horrible undescribable masks on. We started running, and they just kept following us. We finally got to my house, ran inside, and shut he door. Nicky decided to stay over at my house because she didn’t want to go outside with the creeps. The next morning I went outside and non one was there, so I got the newspaper. When I sat down to read it, I was horrified at the leading story:
COUPLE BRUTALLY MURDERED
Kate and Greg Simmons were murdered brutally outside their house last night.
That is all I could read because Kate and Greg Simmons were my parents.
After the funeral, I moved in with Nicky.
We will never trick or treat again.
Here’s another story I came up with. P.S. Thanks for posting my other story!:
Amnesia
Chloe Thompson was a high school senior and a real klutz. She was always getting into accidents, like slipping in the hallway and walking into locker doors. But one Wednesday afternoon, Chloe was in a rush to get to algebra class and had to take the stairs down two floors to get there. But as she went down the stairs, she slipped and fell down the stairs, hitting her head and knocking herself unconscious. When Chloe woke up, she was lying on a large soft bed, with a thick quilt over her and a wet washcloth on her forehead. She looked over and saw a small table by the bed with a glass of water on it. Suddenly, a young man with brown hair and blue eyes walked in the room, carrying a tray with pancakes and eggs on it. “Hi, honey. I’m glad that you finally woke up. You took quite a nasty fall.” The man said as he set the tray on Chloe’s bed. “Who are you? Where am I?” Chloe asked, confused. She had barely any idea what had happened, other than the fall. “Oh, that must’ve been a really bad fall. I’m your father, and you’re home.” The man said, gingerly patting Chloe’s head. Slowly, Chloe realized how starving she was, having not eaten in two hours. So she took the fork on the tray, stabbed a piece of pancake, and started chewing it. But as she swallowed the food, Chloe started feeling weird. As she looked at the man, his face contorted into a sinister smile. As Chloe started to black out, the man got close to her face and said, “You should be more careful, dear.”
Hope you like it!
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To Feel Alive
Kendra shivered, trembling with trepidation as she slowly reached out to grasp the handle. She tried to peer into the small, square window but inside was dark, complete blackness. Confused, she glanced around the long, empty alley looking for another door. She was sure she was at the right place. Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled while simultaneously turning the handle and gently, slowly, silently pushing open the thick, heavy door.
Straining her eyes, she subtly noticed large stains on the door, but her thoughts quickly were averted from the stains when a lamp suddenly turned on beside her. A shriek escaped her lips, and Kendra stumbled backwards almost sending herself sprawling onto the narrow alley’s cold, dirty ground.
Shaken, she timidly called out.
“Hello?”
A deep, gruff voice answered loudly sending chills up her arms.
“Enter and be seated.”
Complying, Kendra found herself seated at a long, very long, table. Its vastness overwhelmed her, and she began to feel lightheaded. Perhaps it was from the fear that was starting to swell inside her, or maybe, just maybe, it was the stench that nearly took her breath away at first. She could not place where it came from, but Kendra did note with displeasure that it smelled a bit like blood. Almost… like stale blood if such a thing existed.
Across from her on the other end of the enormous twelve-foot table sat a man clothed in black. Kendra wondered why a man would wear a suit just for an interview, but she did not question him. She studied his appearance, sensing him doing the same with her. His eyes, shining from the light of the lamp, illuminated a bright green. His pallid skin was quite a contrast to his mouth which, to Kendra, appeared to be very dark. She leaned forward a bit to see him better but had no success. Suddenly, feeling nervous and obligated to speak she said, “Thank you for welcoming me sir. I trust you received my letter.”
“Letter? I was given no such thing.”
“You must have gotten it with all my resumes and information papers. I sent them over a week ago.”
“No, I requested no letters. Why would I need your information when I’ve not a clue who you are?”
“Sir? I’m Kendra Wusser. I applied for the teaching position at the school, and you needed my information before the interview.”
“I do believe you have mistaken me for another man.”
“Are you not Mr. Idrin Kurblud?”
“Why yes, but you’ve mistaken me for the high school principal who lives just on the other side of town.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kendra said quickly. “Sir, I must go. I fear I am already late for my interview.”
Kendra stood, and started briskly walking to the door. Within seconds he’d crossed the room silently and now had a firm grip on her arm.
“You can’t leave now. Stay, you must. Are you hungry? I know it’s been a long day, and I’m in the mood for something to drink. What will you have?”
“Oh, really, please, I must leave!” Kendra exclaimed, trying for the door with no luck. She looked back at the man, now able to see that his lips were a bright yet dark, crimson hue. She trembled as he took hold of her long, red hair and laughed.
“Like fire,” he said. “I like playing with fire… like blood… I like the taste of blood.”
At that moment he leaned in, pulling her close. She felt a sharp sting in her neck, and she screamed as she felt dizzy from the pain. Slumping to the floor, her head propped against the door frame, her screams began to quiet. Her breathing began to slow, and the last thing Kendra saw were the stains on the door that she initially ignored. They were bloodstains!
The first thing Kendra felt when she awoke was the pounding pressure in her head. Her eyes felt heavy, and her body felt different. She opened her eyes to see darkness all around her. Why could she see people sleeping around her? Why was she seeing in the dark? Taking a second look around her, Kendra noticed that not one of the bodies were breathing. Crawling closer to them, she realized none of the people were alive. They were all girls, she observed. All about 5’7” with the same long, red hair. Kendra startled, grabbing at her own hair and comparing. With a sinking feeling, she realized she was another victim of this man. She was supposed to be dead.
Kendra looked at each girl for any signs of how they were killed. Rolling them onto their backs, she could clearly see two almost triangular-looking shapes on the left side of each neck. Slightly gagging, Kendra lifted her own hand to her neck and pulled it slowly away. It was covered with slightly crusted wet blood.
Then Kendra began to thirst. She felt a small longing sensation in her stomach slowly begin to spread craving throughout her body. She began to shake violently and cried out.
Suddenly footsteps sounded outside the door, and Kendra saw the door swing open. The man standing there wore a look of complete shock, as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing.
“What?… How?….You’re… alive….”
She looked around her, once again taking notice of the dead bodies she was surrounded by.
“You… tried to kill me?”
“I…”
Kendra stalked up to the rather large man. Placing a palm on his chest, she shoved him backward sending him practically sailing back across the room. She stared down at her hand, amazed thinking where did I get that kind of strength?
Kendra quickly averted her thoughts from her newfound strength as another pang of thirst engulfed her stomach. She dropped to her knees calling out to the stranger, and he came and knelt beside her hesitantly.
“Thirsty,” she gasped. “I’m… so thirsty…”
The stranger looked pained momentarily but left the room coming back with a glass of water. Kendra gulped the water down in seconds and began shaking her head.
“No… so thirsty… I need…”
The man groaned and motioned for her to come to one of the bodies he was next to. She complied, and they both knelt by the body as he showed her how he drank their blood.
“There is not enough blood in any of them for them to still be alive, but there is a little bit that you can finish off in each body, and hopefully then your thirst will be quenched.”
After a slight hesitation, Kendra took her nail and reopened the incisions in the girl’s neck and leaned forward pressing her mouth to the wound.
