White Bear

The White Bear is a creepy story written by a member of this website named writer123 in collaboration with ScaryForKids. It’s about a boy who has a teddy bear that he loves dearly. Things begin to go wrong when a bully at school starts vandalizing the bear.

I was 8 years old when I got the white bear for Christmas. I can still remember opening the present and seeing the teddy bear lying inside. I couldn’t have been happier. I named him Chester and I would never go anywhere without him. We were inseparable. I would even take him to school with me.

Whenever I brought Chester to school, everyone in my class would point at me and make fun of me. They made rude comments about my teddy bear and called me names. I didn’t pay any attention to their cruel remarks.

One day, during art class, I was painting a picture. Chester was sitting on the table beside me. Suddenly, Jeremy Valentine, the class bully, came over and grabbed my white bear. Before I could snatch Chester back, Jeremy took a pair of scissors and snipped Chester’s head off.

When the teacher saw this, she grabbed Jeremy by the arm and took him to the principal’s office. I picked up Chester’s body and his severed head and held them to my chest, crying like a baby. When I got home, I showed my mom what had happened to my beloved teddy. She said she would sew him back together the next day.

That night, I was lying in bed when, all of a sudden, I felt something jump onto my chest. When I opened my eyes, I saw Chester lying on my chest. His head was back on and he looked as good as new. I thought my mom must have sewed him back together and put him into bed with me as a surprise. I hugged Chester and held him close to me as I fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, when I woke up, I felt a soreness in my arms. When I looked down, I saw a lot of tiny bite marks on my arms. Then, I glanced at Chester and noticed that he had some red stuff on his mouth. I knew that I couldn’t tell my mom, since she would never believe me, so I just put on a sweater to hide the marks, stuffed Chester in my backpack and hurried to get ready for school.

When I got to my classroom, I took Chester out of my bag, and put him on my desk as usual. During class, I got up to go sharpen my pencil. When I got back, I saw that one of Chester’s button eyes had been torn off. I looked at Jeremy, who sat on the other side of the classroom, and saw him grinning at me. I knew he was the culprit, but I had no proof.

When I got home, I told mom about the incident and she said she would fix the white bear’s eye. She also told me she was going to call Jeremy’s parents and have a word with them about their son’s bad behavior.

That night, I was getting ready for bed when I heard someone say, “Psssst!”

I was shocked and turned around in fright. There was nobody there. All I saw was Chester sitting on my bed. I thought I had left him downstairs. I also noticed that he had his eye back. Then, his mouth opened and spoke to me.

“Hey, Leo! I need to tell you something!” he growled.

I stared at him in horror. I thought I was going insane.

“Jeremy’s parents won’t punish him harshly enough for what he has done,” said Chester. “We need to give him the punishment he rightfully deserves! I already have a plan, but I need your help. Will you help me, Leo?”

Reluctantly, I agreed and Chester started explaining his plan. When I heard it, I was shocked. But I loved Chester so much, I decided to go along with his evil plan.

After my mom went to sleep, Chester stole a knife from the kitchen and we headed for Jeremy’s house. Chester led the way. When we got there, we snuck in through the back door and tip-toed upstairs to Jeremy’s bedroom. Inside, we found Jeremy was sound asleep in his bed.

As I lingered there in the darkness, looking down at him, I started having second thoughts about what I was doing, but I couldn’t back out. Chester wouldn’t allow it.

I stood in the doorway, trembling as I watched Chester take out the knife. The white bear walked calmly over to Jeremy’s bed and in one swift motion, slit the boy’s throat. He didn’t even have a chance to scream. I covered my eyes, unable to look at the horrible sight.

After a while, I peeked out through my fingers and saw that Chester was sawing Jeremy’s head off. Then, he took the knife and poked out his right eye. After that, Chester started chuckling like a maniac. He held up Jeremy’s severed head triumphantly. I started crying.

“Don’t be scared, Leo!” he growled. “I did this because you’re my bestest friend! I love you!”

“I love you too, Chester,” I whispered.

After that, Chester opened the window and told me to climb out.

“Be careful,” he said. “Don’t leave any fingerprints.”

We snuck out of the house and Chester left Jeremy’s head in the driveway for his parents to find. We went home and got into bed. Chester tucked me in and sat beside me until I fell asleep.

The next morning, as my mother was preparing breakfast, I saw a news report on TV about Jeremy’s murder. As I listened to the gruesome details, I glanced over at Chester. There was an evil grin on his face. I felt sick to my stomach and couldn’t eat a thing.

I didn’t want to take Chester to school with me, but when my mom’s back was turned, he hopped into my backpack. I didn’t have a choice. I had to ditch him. I headed towards the bus stop and on the way, I spotted a garbage can. As quick as I could, I tossed the backpack into the trash, slammed down the lid and ran away.

That evening, when I came home from school, I saw that the trash collectors had taken away the garbage. Chester had been taken with it. I thought I had gotten rid of Chester for good.

Years later, I left school and went to college. There, I met the love of my life, Donna Hartman, and after graduation we got married and moved in together.

One night, I was sitting in the living room, reading a book while Donna was cooking dinner. Suddenly, I heard a blood-curdling scream coming from the kitchen. I jumped out of my chair and rushed out to see what was wrong.

As soon as I entered the kitchen, I screamed in horror. Donna’s body was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Her severed head was sitting in the frying pan and her right eye had been poked out.

Then, I saw Chester standing on the kitchen table, a bloody knife clutched tightly in his furry hand.

“You shouldn’t have crossed me, Leo,” he growled. “Now you’ve made me angry… and you know how a white bear acts when he’s angry…”

Before I had a chance to react, Chester jumped at me and tried to stab me in the face. I managed to dodge him and he stabbed the kitchen cabinet instead. The knife got stuck in the wood and Chester began struggling desperately to remove it.

Quickly, I opened a drawer and grabbed the first thing I could find… a saucepan. I swung the metal saucepan as hard as I could and struck Chester over the head. For a moment, he was stunned. Then, he leaped on top of me and his furry paws grabbed for my throat. He began choking me, and I struggled to push him off.

I pulled the knife out of the kitchen cabinet and began stabbing him, but it was no use. The blade just went through his stuffing. It didn’t hurt him at all. Then, Chester picked up a cheese grater and tried to grate my face off. I dropped the knife.

My hands searched desperately for something I could use as a weapon. I grabbed a soup ladle and began beating him ferociously over the head with it. Then, I picked up a dinner plate and broke it over his head. He released me from his grip and I fled out the front door and ran to the safety of a neighbor’s house.

I called the police and told them an intruder had broken into my house and murdered my wife. A few minutes later, several police cars came speeding down the street and screeched to a halt outside my driveway.

The officers emerged from their cars with their guns drawn and wntered my house. They searched it from top to bottom, but found no sign of an intruder. After securing the scene, they began questioning me and that’s when everything started to go wrong.

I tried to explain what had happened, but I was so distraught that all that came out was gibberish. They took me to the hospital and put me under armed guard. When I managed to calm down, I tried to tell them that my childhood teddy bear had returned, seeking revenge, and had decapitated my wife but they just didn’t believe a word I said.

Chester was long gone and my fingerprints were all over the murder weapon. I was arrested and charged with the murder of my wife. At the trial, I tried to mount a defence, but that’s hard to do when you’re trying to convince a jury that the real killer is a teddy bear.

They found me guilty of murder in the first degree and sentenced me to life in prison without the possibility of parole. I will never be set free and the only comfort I have is that I’m finally safe from that evil white bear.