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  • Subject: Short, Scary Stories!
Subject: Short, Scary Stories!

Member since 9/26/2004. New account had to be created :(

There is a certain road near the Everglades in Florida, which, if you drive down it alone in the rain, day or night, you will suddenly have a very real feeling of being completely lost. Your radio will turn to static, your CDs will skip, and your tapes will play slower than normal. If you try to find a map in your car, it will have mysteriously vanished. If you continue forward down the road for more than a minute, you will find that you can’t turn around, and everything behind you is pitch dark. There are no other roads and no other cars. Continuing down the road, you will come upon a fork with no signposts. In the middle of the fork, there will be a man, covered head to foot in various pieces of clothing. The only skin visible will be around his eyes, which will be bright green. You must get out of your car, but do not turn it off or close the door after you. You must approach the man, but stop at least three feet away. You must stand there silently, waiting for him to speak first. If you break the silence first, you will find yourself back on a main road, but you will die within 24 hours. If he speaks first, he will ask you what you require. Tell him that you need to know which road will take you to your destination. He will then ask you what you will offer him in exchange for his assistance.

If you offer him a ride, he and your car will disappear, and you will become the new guardian of the crossroad. If you offer him an umbrella, he will take it and stab you through the chest. If you offer him your love, he will take your heart still beating from your chest and eat it, condemning you to walk the earth without a heart, insane from the pain and loss. You must offer him your loyalty and kneel before him. If you do this, he will close his eyes and bow in return, extending a hand to whichever path will lead you back to safety. If you try to run from him, you will be dead before you reach your car, and your body will be found back in your car in some random location.

  • 08.03.2008 10:58 AM PDT

Dance, Ye merry fools, Dance. For ye doth not know it yet, but thee tis about to be PWNT at Halo 3 FTW.

Posted by: GOWSam
A young woman was sleeping in her bed, and it was her first day of moving into the new house. It was her first time she was living alone. At night, she couldn't get to sleep - uncomofrtable in the new bedroom - and sat their awake. She was relaxed by the thought of her pet dog lying under the bed, so she fell back to sleep. Suddenly, she was woken by a dripping sound. She became worried, so threw her hand under the bed to recieve a reasurring lick from her pet dog. After her hand was licked, she got up and went to the bathroom. 'Ugh, i left the tap on!' she cursed, and turned the nozzle on the tap around.

She went back to bed, and fell back to sleep. She was suddenly awoken again by a crashing sound of water. She stuck her hand under the bed, recieved a lick, and went into the bathroom again. The shower had turned on, so she switched it off - confused - and walked back to bed...now irritated and tired. She fell back to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She was awoken by a thundering sound outside, and harsh rain beating the windows. She ignored it, until she felt cold droplets of water hitting her face - and opposite her bedroom she noticed the bathroom window was open. She got the lick from her dog, and went into the bathroom to close the window. She tried the switch - it didn't work.

So she stumbled into the pitch-black room, and closed the window. Sighing, she looked towards the wall - as a strange smell was coming from it. Suddenly, lightning filled the room - and the girl saw her pet dog dead on the floor, and in blood written on the wall read: 'Humans can lick too'

The police found the dead body of a 20 year old woman the next day...
more scarier when there is a dripping from the bathroom, puts her hand down, it's licked, and in the morning, goes to turn off the tap, finds dead, strung out dog and sticky note, etc. etc. etc.

  • 08.03.2008 11:03 AM PDT

Dance, Ye merry fools, Dance. For ye doth not know it yet, but thee tis about to be PWNT at Halo 3 FTW.

Posted by: SinfulEnd
Posted by: YoungFastSnip3r
The Intruder


My friend's sister frequently babysat. One night, she was watching three kids, whose parents were going to be out until about 2:00am. She fed the kids and then they watched some movies. Around 8:00pm, she put the two-year-old to bed. At 8:30, she put the four-year-old to bed and at 9:00, the eight-year old.



She was still hungry so she went back downstairs to make herself a sandwich. When she was almost done, she heard the eight-year-old crying and calling her name. She went upstairs to see what was wrong. When she got up there, the child said she was cold, so the babysitter looked around for another blanket.



As she was doing that, she noticed that the window was open. She thought she had closed all of them but didn't think anything else of it. She closed the window, gave the little girl another blanket, and checked the other windows in the other two children's rooms to make sure they were secure, and then went back downstairs.