As Kendra drank the blood, she began to feel stronger, more powerful. The sweetness over-powered her, and she found herself not able to stop drinking until not another drop would come out. Licking her now-stained, florid lips. She moved quickly to the next girl in the juxtaposed order they were in.
When she came to the last girl, she paused. Something felt wrong. She noticed this girl was warm rather than cold like the others. Kendra took hold of one of the girl’s wrists as she drank her blood quickly. She found that she had difficultly swallowing the blood and was very irritated by it. When she could finally get no more, Kendra sat back. Exhausted, yet wide awake, Kendra realized she hadn’t let go of the girl’s wrist. She unbound her finger that was hooked in the bracelet. The material felt strangely familiar. Kendra lifted the girl’s wrist to get a better view and twisted it around to the front. Gasping, Kendra glanced down at her own wrist. She began to shake violently as the realization came. She stared into the face of the familiar girl and repeatedly whispered, “I’m so sorry.” There laid her best friend. Her fiery red hair, just like Kendra’s, was pulled back in a messy bun; her once bright blue eyes now dully staring ahead with no life. An almost permanent blush faded on her cheeks. The identical bracelet that each girl wore was tied to her right hand, a symbol of their lifelong friendship, now broken.
Kendra had just finished off her best friend. She drank her blood and twenty other girls’ blood as well and she felt… alive!
I Witnessed:
I was walking home from my friends house,late,very very late.As I was walking I noticed a garden in a backyard,it was a beautiful garden,roses of all colors were in it.As I stared I also noticed a little girl.She was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in all of my exisistance.She had long curly blond hair that reached to her waist.Her bangs were braided in to a little crown that reached around her head and a baby pink bow holding the “crown” together.She was lightly tanned.She had these dancing blue eyes that twinkled like stars in the sky.She had light pink lips that were moving as she sang a little song to herself.She was wearing a knee-length dress that was as white as snow,white,the color of innocence.she wore white sandals.Her beauty was so intense I could only sit there and stare like and idiot.She would make Aphrodite look like a zombie.My gaze broke when I heard angry shouting.I looked at the girl’s father,i assumed it was her dad.He was drunk on anger,high on envy.He was the exact opposite of this sweet,young,innocent girl.He was a fat,tall,man with a beard and chin-length hair,he was hideous,he wore greasy jeans and dirty white t-shirt.He was holding up a long knife.NO!He was planning on killing her!I was frozen,I was of no help,I couldn’t move a muscle.His expression was calm,darkly calm.”Natures first green is gold.Her hardest hue to hold.her early leaf’s a flower,but only so an hour.Then leaf subsides to leaf,so Eden sank to greif.So dawn goes down to day,Nothing gold can stay.I remembered that poem by Robert Frost,Nothing Gold Can Stay.I realizes why he had chosen that poem to speak she is golden,for she can not stay…alive.The girl shooke in fear.The father took her by her hair and slit his own daughter’s throat.As I watched the little girl’s white dress of innocence soak crimson of hatrid and envy.The world was suddenly spinning and everything turned black,within seconds the ground came closer and I was out in the nightmare of unconsiousness.
I woke up in my bed.I sat up in alarm.Relief wavered over me,”It was all just a dream” I sighed happily.I flipped on the T.V. for entertainment.the news was on,I was fixing to turn it to something else when I saw the girl’s father on T.V.I shuttered with pure horror.The father’s hair was white,with insanity.He had blood-soaked chlothes and the cops were dragging him out.In the background you could see a coroner,they were putting a small corpse in a bag.The father suddenly started singing “I killed my daughter over there!I have blood in my white hair!I destroy all witnesses so please beware!” he sang a madman’s lullaby.He laughed evily and said “I will be back for the witness!”I had a sharp pain in my stomach.I was next on that sychopath’s hit-list all because I witnessed.
Here is one I thought of while listning to the radio.
Musical Murder:
I was sitting in my car wandering,ok well honestly worrying to myself.I am about to burst out in to tears,I am more horrified in this moment then I have ever been in my entire life!You see,it all started only a week ago,but now it seems lifetimes ago:
I sat in my room texting my friend Hayley.Like every other 17 year old girls all we talked about was gossip,who is dating who,who dumped who,and who is going to that band’s concert,etc.Suddenly my phone rang.I awnsered it ont he first ring.”Hello?” I said.”Hey Izzy,its me,Hayley” seriously Hayley I thought to myself.”Are you really to lazy to text?” I asked jokingly.”Yeah,hey you dont want me getting carpal tunnel do you?” she asked teasingly.”No,but are you going to that concert with me this Saturday?” I asked hopefully.I loved this band,it is only the best band in the world.”I cant go to the’Muse’ concert,I am grounded from sneaking out to that nightclub.Crap!My parents are home I have to go,bye!” “Bye” I said bitterly in to the dead phone.Great.I am going to have to the ‘Muse’ concert alone.I decided since today was
Wednseday and I only had 3 more days of waiting till the concert I decided to get pumped up by listing to some of their songs.I grabbed my Ipod and scrolled down till I found “Our Time is Running Out” I listemed to the lyrics,I knew them by heart.”Bury her,I won’t let you bury her”I paused the song.Her?Its supposed to be I wont let you bury “it” not “her.” I listned to that part again it said “it” I shrug off paranioa and continued listening to the song. “I won’t let you smother it,I won’t let you murder her.” Again?It is supposed to be “it” I turned off my Ipod paronia sneaking up on me.
Saturday:
I was in my car driving up to the stadium where “Muse” was preforming.I pre-bought my tickets online so all I had to do was walk-in.Thousands of screaming fans held up signs such as “We <3 u Mathew!!" and the parallel signs with the word "Muse" inside of it (thats there logo)Muse was performing "Supermassive Black Hole" first,I noticed that Mathew,the lead singer,was staring at me the entire concert.I also noticed that he did the same things with "Our Time Is Running Out" like on my Ipod,saying "her" and not "it" and performing "Uprising" when he sung "Red tape to keep the truth confined" he stared at me with an evil grin.I must be imaging things,to think the lead singer of "Muse" would actually want to kill me,he doesnt even know me!I was walking to my car,when all of a sudden,someone tapped on my shoulder.I spun around,terrified."Izzy,hello!" said Mathew?What the heck was the lead singer of "Muse" doing talking to me?"Hi,how did you know my name?"He took my arm and started to drag me behind the stadium "Where are we going I asked" terrified."Somewhere to talk in private" he said darkly.Once we were behind the stadium where nobody could see or hear us he smiled evily."I know you figured me out" he accused.Great.My suspicions were confirmed.He wanted to kill me.He took out red tape from his bag and with one quick motion taped my mouth shut."Red tape to keep the truth confined" he sung the words from the song "Uprising." He had his guitar in his hand and with one movement he shoved it through my chest.Blood poured out of it rapidly."Im going to murder her,Im going to bury her" he sung the changed lyrics from "Our Time Is Running Out" and then another line from that song "Our time is running out!" Our time is running out?I thought to myself before I saw that he stabbed himself with a knife.This guy is a sychopath!I thought horrified."I have been watching you for a while now,we are just like 'Romeo and Juliet' a tragic love story."Love story?I didnt even know this guy.I started blacking out I heard him reciting Romeo's words from the tomb."Death that hath sucked thy honey of thy breath,hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.Thou art not conquered beauty's ensign is yet crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks.Death's pale flag does not advance there."He crawled towards me."Eyes look your last,arms take your last embrace,and lips,oh you the doors of breath,seal with a rightous kiss!"He kissed me,well the tape,but you get what im trying to say."Thus,with a kiss,I die!"He fell dead and as did I.In the afterlife I found out that my parents knew of his stalking,so they got a restraing order put on him.This is were he went literally insane and thought of himself as in love with me.this is where he thought of "Romeo and Juliet" the "capulets" (my parents) didnt want a montague (him) keeping their "love" apart this is when he got obsessive and watched me sleep at night and followed me everywhere.This is where he had his idea of a "musical murder."
