- KANDY K0rN
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I have the creepiest true story ever. It could be made into a horror movie it's so scary. I was scarred -blam!-less. I thought I was going to die a cultist, cannibal death.
When I was 14 I used to work on a farm in Sannger, California. It was my first job, but all I really did was drive tractors and trucks and stuff like that around. Sometimes I helped in the feilds, I did small favors, you get the picture. This was a seriously big farm right? Huge, about twice the size of the size of the farm from the movie Signs. In the middle of this farm was a big country style house, and this was a seriously big house. It was built in 1890, and it looked like it. Mind you, it was well kept and nice and clean, but you could tell it was old, seriously old. It had long narrow hallways and wooden floors and a terrible squeaking problem. Sometimes I was home alone and the house would just squeak. Nobody was inside, but it being an old house, it did this. The big problem was that it wouldnt just sqeak and be done with it. The house was in the shape of a big U. You could be sitting in one end of the house and the other side of the house would sqeak. The sound would work it's way through and it would sound like somebody was walking towards you. Nothing actually happened, but it was a bit unnerving. Take this for example:
One night I was all alone in this big house. I was working on the computer on my desk. The room I was in had sliding glass door that looked out on the land. Keep in mind it was just land, no trees, no road, no cornfields, just plain, flat land as far as the eye could see. And of course, this was at night, so I could only see as far as the light from the lamp on the porch would go. You just get this feeling. It makes you wonder whats beyond that light. You can only see about 10 feet, but there could be someone beyond that 10 feet, right outside the reach of the light. Your basically in a fishbowl. With that light on, someone could could see you a mile away. It just gets creepy. But I only tell you this to set the mood for the real story. This is where it starts:
The family that bought this house were fairly old. They had bought this house about 30 years prior to this story. They knew virtualy nothing about the previous owner. We don't know if he was the one or if he even had anything to do with this, but it's still suspicious. Anyway, odd stuff had been happening around that added to the creepieness of this house. Plates, Pans, Forks, Knives, Spoons, Pots, they went missing from time to time. notice a resembalance between those objects? Theyre all eating utencils. This didnt bother us this much, it was a big house, someone could have misplaced those objects right? Wrong. They were stolen as it turns out. But we didn't know that. Then one day around 4:00 as all the workers are leaving one comes up to my grandpa, who owns the farm, and says "There was a guy out in the cornfields today". My grandpa asks what he looked like and the worker says he didn't know, he was just tall. He had apparently vanished before they could get a good look at him. We shrugged it off. The next day I walked out to the front yard to feed the animals, and right on the porch, there was a cockroach impaled by one of our forks. This made me nervous, but I mostly ignored it. A few weeks went by and nothing happened. But then we decided to clean out the sheds and barns, stuff like that. We found something nasty. We had barncats, we didn't buy them, they were either already there or they had shown up. We left a heater up and put a big bucket of food and water in, mostly they didn't need it, the mice they cought were fine for them. When we were cleaning the barn out one of my friends moved a few peices of wood and found a gruesome sight. A barncat, crucified. It was nailed to a board on all fours and it's insides were torn out and gone, like it had been eaten. The next day we found another fork on our porch, this time with a slab of meat. After this we began to refer to the creep as "The Cannibal". This was the last we heard of whatever it was for a while. Summer ended and we figured that whoever it was had gone away. Wrong. Next summer in June we were all sitting on the porch, all was well. No more forks were missing, we had all forgotten about it. My friends and I were sititng on the deck having a barbacue when all of a sudden we heard a voice. It slowly whispered all of our names and then stopped. It had come from the corn fields. We heard them rustle as if the guy was moving away. Some of my friends were much older than me and therefore had a gun lisence. My friend Jack, who was as Texan and redneck as you could be, ran inside and grabbed his 12-Guage Shotgun. He ran into the fields with it and came back an hour later. He found nothing. This scarred us because the guy knew our names. This was utterly creepy. Our silverware was vanishing, and now he knew who we were. He had obviously been in our house before. We called the police and they said they would keep a look out, and they probably meant it, but the problem was, aside from the silverware, we had no proof he had been in our house. The guy was very elusive and he knew it. Still, we went back to our daily lives. A week later, Jack was driving back to the house with me in the car. It was a long dirt road that we were on, surrounded by fields on both sides. Suddenly, we see a figure about 100 ft ahead of us. We didn't recognize him, but we could tell he was leering at us. Jack, being Jack, floors it. The car flys at this guy, but he dives into the fields. We didn't see him until two weeks later. One night, I was home alone with my grandfather when he asks me to go get the trucks and put them in the garage. Everyone else was at a big dinner a few miles out of town. It's just me and my grandfather. The people don't come back until midnight or so. I go out, walk over to truck #1 and wait for it to warm up. After five muinets or so it was finally good to go, I get in, put the key into the ignition, and start to drive back. Thats when I saw him. He was standing in the middle of the road, jeering at me. He was tall and pale as hell with long black hair. If I was smarter and older I would have floored it, I could have easily hit him, but instead, I put it in reverse, which jammed the car up. I was stuck. I locked the doors and hid my face in my hands. After two minuets I was finally brave enough to look up. HE WAS RIGHT THERE IN THE WINDOW, LOOKING IN AND SMILING AT ME!!! I put my face in my hands again and reached up and turned the ignition. It worked. I drove like hell back to the house, at which point some people had started to get back from dinner. I told them what happened and they all went dead serious. It was like hardcore Texas Redneck rampage or something. They all grabbed their shotguns and trucks and went out searching for hours. I would have found it cool if I hadent been scarred out of my mind. They found nothing. We never really heard anything of him after that. Sometimes in the summer the workers would say that they saw a guy in the fields, but we saw nothing more of him. Nothing else went missing, no other cats were mauled, nothing. However even when I was seventeen and I went over to my friends house a few miles away from the farm and we went swimming at night, it always felt like we were being watched. We were being watched. The cannibal never really went away.
That's it. Beat that!
[Edited on 04.30.2008 8:13 AM PDT]