When she went back to the kitchen, she noticed that her sandwich was gone. She just brushed it off and blamed it on the dog. She made herself another sandwich. Again, she heard crying, but this time it was the four-year-old. She went to his room, and he too said he was cold. She noticed the window was open again. She was worried this time because she knew she had locked it. She didn't want to scare the child so she just shut and locked it.



She returned downstairs and turned on the alarm system. When she went back to the kitchen, she discovered that her second sandwich was gone. She was really worried so she decided to call the cops. When she told them that her sandwiches were disappearing, they thought she was crazy. She then told them about the windows opening repeatedly and they said it was probably just the kids doing it. After she hung up, she made herself a third sandwich.



She soon heard the two-year-old crying and went up to see what was wrong. Her window was also open. At this point, she was very frightened, so she gathered all of the kids, the cordless phone, and took them into a pantry closet in the kitchen. She called the police again, saying that she was really scared because someone keeps opening the windows and stealing her sandwiches -- and it's not the kids. They told her not to be worried, that they would be over in a few minutes to check it out.



She hung up the phone and held onto the kids tightly. A few minutes later, she heard a noise in the kitchen, and saw the knob turning on the pantry door. She was about ready to scream when a cop opened the door. She asked why they came so fast. He had a worried look on his face and told them to get out of the house. He then told her that on the phone, he heard a double click.


Took me a second to get it.


i dont get it some1 plz explain...

sorry for the double post...
The guy who was stealing sandwiches and opening windows was listening on another phone, and when the aunt or whatever hung up, so did the murderer, creating two click sounds that are made to signal that the other person has hung up, so, the cops knew someone else was in teh howze.

  • 08.03.2008 11:09 AM PDT

Member since 9/26/2004. New account had to be created :(

Creepy stuff. Not stories, but true, damned creepy stuff.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bloop
The Bloop sound at normal speed.

Slow Down, Unidentified Sound.


Edit: The Bloop in REAL TIME.

You may need to turn up your volume to hear the real time version.

God damn it is creepy.

[Edited on 08.03.2008 11:15 AM PDT]

  • 08.03.2008 11:09 AM PDT
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  • Exalted Legendary Member

Posted by: g english
Sock that ni­gger in the balls.

In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling "realistic" baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the "rocking motion" advertised to calm it down wouldn't work, and you couldn't get it to stop without shaking it. Eventually when it started crying the parent would have to beat it, and the beatings and thrashings would have to get harder and harder to get it to be quiet. The only thing that seemed to shut the baby doll up permanently was the bash its head against the wall to destroy whatever mechanism triggered the crying. On more than one occasion though, neighbors called the authorities to report child abuse, and when the police arrived they found the bloody remains of infants smeared across the walls and the floor. In most cases the mother couldn't understand why the police were there, she just "got rid of the stupid doll" as she rocked a baby-shaped bundle in her arms.

  • 08.03.2008 11:20 AM PDT
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  • Exalted Legendary Member

Posted by: g english
Sock that ni­gger in the balls.

A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed. The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye.

What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to. This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn’t make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.

At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and she said, "Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red."

  • 08.03.2008 11:30 AM PDT
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Posted by: g english
Sock that ni­gger in the balls.

A young girl is left home alone with only her dog to protect her. When night approaches, she locks all the doors and tries to lock all the windows but one won't close.

She decides to leave it unlocked and goes to bed. Her dog takes its customary place under her bed.

In the deep of night she awakens to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The girl is too scared to go check so she reaches her hand under the bed. She feels a reassuring lick from her dog and falls back to sleep. She reawakens to the dripping sound, reaches her hand down to the dog where she feels the reassuring lick and falls back to sleep. Once more she awakens to the dripping sound. She reaches her hand down and feels the lick of her dog.

Now curious about the dripping sound, she gets up and slowly walks towards the bathroom, the dripping sound getting louder as she approaches. She reaches the bathroom and turns on the light. She is greeted by a horrific sight; hanging from the shower nozzle is her dog with its throat slit open and its blood dripping into the bathtub.

Something on the bathroom mirror catches her eye she turns around. Written on the bathroom mirror in her dog's blood are the words "HUMANS CAN LICK TOO".

  • 08.03.2008 11:33 AM PDT

Dance, Ye merry fools, Dance. For ye doth not know it yet, but thee tis about to be PWNT at Halo 3 FTW.