*the lead singer of "Muse" is not insane or a killer,only an insanely good singer,I hope you enjoyed my story*
Hope you like it!
The Photograph-
I cannot remember much but, it still brings me chills on my spine. Well,I was sixteen when Nicole , Max, Alexander,
Rhea, Rachel, Penny, Maddie and Jake(that’s me) went camping. Like every time, we roasted marshmallows on a large bonfire.Rhea, who is very fond of photography, took a picture of all of us. The next day I called up Rhea and asked her to send me the photograph that we took at the campsite via email. Which was my biggest mistake. After a few minutes, I recieved an email of the picture,saw Nicole, Max, Alexander, Rhea, Rachel, Penny, Maddie, Steve and me. Steve? How was that possible? Steve was’nt there at the Camping site and moreover, he isn’t alive. He died at the last camp we went.But, his death remains a mystery. No one know how did he die. I called up Rhea and told her about the picture. But only if Rhea was living anymore.Yes, you guessed it right. Rhea was dead. All my friends and I were astonished about the photo and felt doleful on the loss of Rhea. Later that same night I got a call from Max and he said that Rachel, Penny and Maddy were also dead. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I decided that I would go back at the camping site and find Steve. I traveled along with Max, Alexander and Nicole. As we reached we split up into 2 groups. Nicole and Alexander and Max and me. After an hour or so Max and me found nothing. But, Alexander and Nicole were an hour late. We thought to go and find them.We finally found them
after sometime. But dead. Now there were only two of us left Max and me. We went back home that night and I thought that I should take a glimpse at the photo once again. To my surprise I saw noticed that Steve disappered from the photograph. The next day, I read an article about the death of Max. I cried and cried. I really thought hard that why did steve’s spirit kill so many people …………Then I realized, it all made sense. I was’nt there last camp when Steve was killed. That is why i am alive. Nicole , Max, Alexander, Rhea, Rachel, Penny, Maddie were killed because they held the secret of
the death of Steve, or they might have killed Steve which I dont really think they might have done.After all, I still miss my friends. Then I thought that I should take a last look at the photograph, and as I expected …………………the picture was blank.And that was the end of it.
——————–the end——————————-
The Angel
One day a little girl named Asia was playing with her doll. The doll was made to look like a angel.The doll was in a horrible condition but Asia insisted on playing with it. Asia’s mother walked into the room and came up with a plan. She would secretly get rid of the doll somehow and replace it with another doll. She did not want her daughter playing with such a filthy doll.That night the mother crept into the daughter’s room and took the doll from the Daughter’s grip. She replaced it with a beautiful porcelain doll. the other doll had beautiful curly blonde hair, stunning green eyes and white skin. The mother doubted giving such a breakable doll to the child.She decided to give the doll to the child. She took the filthy doll and took it outside to the forest. The family was very lucky to be so wealthy. She took the doll to the tallest tree she could find then threw it until it stayed in the tree. The mother ran back to the house. Later that day the mother was making brunch. The daughter had just woken up. “Mama why is there a broken doll in my closet?” The Mom walked into the room and discovered the old doll propped up on the bed. Asia, where did you find this doll!” The little girl was confused. ” It was facing me when I woke up. The mother cleaned up the broken doll and took the old doll to the pool. She hid the doll in the filter. Hoping that it wouldn’t be found again. When the mother walked back into the room she was shocked. On the wall was written ” Why are you trying to get rid of me!” The mom was scared so she ran back to the pool. she checked the filter and was shocked. The doll was gone. Just then she heard her daughter scream. The mother was terrified of what she would find. She ran as fast as she could back to the house. The doll was Throwing knives at the small little girls body, but it was obvious she was already dead. The mom ran to her room. She stayed there for one hour then worked up the courage to step outside of the room.The doll was eating the dead girls body. After that the Mom went crazy and killed herself, over struck with sadness. Some say if you go to that house you can see the doll smiling and running around the house.
SOY CHUPACABRA, TRES
SOY CHUPACABRA, DOS
SOY CHUPACABRA, UN
“What are we going to do about this, Katt? We can’t keep putting up with this, it’s got to stop,” He looked at his wife with a dangerous glint in his eye.
“No,” Katt recognized the look, “It’s just going to make whoever it is mad. Please don’t do it, Daniel.”
“It’s got to stop.”
Them? Oh they were my parents. I told them to pay attention to the warnings. The morning after they had that conversation, they were dead, my father holding his shotgun and mother in the kitchen. I ran when I had the chance. All across Texas its been happening. But they didn’t listen to me. Of course they didn’t. Our neighbors didn’t listen either, nor my Uncle Will. All of them are gone now. How, you say? I don’t think you’ll understand, but I will try.
He’s named himself Chupacabra. You’ll understand, the more I tell you, why he’s named so. The tragedies have happened across the Mexican border, not only Texas. I guess you kind of figured that out yourself, the name and all. You hear the name whispered around the campfire at night, but not his. The one he named himself after. The Chupacabra.
The beast drinks the blood of helpless farm animals. The man drinks the blood of helpless farm hands and takes their livers. It’s disgusting, I know, but someone has to know. That isn’t already dead of course.
This man, well he’s more beast than human. Anyhow, this… beast will give you three warnings. First he’ll say “Soy Chupacabra. Dispone de tres Dias.” Only a hoarse whisper in the wind, then he vanishes. He then gets one of your animals, kills it, and writes it on your house in the animals’ blood. And it keeps on like that, him counting down and you not paying attention to the warnings. Unless you’re smart, like I was. I knew what was happening. But there’s no way to stop it.
Before he kills you, he looks into your eyes, smiles his inhuman smile, and says, “Soy Chupacabra.” Then slits your throat with his nails, long hooked things sharpened to a point, and drains you of blood. He digs into your side, rips your liver out, and eats it, relishing every last bite. How do I know all of this? While he did it to mother, I was in the cupboard, being somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. Eating cookies I wasn’t supposed to eat. Seeing something a seven year old should have never see.
As I relate to you this story, fate has finally caught up to the runaway. A scratching sound on the window, and he’s there. His dead eyes gaze at me through his disgusting black hair, wondering, I suppose, how victory will taste after all these years. I bleakly stare back, daring him. He understands and smiles in return, his rotting teeth black stubs in his bloody gums.
“SOY CHUPACABRA”
Here’s another story I wrote. I think it’s pretty good:
Tennis Championship
Vance Lanchosse, a young tennis player, was competing in a national tennis championship. He had worked incredibly hard to get where he was and desperately wanted to win it all. But there was only one obstacle that damaged Vance’s otherwise perfect goal: Chester Triss. Chester and Vance had first encountered each other in the regional competition and competed against each other. Chester won, but Vance still had enough wins to advance to the nationals. Vance knew he could never beat Chester if they made the final two, and couldn’t stand the fact that he might lose when he was so close to victory. The night before the competition began, Vance sat in his hotel room, stressing over the events of the next day. As he thought more about Chester, Vance grew more angry. Then, Vance got an idea-a horrible idea. Early the following morning, Chester had just woken up when his cell phone rang. When he answered it, he was surprised to find it was Vance. “Chester, meet me by the pool around back. We need to talk.” Vance said hastily. “Sure, Vance. Give me a few minutes.” Chester said. Thinking Vance had had a change of heart and wanted to make ammends, Chester quickly showered, got dressed, and went to meet Vance. When Chester showed up at the hotel pool, Vance was nowhere to be seen. “Vance! Are you here?” Chester shouted. After a few minutes, Chester started to leave. But as he turned around, he saw Vance standing behind him, grinning evilly. “Vance-” Chester began to say, but then, Vance pushed Chester into the pool. Then, he held Chester under the way by his shoulders. Chester tried to escape, but couldn’t break Vance’s grip. Vance continued to hold Chester underwater until he finally stopped struggling. As Vance looked at Chester’s body floating in the pool, Vance muttered, “Now nothing stands in my way.” Then, with that, Vance dropped a folded-up piece of paper onto the ground and left. When another competitor discovered Chester’s body, she called the police and they investigated. They discovered the paper Vance had left behind and saw it was a suicide note that appeared to be written by Chester. The police investigated, but they found no evidence of homocide and deemed Chester’s death a suicide.
(Hope you like it!)
She Said She Was A Angel
Hi, my name is Justin. And I am going to die any minute now. I’m hiding in a tree. And I have enough paper with me to warn you. This is my story:
A week ago we moved to a house that had just been built. It was the nicest house I’ve ever seen. I picked a room and started to unpack. I happened to look to my right and i noticed a mirror on the wall. It was a small, round mirror with a black frame. It looked as new as the house.
I approached it and started to fix my hair when I noticed a 13 year old girl. I looked behind my shoulder horrified. Nothing there. The image of her didn’t leave my mind though. Medium length red hair, super pale skin, even though I was scared by the event I found the girl attractive.
Tonight at midnight I looked in the mirror again. No girl. I turned around and screamed. The girl was lying on my bed. She was wearing a white dress that to my surprise was darker than her skin. Stepping back I asked,”Who are you?”
Looking up she replyed,” An angel.” I didn’t know what to say. After a moment she continued,”I was sent here.” I asked why. She began to laugh. She wouldn’t stop. Talking over her I asked her name. That made her stop.
Her once blue eyes became black, her voice got low, her hair turned into fire, her teeth became sharp. I screamed as she began to hover over my bed. She lifted her hands up. As she made a fist my bed started to be crushed by an invisible force. “My name? YOU WANT MY NAME?” I ran out of my room and sprinted outside and here i am.
She found me! She’s talking. She said she’s here to take me away. She’s climbing up the tree. Mom, dad, I love y
And that’s the story. Who was she? What was she? Here’s a hint: she thought his soul tasted delious.
YOU
The next time you go to the library, be sure to keep an eye out for a certain book. There is no other book like it, and no copies. It can turn up anywhere in the library. It can be on any shelf, any table, in the hands of any person. The cover is made of leather, and the book is titled “YOU”.
Once you find the book, don’t open it. Go to the librarian to check the book out. The librarian should give you a strange look and utter “Oh… that one…”.
Bring the book home. You may be tempted to open the book, but make sure you don’t. At midnight, step into your closet, book in hand, and shut the door. Make sure that all you see is darkness, and that the only noise you can hear is your heartbeat.
Open the book. In the book contains all of the knowledge of your past, present, and future. As you flip the pages of the book, moving from past events to present events, stop once you reach the end of the present events. You will know when to stop when you see yourself in the closet, reading the book.
Before you move on to read future events, think about whether you REALLY want to know about the future.
If you decide not to read further, close the book, leave it on the floor in your closet, and leave. Be sure to keep the book INSIDE the closet. You will notice in the morning that the book is gone.
If you decide to read your future events, begin to turn the pages of the book. It is extremely important that you DON’T scream when you read about your death. Don’t take your eyes off the book when you see yourself being dragged into the depths of darkness that was once your closet. Don’t blink as you see yourself being torn apart by a hungry beast, the bloody book laying on the floor next to your severed limbs. Don’t be surprised when you feel the beast’s hand on your shoulder…
I Got this form another friend hope you like it
:)
Come A Little Closer…
There once was a couple who desperately wanted a child.The wife awaited her husband with great news of a baby one fine day in the spring. The husband pampered the unborn child with a full heart until she was born. They named the child Abigail. There was no surprise that she was a daddy’s girl and she was all they ever wanted. On Abigail’s 5th birthday in her adorable English accent she told her parents”Mommy and Daddy I do not want a party I want to spend the day with you at the park”. the couple would do anything for Abigail so off they went to the park.When the day was done Abigail got a purple dress, a red bow, a red jeweled purple diary, and a purple amulet. For the following week Abigail would spread her arms, close her eyes, and repeat the phrase: my my my little friend we’ll be friends until the end you are light as lead soon you will be dead. The couple took Abigail for a walk to clear her mind. Abigail still controlled her heart and told the couple don’t go any further there is great danger ahead but it was no use. With red glaring eyes the couple fell into the witch’s pit of death. “Mommy, daddy” screamed the weeping girl.The couple told her that it was too late and to run home. She knew in her heart to trust them. So Abigail went to the house and she raised herself in secrecy for 22 years for she knew the witch was looking for her. She married in the same house and still managed to keep it secret and had 2 children whose names were Haylee and Hillary.The husband eventually died when the children were 5. Abigail was falling under the witch’s spell and began to die. She gave her children the things she had gotten when she was 5 before dying .Haylee and Hillary were sent to the orphanage along with the witch. Abigail’s amulet made her once again 5 from pure heart but her daughters were poisoned by the witch and now dead. Left in grief and heartbreak again Abigail escaped the orphanage and set off to find the witch and kill her.But the witch had already found her.Dying the same as her parents she was lost in the woods and now unable to fight when the witch whispered” Come a little closer…
The witch is know as the Lost One because she haunted Abigail for her natural beauty inside and out for Abigail’s pure heart she had wanted someone like Abigail to love her and when she found no one she was very upset then and killed her family after finding Abigail she felt sad and gave Abigail one wish and with her pure heart she wished she was 5 again and that the witch could have her life back and live next door to Abigail and that’s what happened but the witch learned and finally had a family so on a girl’s 5th birthday who is said to have a pure heart will have to do the same as Abigail and will have a chance to start over if they make the right wish they will live a happy life as they wished and if not the witch of the Lost One will ask them to come a little closer to live in a permanant destruction of life without pureness or the right to be a true girl as all should be as Abigail the fair queen of girls with a pure and true heart.