Posted by: Jessica416
this is freaky!
spring-heeled jack!
dont forget mothman!
about the gasser thing, chlorine will do that to you, if you get a big whiff of it, you start to feel loopy and...it does kind of taste...cherryish... weird.

  • 08.03.2008 1:11 PM PDT

Dance, Ye merry fools, Dance. For ye doth not know it yet, but thee tis about to be PWNT at Halo 3 FTW.

Posted by: steelboom490
Posted by: I DeaconBlues I
Posted by: Pyro Guard
Posted by: soulkiller619
holy crap dude, that is messed up
Posted by: I DeaconBlues I
This is an original story I just wrote!
Knock Before You Enter
One night Kyle Bailey’s parents offered Rachel a babysitting job as they were invited to a High school reunion. They were to be home at around 2 A.M., or at least that’s what they told Rachel. Rachel was only seventeen, and had only little experience in babysitting. But since Kyle was eight years old and basically able to handle himself, she thought she’d be alright.
The night seemed to be an easy one as Kyle kept to himself in his room which allowed Rachel to watch T.V. and talk to her boyfriend on the phone. At about twelve a clock Rachel went to check on Kyle and found he was safely asleep in his bed. Relieved she returned to watching T.V. in the living room. At around twelve thirty she heard a knock at the front door. Odd, she thought. Someone knocking this late, but maybe Kyle’s parents had returned early. In a sensible manner, she didn’t immediately open the door.
“Who is it?” Rachel asked.
“Oh this is just Mr. Hurston from down the street, your parents wanted me to come by and check on you to make sure everything is alright, mind letting me in young lady?”
Frightened, Rachel thought logically about the situation. Her parents did not know where she was babysitting, and Kyle’s parents would not send someone by who didn’t know her name.
“Go away right now or I’m calling the cops!” Rachel yelled shakily.
“Hey now, hey now, no need to do that, obviously you’re ok so I’ll just be on my way.” Replied the stranger.
Scared, Rachel went to make sure Kyle was alright. Everything seemed fine so she anxiously wasted time wishing two o’ clock would come sooner. At around twelve forty five, she heard knocking again.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bailey?” Rachel said in a frightened voice.
She heard nothing but loud knocking and scratching.
“If you don’t answer now I’m calling the cops, I’m not kidding!” Rachel yelled demandingly.
No answer. The knocking had become pounding, the scratching had become clawing. Rachel maneuvered herself around in attempt to see the doorway through the window, but she couldn’t get and angle. Her heart beating she screamed one more time,
“Who are you? What are you trying to do? Leave me alone I’m calling the cops right now!”
Still no answer, just the constant pounding of the door. She wondered how long it would be before the stranger broke down the door, or tries a window. She immediately dialed 911.
“What’s your emergency?”
“There is someone trying to break in the house I’m babysitting at! Please help, I’m only seventeen! Please hurry!”
“Where is the house?”
“Um, um 126 Angel Bend, Please come he’s going to get through!”
“We’re on our way.”
Rachel ran and hid under the bed in the master bedroom. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! She could her pounding from all the in there. She began crying uncontrollably, minutes seemed like hours. Miraculously the pounding and clawing finally stopped. Rachel thought the police had finally come but she wasn’t taking any chances. She waited there until she heard voices,
“Rachel, are you there?”
It was Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, she ran out only to find dismal looks upon their faces. They comforted her but she could tell something was not right. She ran to the doorway only to see Kyle. He had been stabbed in the stomach, and his knuckles were skinless. His fingernails were peeled off and his vocal cord had been severed. The door was covered in blood. She realized what had happened. Rachel now lives at the St. James Insane Asylum and always hears pounding and clawing even inside the padded walls.

Seriously! More stories!


Thanks guys! I actually thought of that myself I'm glad you liked it.

Wait, what did rachel realize? i dont get it!
The noises coming from outside were Kevin(?) trying to get back inside, anf trying to figh off the attacker individual.

  • 08.03.2008 2:01 PM PDT

Add me to play some SWAT im a 28 in it. Trying to raise it.

The Watcher was scarier than either of them... Imagine his face when he figures out what he saw!

  • 08.03.2008 10:58 PM PDT
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Posted by: Captain Richards
I found the "Border Crossing" one to be offensive racially to Mexicans like me.
I know for a fact that that story is based off the stereotype that Mexicans grow drugs.


oh stfu and go have your period.