My tragic tale (not true :D)
I save my love elise from my evil tyrant of a brother. We where separated for a while because I had left the castle however I soon found her in Bowerstone Markets where I saved her yet again, she broke up with the man she was engaged to and I proposed. We then got married in a beautiful ceremony at Brightwall where we would buy a house and live together. Everything was going perfectly except the people next door kept arguing and most people hated me because I was a millionaire and was making everybody pay high rent and had to deal with high shop prices. We where very much in love with each other however and we where faithful (Or so I thought). We decided to get physical for the first time unprotected. That was when the problems started. Not only did I get an STD but also I had a black child even though neither of us where black. I was devastated and went next door where I learnt that the neighbours wanted a divorce. In my anger I wanted revenge so I married the woman next door and killed her husband. This just made things worse, we also had a house in Brightwall and soon both my wives where fighting with each other and wanted a divorce. I decided Elise had hurt me to badly. I killed her and our “child” was sent to the orphanage, I then bought a nice house in Millfields for my second and now only wife. I felt sorry for the child who had been sent to the orphanage so I adopted him (It wasn’t his fault after all). Finally after all this lying, cheating, murder, scandal and heartbreak I thought it was all over and we could finally be happy. I became best friends with our neighbours and finally felt as if I belonged. That was when tragedy struck one final time, mercenaries came and killed not only my best friend but also my wife. Now I am all alone and have realised that if I had not been so selfish and stolen Elise from that other man I would have been contempt with my life and could have found somebody else to settle down with and avoided the grief and heartache that has now passed.
“15 minutes” – Standing in front of the underground passages and heavy rain dripping loudly in the pavement and ready to take a part in a city’s ghost bus tour with about 10 to 15 people and excitement filled the atmosphere. I arrived in Edinburgh in the afternoon and went to different places zoo, museum, and took many pictures and at 4:00 pm I arrived at the Edinburgh castle and took a lot of pictures at exactly 7:00 pm I returned in to the bus and waited for the tour guide to arrive, after a few minutes he showed up and told us that we are going to the famous underground house that was rumored to be haunted, as we got of the bus my cellphone rang. It was mom she said that she’s worried because I’m not calling her. I said “Mom everything’s fine i’m safe and please call again later because it’s raining hard here and I need to go. Since birth up to now when I left home to study I was never close to another person other than my Mom so I will do everything for her. Then I said ” Mom I’m 18 now so you don’t have to concern yourself. Then she said “Okay son be safe and take care of yourself. Then I said that I’ll be safe even if you don’t remind me that. Then the phone went blurred and hanged “Damn signal” i said to myself. The I notice that I was the only one left in the entrance.“They must have started the tour without me while I was distracted on the phone,” I laughed talking out loud this time. “I’m sure I can catch up to them though,” I said entering the gates in front of me that lead to a flight of descending stone steps.
As I made my way down the 30 or so steps, I saw what looked like a distant gathering of people amongst dim lights and dust.
“That must be them,” I said speeding up my pace into a fast walk.
About 50 yards of fast walking down a narrow stone corridor, I was stopped dead in my tracks.
Stepping out from a room to my left stood the shadow of a 5ft woman.
To say I was terrified would be an understatement. My heart jumping into the back of my chest, the breath rushing from my lungs, I looked up at the figure in absolute panic..
“Calm down,” came a voice breaking what seemed like an eternity of terror and silence.
“Wh wh wh wh wh wh… who are you?” I asked stammering in shock.
“The names Alyssa Williams,” she replied stepping from the darkness to reveal herself.
A woman of about 40 years with long brown shaggy hair, piercing green eyes and a pale skin complexion, Alyssa stood before me blocking the way forward.
“You’ve been separated from the rest of them, haven’t you?” She asked.
“I just got held up outside on the phone and lost my concentration, so you could say that,” I replied with a laugh of realising she wasn’t some terrifying monster or ghostly apparition as first thought.
“It happens all too often. You’ve missed the first 15 minutes of the tour,” she said, “but it’s your lucky day.”
“My lucky day?” I asked bemused.
“Yeah, your lucky day,” she said again.
“How though?” I replied even more confused.
“The rain that flooded the graveyard above was just too much for the foundations of these old corridors to hold, and now all but you lay dead beneath the collapse of the ceiling. Give my kind regards to your mom for being of great help,” she said walking off back into the dark room she came from.
(I asked a friend in order to write this story so I can’t take all the credit sorry if u think it is lame pls. bear it with me)
I could imagine this that Cry is reading this.. :
Nails.
_______
When I was a child, I used to play with my friends. We were a happy bunch. We told different scary horrid stories.. The only story I didn’t for get was… The Lady That Was Scratching the door. It was a story about a woman who has long-ass nails. She was left by her husband… She was going crazy… She was locked in a mental asylum, she always screeched the doors with her nails, begging for someone to open the door. It gave me the creeps, It gave my chills to the spine.. it made me shiver in fear.. I hated being alone in my house.. but, I didn’t like having babysitters sit me.. One day, my parents went to a party. They called a babysitter, a babysitter with long nails…
When I was in my room.. All alone.. browsing some shit. The babysitter knocked if I was ok. I nodded with a fake smile on my face. I remembered the story.. her nails sent me shivers down my spine. Then, I heard screeching on my door. It was loud, painful in the ears.. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard…
Screech… SCREEECCHHH… SCREEEEECHHHHH….
It didn’t stop, when I opened the door. There was no one there… just… cold wind.. I thought it was just my babysitter pranking me. I sighed in relief.. I walked downstairs to see if the babysitter was still there, she was sitting on the couch and watching tv. i looked behind my door if there were scratches… there were none. I proceeded at what I was doing.. It was already 11 pm.. Parents haven’t arrived yet.. I was waiting for them.. The door downstairs opened.. Thinking that was my parents… The screeching sound continued.. it got more louder than before…. It was fast..
SCREEEECH SCREEEEECH SCREEEEEEEECH SCREEEEEEEECH
And then there was hitting on the door.. like someone begging for help..
DUN DUN DUN DUN.. SCREECH SCREECH SCREECH DUN…
I remained silent.. Afraid to move a muscle.. The hitting and screeching stopped.. I opened the door, trying to get my guts together.. Then I saw a lady… all in white.. grabbing my Babysitter’s golden hair… The babysitter was dead.. cold.. skin… her pupils.. her eyes open.. with only white.. the Lady was looking at me with a smile.. the lady had long nails.. So I closed the door quickly again..
Hoping that she would be gone.. I opened the door.. She disappeared out of nowhere… I was afraid to look back at my room… I looked from left to right.. She wasn’t there.. I was afraid to go downstairs.. I closed the door and went in my room..I remained silent.. my jaw shaking like an asshole… my body shivering.. my spine tingling..
I covered my ears… I heard my mom and dad opening the door, I ran like a pussy.. I hugged my dad with tears rolling down my face.. I looked up to his face. The lady’s face appeared… All along.. I was hugging the lady… I screamed….
…. I didn’t move a muscle.. I threw myself away from her.. she got closer and closer.. closer and closer.. closer.. closer.. closer.. And…
PAM….
Her ugly face dripping with blood appeared on my face… I screamed at it.. She strangled me with her hand… she held me up the air.. I tried to take it off.. I was struggling to breathe… Her nails almost puncturing my skin..
I woke up on bed.. sweating like a dog.. It turned out to be just a dream all along.. BUT NO…. She appeared at my face.. She was holding my dead body.. I was dead.. dead. DEAD.. DEAAAADD… DEAD ALL ALONG..