  • 08.05.2008 2:31 PM PDT

Honor Guard Clan:
we will light the rings to begin the great journey. Our massive numbers, elite soldiers, and powerful ships will obliterate all who dare hinder our progress.

Join us and you will be saved, fight us and you will not live to mar the reflection of our passage.

i dont get it, please explain.

  • 08.09.2008 10:12 PM PDT
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Posted by: FinalHazard006
Here i sit, writing this at quarter after six A.M.

There was a small, friendly town that was only several miles outside Las Vegas. Lately, people have been dissapearing. Three boys were sitting on the steps of a small schoolhouse. "Ya know, Jimmy, they say that the guy that has been taking them people is-" The second boy, Jimmy, cupped his hand over the boy's mouth. "Don't say his name! Don't EVER say his name!" He told him angrily. The school bus arrived, and the boys got on it.. When Jimmy got home, his parents were out. He sat down and watched some "Freakazoid!" re-runs while he waited for them. He watched TV until around midnight, and his parents still weren't home. He decided to call them. He picked up the phone and dialed their number. They never picked up.

He went over to the third boy, Thomas's, house. He wasn't there, either. "Man, there must be some event goin' on. And i wasn't invited!" He went over to the second boy's house, and he was home. "Johnny, at least you're home!", he exclaimed. He noticed that Johnny was crying. "They're gone, Jimmy... he took my parents away..." He replied. "Who took them?!" Johnny said the name, to which Jimmy gasped. "Now he's coming for YOU, too!" Johnny cried harder. "I'm scared, Jimmy!" He sobbed. "Let me in, and get your dad's guns." Jimmy said. "We ain't goin' without a fight." They got a shotgun each, and camped out in the living room. 2 minutes later, the door opens. "He's here..." Johnny said. A ghostly figure entered the room, and headed towards Johnny. "No! If you're gonna take him, you'll have to go through me!" The thing halted for a second. Jimmy blacks out.

He wakes up, and looks around. The shotgun is still in his hand, but Johnny is gone. He isn't in the living room anymore, either. "Dammit, it took Johnny, his parents, and all those people... It probably took Thomas and his family, and mom and pa! I gotta stop this! I gotta kill it! How will i pull it off... think..." He thinks for a few seconds, then stands up, pumping the shotgun. "CANDLEJACK! GET IN HERE AND GIMME MY PAREN


Lol, Candlejack pwned th

  • 08.10.2008 8:55 AM PDT

i dont get it

  • 08.10.2008 12:14 PM PDT

Posted by: YoungFastSnip3r
The Intruder


My friend's sister frequently babysat. One night, she was watching three kids, whose parents were going to be out until about 2:00am. She fed the kids and then they watched some movies. Around 8:00pm, she put the two-year-old to bed. At 8:30, she put the four-year-old to bed and at 9:00, the eight-year old.



She was still hungry so she went back downstairs to make herself a sandwich. When she was almost done, she heard the eight-year-old crying and calling her name. She went upstairs to see what was wrong. When she got up there, the child said she was cold, so the babysitter looked around for another blanket.



As she was doing that, she noticed that the window was open. She thought she had closed all of them but didn't think anything else of it. She closed the window, gave the little girl another blanket, and checked the other windows in the other two children's rooms to make sure they were secure, and then went back downstairs.



When she went back to the kitchen, she noticed that her sandwich was gone. She just brushed it off and blamed it on the dog. She made herself another sandwich. Again, she heard crying, but this time it was the four-year-old. She went to his room, and he too said he was cold. She noticed the window was open again. She was worried this time because she knew she had locked it. She didn't want to scare the child so she just shut and locked it.



She returned downstairs and turned on the alarm system. When she went back to the kitchen, she discovered that her second sandwich was gone. She was really worried so she decided to call the cops. When she told them that her sandwiches were disappearing, they thought she was crazy. She then told them about the windows opening repeatedly and they said it was probably just the kids doing it. After she hung up, she made herself a third sandwich.



She soon heard the two-year-old crying and went up to see what was wrong. Her window was also open. At this point, she was very frightened, so she gathered all of the kids, the cordless phone, and took them into a pantry closet in the kitchen. She called the police again, saying that she was really scared because someone keeps opening the windows and stealing her sandwiches -- and it's not the kids. They told her not to be worried, that they would be over in a few minutes to check it out.