.. That’s all.. -hat’s off to you- -Bow- c:
(made by Anominity… I hate nails.. Eeeekkk..)
The Boy In The Garden by iwasdeadbeforeidied13.
My name is Riley Mitchel. This is a true story that hapened to me. All my freinds have had some sort of experience with the paranormal and this is mine.
I was staying at an old inn for the easter holidays. it had just got new owners and it seemed very pleasnt and relaxing. I booked into room 3 which had a lovely view of the garden out back. I got up early the next morning and looked out of the window. Standing there was a boy about 15. He had dark hair and eyes. He wore a red t-shirt and blue jeans but nothing on his feet. He smiled and waved at me and I smiled and waved back. Then he ran inside. When I went downstairs I expected to see him but he wasn’t there. I asked the landlord whether he’d seen the boy who was staying there. The land lord looked at me and said. “There are no boys staying here. Just you and the elderly couple in room 5.” I was confused but didn’t think much of it. It could have just been a dream.
The next day I woke up early again and once again I looked out of the window. Standing there was the boy smiling and waving wearing the exact same clothes. This time I didn’t wave back. He looked a little hurt and ran back inside. I went downstairs and told the man at the bar what I’d just saw. He gave me an odd look. “Well noones come in.” He informed me. “Actully no ones gone out either.” I was getting a little freaked out. Who was this boy? Where did he come from? That night I couldn’t sleep thinking about him. When it was round about midnight I heard a strangled voice calling “Mum help me. Mum mum.” Terified I refused to move from under the covers.
The next morning I didn’t look out of the window for fear of seeing the boy. It was raining so I had to postpone all my plans for the day. Round about lunch time a lady came in. We got chating and she told me she was the previous owner of the place and had lived there with her son. When she showed me a picture of him I nearly forgot to breathe. I recognised him immediately. He’s the boy who waved to me the first two nights I stayed here.” I cried. The woman shook her head. “It can’t be.”
“Why not?”
“Because Benji. My son is dead. He choked to death when we were still living here.” She smiled a small sad smile. “He was a very friendly boy. Always waved at the people staying in room 3 whenever they looked out the window.” I checked out that same day. I’m certain Benji isn’t an evil spirit or a vengeful spirit. But I didn’t feel comfortable knowing he was there. I haven’t ever been back to thei nn and I don’t want to go back. I don’t mind the dead as long as I’m a good distance from them.
Hope you liked it.
2nd story: The Cabin
(This story is purely fictional)
One night, a girl was left alone by her parents who was going to attend a dinner party. The girl then watched some extreme horror movies. When the girl decided to sleep, she went upstairs and undressed and put on her sleeping clothes and went to bed. Unaware, there was a man on a wooden cabin behind their house in the woods. As she undressed, he stared at her. The man kept looking until she went to sleep. He then sent his companion to break in the house. The girl’s stomach hurts, so she used the bathroom. When she was finished, she heard a voice saying, “I’ll be seeing you!” She thought her mind was just playing tricks on her, so she went to bed. Then, she heard the voice again, it got closer and it said: “Almost there. Just wait for the surprise!” She slept and when she woke up, she heard the door being scratched. She freaked out when she saw the knob starting to open. When the door opened, a man got in and put out his knife and started stabbing the poor girl to death. When the parents arrived, they saw that the house was so quiet. When they checked on their daughter, they saw the lifeless body of their beloved daughter. The face was so grotesque, almost demonic. They called the police when they saw a cabin and two men with a bloodied knife, and when the police arrived, the first group raided the cabin and the second one investigated the scene. The murderers escaped, but unfortunately, they were shot dead by a sniper. The police saw blood stains around the walls, as if she struggled. But what freaked them out is a bloody writing on the wall. It said: “Why did you not come home early mom?”
I love your stories SFK!!! This is my first time writing, so it might not be that good. s
The night before Christmas
Angel was in her pajamas sitting on the couch in the living room. It was five minutes until midnight, and she was anxiously waiting for Santa Claus. She dozed off around 1:00. She was awoken by the front door handle moving. Someone was trying to break in. Angel didn’t move a muscle. After about a minute, it stopped. Then she heard a soft mumbling noise coming from the chimney. She closed her eyes as something hit the ground. She peeked out of one eye and saw it was Santa. Something was different about him though. As he threw his sack on the ground, he smiled. Angel instantly knew what was wrong with him. He had at least eight rows of razor sharp teeth. His laugh was sinister. He left the living room and walked down the hallway towards Angel’s parents bedroom. She closed her eyes as tight as she could and eventually fell asleep.
The next morning, Christmas, she woke up and opened her presents under the tree. Then, she called for her mom and dad to come in there with her. She walked into their room to discover their remains tossed around the room. She started crying and called 911. She was terrified, and when the police got there, tears were streaming down her face. Two police officers came up to the door, but instantly ran away. Angel turned around and saw Santa with the razor sharp teeth. The last thing she did was scream before the room around her went black.
Chocolate Chip Cookie
This is my third story! (Hope you like this! It’s for creepy pasta)
This is a true story it happened to a friend of a friend of mine. Rex was a store guy.
He stocked, replaced shelves and even checked out the money register.Rex was helping out a few girls when an older man asked for help, Rex was very kind to the elderly so he said ‘yes’. He grabbed the old man’s bags and headed out of the store. Rex asked if he had a car or something but the man said: “no my car broke down, you don’t mind walking a few blocks do you son?” the man asked, “no sir “Rex replied with a tinkle of sweat going down his forehead. “Just a few more steps” said the old man. When they got there the old man gestured him to the living room to relax. He probably thought the old guy was so grateful he’d get a skate board or ‘motorcycle’! As Rex thought in his mind his stomach bellowed! He went over to the kitchen, and found himself some jar full of chocolate chip
Cookies! There was something weird about them the dark ‘icing’ looked like it got scratched off? Rex shrugged didn’t really matter. After all it’s a snack before dinner.
Couldn’t hurt having a few ‘cookies’ to keep the ‘blood sugar level’ from driving him nuts! So he took a few and ate them but then he craved for MORE!! He couldn’t help himself from wolfing the cookies DOWN! But then the jar was empty…oops this belonged to the old man! Then the old man came back from his room.Rex apologized to him “sir Im so sorry I got hungry and ate those ‘chocolate cookies’!” he said feeling guilty. The old man gave a quirky smile” that’s ok my boy! I don’t have teeth or even false ones! All I can do is lick the ‘dark icing’ off them!” Rex looked at the jar and turned pale… He nearly through up!
But eh it’s a true story! Rex went back to the store to continue his work.
But he’ll never go near the ‘a chocolate cookie’ especially from elderly men ever again!
Hope you all like it! And MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!
Anne’s your story is spooky! I like it(:
Fresh Meat
One night, when a man was going to have a lunch break, he heard a strange noise from the hallway. It said, “Fresh Meat, fresh MEAT!” The man quickened his pace and ran but reached a dead end. The noise got closer and closer, and the man was so scared he ran again. With bravery, he went out to see what was happening. He saw a delivery man holding a box with fresh beef. The man came in and actually said, “Fresh meat, who ordered fresh meat?” The man let out a sigh of relief and shouted, I ordered the meat! I ordered the meat!