She hung up the phone and held onto the kids tightly. A few minutes later, she heard a noise in the kitchen, and saw the knob turning on the pantry door. She was about ready to scream when a cop opened the door. She asked why they came so fast. He had a worried look on his face and told them to get out of the house. He then told her that on the phone, he heard a double click.


Took me a second to get it.
i dont get it

  • 08.10.2008 12:16 PM PDT
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double click meaning some one else in the house was on the phone and they hung up

  • 08.10.2008 1:47 PM PDT

My girlfriend's always saying to me that the sex isn't important it's just important that we love eachother.
But when she catches me -blam!- her sister suddenly it's the biggest -blam!- issue in the world.

Women get a grip will you for chirsts sake

YOU HAVE TO BE [FUCKING] KIDDING ME!!!!!! I JUST WASTED LIKE 45 MINUTES WRITING A STORY AND WHEN I POST IT, IT DOESN'T SHOW UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  • 08.10.2008 10:25 PM PDT

Get out of my house.
Mars If olive oil is made of olives and vegetable oil is made out of vegetable, what is baby oil made out of......OMG!!! O.0

need more storys

  • 08.13.2008 4:44 PM PDT
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Posted by: XMetalHomicideX
double click meaning some one else in the house was on the phone and they hung up

Oh i thought it meant shotgun. . .

  • 08.14.2008 3:25 PM PDT
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Posted by: EvilTurkey1021
"Daddy, I had a bad dream." You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness—it's 3:23. "Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?" "No, Daddy." The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?" "Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up." For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can't take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.


There are no words to describe how freaked out I would be if I was the dad.

  • 08.14.2008 5:28 PM PDT
Subject: Short, Scary Stories! (New Story in the 2nd Stories thread! link in...

My Pokemon cards bring all the nerds to the yard,
And their like,
"You wanna trade cards,"
"Damn right, I wanna trade cards,
I can beat you, I got Charizard!"

Here is what I am going to contribute the this thread, which is an awesome one BTW!! :)
(This story is NOT mine, I found it online. I will post in 3 parts. Enjoy!)

They Always Get Their Scares (Part 1)

Emma had always loved the month of October. Some might have guessed that it was because her birthday happened to be on the 15th of that month. Others would tell you it was because she enjoyed the cooler weather and the colors of the turning leaves. But her closest friends knew that Emma was crazy about Halloween. She couldn't understand other kids who waited all year for Christmas. Sure, you got great stuff most of the time, but who wanted to do all that waiting and guessing?

What attracted her the most to Halloween was that it required action. The more time spent on your costume, the better it was. The more houses you went to, the more candy you walked away with at the end of the night. Though none of those things, as great as they were, could compare to the action found at a long, deserted warehouse on the edge of town. It was there that, for the latter two and a half weeks of every October, the local Jaycee chapter put on their haunted house. For as long as she could remember, Emma had been drawn to it. Granted, the first three years she had gone, she made it no further than the first shadowy figure in those dark hallways that echoed with the far-off screams of children deeper in that maze of frights... but she was determined.

At the age of ten, she finally completed her first run-through of the haunted house, emerging at the end with her friends, huffing and puffing, bodies jerky and shaking, eyes wide. Her girlfriends hated it; couldn't believe she made them do something like that. Emma, who had been shaking worse than any of them, had loved it. Through the years however, the thrill wore off, not only as she matured, but as she had, time after time, found that the scares never varied. The last time she had been through the house was at the age of eighteen. Somewhere inside of her, she still loved Halloween, but there she was just the same, a high school senior with her friends, every last one (including her) drunk, standing in line outside that warehouse. They had gone through the whole thing, loud and obnoxious, laughing at the fake ghouls and monsters.

Emma especially, who knew the routine by heart, made great efforts to preemptively point out the "scarers" before they so much as uttered a single "boo". Upon bursting through the exit door, breaking the cold, almost sharp silence of that empty October night with their barks of laughter, Emma had a sinking feeling that something that used to be a part of her had just died. Worse, she had murdered it. She mocked what had once brought her joy, and turned her back on it. But the affairs of a teenage girl are much more pressing than a silly old haunted house she had gone to as a child. That sinking feeling left her almost instantly in her drunken haze, and her life went on. So too did the haunted house...