“The dance doesn’t end ‘til one, and after we might be going to a friend’s house,” said Mrs. Burke, screwing a dangly earring into her earlobe. “If Alyssa gets hungry, there’s ice cream in the fridge. She’ll tell you where the other snacks in the kitchen are.” At this, eight-year-old Alyssa perked up from her seat at the couch.
“Is there an official bedtime?” I inquired.
“Yes,” answered Uncle Ross, shrugging on his tuxedo jacket. “Do you want the real one, or the one you’re going to pin an extra hour onto to pamper her?”
“Alyssa goes to bed at ten o’ clock. Please read her a bedtime story from one of her bookshelves. She’ll pick.” Mrs. Burke turned away from me, getting her clutch from the kitchen table. Her stiff blond curls wafted the sour smell of her hairspray towards me. When she turned back around, she continued her instructions while I stared intently at her heavily made-up face. She tried so desperately to look young and pretty.
“Don’t open the door to anyone unless it’s us. My cell number’s programmed into the house phone; in a real emergency you’d better call 911.”
Lord, she was acting as if this the first time I’d been left home alone, when I’d been babysitting my cousins for years.
“Give the girl a break, Jen,” protested Uncle Ross, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders. Mrs. Burke moved away from him and went to unlock the front door, leaving me alone with Uncle Ross. “Be good,” he said. “Go to bed at a reasonable time.”
“Got it,” I said, herding him towards the door. He reached out to ruffle my hair and followed his wife outside. “Bye,” I called out, but only Uncle Ross waved back.
I watched the progress of the Italian sports car out from the window. Once the car vanished from my view, I loosened the curtains from the tiebacks and drew the flowery fabric over the window. With a sigh, I turned away from the window and eyed the rest of the room.
It was pristine. The carpet was a blushing pink, with rose-shaped rugs in a deeper hue artistically strewn across the floor. The kitchen table was made of dark polished wood with sharp edges and a glass tabletop. I could faintly see the reflection of the vase of artificial flowers that rested on the table. Next to the door, a shiny glass cabinet resided, full of dolls with plaited hair and dimpled smiles. Their weirdly sinister faces freaked me out, but I knew from Mrs. Burke’s rants that they were very valuable collector’s items.
The house was immaculate. It was perfect. It was…unnatural, to be honest. The only magazines I could see were glossy and arranged in neat piles on top of the cabinet with the dolls in it, looking as if no one had ever thumbed through them in their life-completely different from my house, where all the magazines were dog-eared and crumpled. I could only remember one instance of Mrs. Burke touching her magazines-when she’d made my little sister put her plate on top of one when we sat at the kitchen table for tea, on one of the few times we’d been over. She’d put the magazine under my sister’s plate so Megan wouldn’t spill crumbs onto the shiny table, leaving the eleven-year-old humiliated.
“Leslie?” came Alyssa’s high-pitched voice from the next room. “Yeah, coming,” I called back while walking towards her room. Her little face looked up at me anxiously from the flowered armchair she was sitting on. Mrs. Burke certainly had a thing for flowers.
Alyssa was fingering her long brown plaits. They were tied up incredibly neatly, without a single hair out of place. They reminded me of the dolls in the cabinet. “Do you want to play with me?” Alyssa asked, almost shyly. I’d planned on watching T.V. and texting my boyfriend, but…“I guess it’s okay to play for a while,” I told her, and she jumped down from the armchair eagerly. “What do you wanna play?” I asked.
“Let’s make bracelets,” Alyssa suggested. Well, that was an odd request, but I nodded and watched as she fetched a shiny white ceramic jar filled with beads. The shininess of this house was starting to grate. She sat down carefully onto one of the rugs on the floor and poured the beads into her fingers. Kneeling beside her, I picked up a silky thread from the tin. “You can make a purple one,” Alyssa told me. As she pointed out the purple beads, my eyes were drawn to her fingers. Or, her fingertips.
Each and every fingernail had been brutally cut back.
“Alyssa! What happened to your nails?!”
She quickly curled her fingers into a fist, hiding the stubs. My loud voice had startled her, as if she was a little mouse. I reached out and gently held her little fist in my hand, rubbing her fingers until she unfurled her fist. Each nail was a tiny sliver, with the surrounding skin a bright, painful pink.
“Alyssa? Who cut your nails?” I asked, kindly but my voice firm. I had a feeling that I already knew the answer.
She ducked her head, staring at her hand in my lap. “I did.”
I know a lie when I see one. “Did your mother cut your nails?”
Her blue eyes filled with tears. “Yes,” she whispered.
Appalled, I looked down at her brutally cut nails. “Why-”
“I had art at my school and I got the paint in my fingernails so mommy said I was an untidy disgrace and I shouldn’t have fingernails if I can’t keep them clean and she cut them off.”
“What else did she do to you?” My voice was suddenly brusque. I had to know if anything worse was happening in this household. The unnatural perfection of the house, the fingernails…was Mrs. Burke even sane?
“Nothing. She doesn’t do anything to me. My mommy is the kindest prettiest mommy in the world.”
“Alyssa! Tell me the truth!”
She flinched. Her lips started quivering. “Oh no, Allie, don’t cry. If you do then your tears will fall on your dress and it’ll get dirty-”
Like I’d suspected, this tactic worked better than anything else I could’ve said. Alyssa wiped her eyes carefully. “Alyssa, don’t worry-I won’t ever tell anyone, I swear…”
I watch as she eyes me suspiciously. “Alyssa. Did she cut your toenails like that too?”
Her head shakes, jerkily, and so I say, “Alyssa, show me your toes.”
All of a sudden, Alyssa threw her head back in a loud scream while tugging off her shoes and socks. Her bloody sock lands in my lap as she howls, “I don’t have any!”
“Earliest Memories”
When I was in high school, I was assigned to an “Earliest Memories” sort-of project. Since I had a horrible memory, I had a very hard time with this project.
One day, I was looking through the attic for anything that could help me. I found a box marked “Max’s Memories” that was layered with dust, so I managed to drag it down and open the box. Inside was a diary, and a few pictures. I thought none of this would help me, but I was proved wrong when I flipped through the diary. I realized this was from middle school, and I knew it would pass me so I packed it in my backpack. I decided to gaze through the pictures since it could help me get extra credit.
Most of them were from middle school as I suspected. They contained me and a girl that I didn’t recognize. She had long blonde hair, jade green eyes, and small dimples when she smiled. I looked on the back of the picture for my mom’s messy cursive that could hint anything about who she was. It only said, “Max and Lissa Smith.”
Since I had no recollections of her, I wanted to look her name up. When I did, an article about her popped up. As I read it, my stomach churned and I felt sick to my stomach. Memories of her rushed back to me, and I finally knew her she was.
I got the diary out and flipped to the last few pages. In my handwriting, I read:
I feel so horrible. How could I let this happen? Lissa was my best friend and now she’s dead, thanks to me. I spent last night crying, and I am shaken up super bad. I don’t know what to do next. I’m honestly going crazy.
I only read that paragraph, and then I gazed at a drawing at the bottom of the page. I sickened me more. It was a picture of a girl hanging herself.
A flashback occurred to me. I was twelve years old, and me and Lissa were walking in the hallways of our middle school. Glances sharp as daggers were directed at Lissa, and her face indicated her anxiety was growing. I tried my best to comfort her, but she shook her head with tears coming down her face. People rudely pointed and laughed at her, and I was so mad at them. My other friends who were the “cool group” in middle school made some insults at her. They then asked me to join them for lunch. I agreed, since I wanted to be popular like them.
I left Lissa alone the rest of the day. My friends progressed to make her feel as horrible as possible, and I just laughed with them, hoping I was cool.
The next day, I had learned that Lissa hung herself. I started crying, which resulted in me writing in my diary.
Snapping back to reality, I felt tears come down my face. I heard laughing behind me, and I turned around.
Lissa was smiling evilly at me. “You left me alone to go through all that. Now it’s time to repay me . . .”
A group of boys were sitting around the local cemetery talking about ghosts and other things, trying to scare each other.
“Didja here ’bout the haunted house ’round the block?” asked one.
“Naw. You don’ believe in that, do ya’?”
“Don’ yew?” A third boy looked on, confused.
“Whatcha talkin’ ’bout?”
“The haunted house! Dontcha know?” said the first.
“Naw. I jus’ got here. Y’all know that!” said the third, and a fourth explained.
“In that big ol’ mansion ’round over there-” the boy pointed off in a random direction. “- there used to live a woman and her baby. Her husband, well, ‘e wus dead as he cud be, ‘e wus. He died inna war, ‘e did. That woman, she wus sad, but she kept care of that ‘lil baby. Well, one day, that baby got sick! Got the flu, or somethin’. An’ that baby died too. She wus so sad that she killed ‘erself inna fire in the fireplace.” He paused to take a swig from the bottle he was holding. “Ever’one knows that if ya’ go an’ spend the night, she’ll kill ya’!” The boys all shuddered, except for the previously confused one.
“I ain’t ‘fraid uv a ghost!” He said. The other boys frowned. One spoke up.
“I’ll pay ya’ twenty bucks to spend the night. Betcha yew won’t!” He smirked at the other boy.
“Yeah, I will! I told ja, I ain’t ‘fraid!”
So that night, the boy packed up all the things he would need to spend the night in the supposedly haunted house. The other boys were already there. They watched him go in, then left.
The boy crept through the house. It was drafty and cold, as well as dark and gloomy. He came upon a room with a couch across from a fireplace. He was reluctant to even step into the room, but he was cold and tired, so he lay down on the couch and fell into a restless sleep.
In the early hours of morning it started to storm. At six in the morning it was as dark as it had been at midnight, and by seven, it was even darker. The boy woke up. He looked around, momentarily forgetting where he was. He leaned into the warmth of the crackling fire. Suddenly, it turned white and silver. The figure of a beautiful woman was standing before him. On her face was a look of intense grief.
His friends were outside, waiting for him to come out. They heard him scream and, after a moment of hesitation, ran in to find him. They searched the whole house, but couldn’t find him. His things were gone and the fire place was clean; there were no ashes.
The police searched and searched, but they couldn’t find him.
Years later at their high school reunion, when they had just forgotten about that night, they were all walking down at the town square when they saw something that they would surely never forget; where there was usually a flag, instead hung the flattened body of their childhood friend…
The phone call.
All of the “Phone Call” stories have are usually the same. But not this one.
Three friends were in a bedroom. Tori, Esther and Victoria. The three friends were like sisters. They had sleepier almost every weekend. They blocked out everyone except each other. One weekend on October 18 at 8:36 p.m. Esther went downstairs to get a knife to cut the cake Tori’s mother fixed for them. Tori and Victoria ran an hid in the walk-in closet. When Esther came back up the wooden stairs and back into Tori’s bedroom, Tori and Victoria quickly opened the door and scared Esther. In shock Esther accidentally stabbed herself in the stomach. The two girls in shock ran down stairs to get Tori’s mother. When she came upstairs she bent down next to Esther and cried. They called 911 because they could still see Esther’s stomach go up and down slightly, but the doctors knew noting could save her. The two girls had to spend two years knowing Esther’s death was their fault. The same day at exactly the same time and the same second they revived a phone call. The caller ID said “BFF” and Tori suddenly remembered that is what she put Esther under in her caller ID. But, Esther was dead and the two girls got frightened. Tori picked up the phone. H-h-h-h-hello? She heard Esther’s uplifting voice. “Tori” she said. “Esther ?!?” Said Tori in shock. She covered up the speaker and said to Victoria “Maybe she isn’t dead”. She heard something coming from the phone. “Tori” said Esther. “Yes?”, said Tori. “Look out the window”, said Esther. Tori slowly pulled open the curtains. She saw Esther standing in the driveway, holding the same knife she had been killed with.
The walk home
On Halloween night, I was walking home with my friend from trick or treating. We passed this house with really scary decorations with a bunch of people out front. They all had these creepy masks on and were whispering to each other. We kept walking. Nicky said, “That house was really creepy! What was with all those people in the yard?” I answered, “I don’t know. Maybe there was a party there and theywere leaving.” Suddenly,I noticed that some one that was in the front of that house was following us. He had a mask that lokked like the devil. We started walking faster when another person appeared. He had a zombie mask on. My friend and I turned the corner, and when the people did, I realized there were more. Finally there were around 40 people following us with all kinds of horrible undescribable masks on. We started running, and they just kept following us. We finally got to my house, ran inside, and shut he door. Nicky decided to stay over at my house because she didn’t want to go outside with the creeps. The next morning I went outside and non one was there, so I got the newspaper. When I sat down to read it, I was horrified at the leading story:
COUPLE BRUTALLY MURDERED
Kate and Greg Simmons were murdered brutally outside their house last night.
That is all I could read because Kate and Greg Simmons were my parents.
After the funeral, I moved in with Nicky.
We will never trick or treat again.
Here’s another story I came up with. P.S. Thanks for posting my other story!:
Amnesia
Chloe Thompson was a high school senior and a real klutz. She was always getting into accidents, like slipping in the hallway and walking into locker doors. But one Wednesday afternoon, Chloe was in a rush to get to algebra class and had to take the stairs down two floors to get there. But as she went down the stairs, she slipped and fell down the stairs, hitting her head and knocking herself unconscious. When Chloe woke up, she was lying on a large soft bed, with a thick quilt over her and a wet washcloth on her forehead. She looked over and saw a small table by the bed with a glass of water on it. Suddenly, a young man with brown hair and blue eyes walked in the room, carrying a tray with pancakes and eggs on it. “Hi, honey. I’m glad that you finally woke up. You took quite a nasty fall.” The man said as he set the tray on Chloe’s bed. “Who are you? Where am I?” Chloe asked, confused. She had barely any idea what had happened, other than the fall. “Oh, that must’ve been a really bad fall. I’m your father, and you’re home.” The man said, gingerly patting Chloe’s head. Slowly, Chloe realized how starving she was, having not eaten in two hours. So she took the fork on the tray, stabbed a piece of pancake, and started chewing it. But as she swallowed the food, Chloe started feeling weird. As she looked at the man, his face contorted into a sinister smile. As Chloe started to black out, the man got close to her face and said, “You should be more careful, dear.”
Hope you like it!