It was a Friday in October, the 31st as a matter of fact. Emma was, by age alone, only three years older than the high school teen she had been on her last haunted house visit. But she matured to an older age in attitude, changing considerably over those three years. She had left home for school, gone through three years of college, and while she was never a slouch when it came to school, had gradually placed much more importance on academics. What little time she had between her studies and her part time job as a waitress was spent with her boyfriend Matt. She found herself that October back at home on fall break from school, sprawled out on the love seat in the fading light of her living room surfing through channel after channel of B horror movies.

She was in fact waiting on Matt to show up as he said he would just the previous night. Of course Emma knew that, while he was a good boyfriend, Matt was never gonna win any awards for punctuality. But, being a good boyfriend, he would be able to keep her company even though there was nothing to do. She often thought it ironic now that she was twenty-one, that when she had been eighteen, the only reason she needed to drink was the simple fact that it was a Friday night. Now, having both boredom and the law on her side, she had no desire to drink whatsoever. If worse came to worse, she knew she had the house to herself. And Matt, after all, was a good boyfriend...

She sat bolt upright, the remote clattering to the floor as her head turned sharply to look behind her. The hallway and the front entryway beyond were much darker than she had expected. The sun was setting earlier and earlier, and the light from the large window to her right was only a soft gray now. Only a burning orange strip of light glowed on the horizon, silhouetting the near bare trees. The only sounds she could hear were those of her heartbeat racing in her ears, her own shallow breathing, and the ticking of the clock; seemingly much too loud all of a sudden. But hadn't there been...? Yes, she could swear she heard a soft creaking coming somewhere from down the hall. Somewhere from the dark. She waited there, tense, for another minute until her neck grew sore. She tried to convince herself it was only floorboards settling and slowly lowered herself quietly back down on the couch.

Her mind had no more wandered away from the thought of that noise when suddenly, there came another. It was much softer, but it was also much closer and this time, it was unmistakable. Emma never had a chance. She could feel that sense of being watched, of being near someone, or something, even before she could turn to face it. As she fell off the couch, turning, she opened her mouth to scream. Dark gleaming eyes balanced over a large gaping jaw full of sharp jagged teeth were staring her right in the face...but that building scream suddenly caught in her throat. There was something about those eyes... and was this creature wearing a hooded sweatshirt and jeans? Oh yes, you'd better believe it.

Emma, with darkly gleaming eyes of her own now, stood and sharply jabbed the monster in the gut. The monster fell over at once, both groaning in pain and laughing hysterically. "You're a real jerk, Matt" Emma spat, but she sat down again next to him anyway, pulling off the lame mask he had been wearing. He was lucky he caught her off guard. Emma knew she'd never be scared of something this childish. Never. Would she? Matt's laughter slowly tapered off to small giggles as he sat up. "It's Halloween, gimme a break. Besides, the look on your face was more than worth it."

"Yea, well maybe we'll see how priceless the look on your face is when I send you home early tonight." She replied, trying her best to sound angry with him while holding back a smile. "And besides, what have I told you about letting yourself in?" "Em, its freezing out. How could a perfectly nice guy like myself be expected to wait out there while your lazy butt got moving?" "Oooh, I'm lazy!? I'm lazy?! You're the one who's a half hour late" she said, emphasizing the point by poking him in the stomach. Matt put an arm around her and kissed her regardless. "I prefer the term 'fashionably late.'"

From behind them on the TV, the horror movie that had been showing broke to a commercial. Matt was the first to notice it. "Have nothing to do? Want to add some thrills and chills to your evening?" the commercial's poor imitation of Vincent Price inquired. "Then come out to the final night of the Jaycees Haunted House. We're dying for you to come, and you'll die to get out..." as the bad echo FX laughter faded and the commercial rattled off the address and admission price, Matt knew exactly how he and Emma would be spending their Halloween. It seemed almost too perfect actually. "You ever been there?" Matt asked. Emma turned to watch the commercial and simply muttered "Yea, when I was little" and turned back to him apprehensively. "Why?" Matt could already see she was going to protest but he knew she couldn't argue.

"We have nothing better to do right? It's Halloween, and it'll be fun. Besides, the more time spent with you in the dark, the better" he said, wagging his eyebrows, making a bad attempt at being charming. This got Emma giggling and he knew then that they were going. "Shot gun!" he shouted in mock joy as he raced for the door. "I am not driving!" Emma yelled after him, still giggling, as the door shut behind her.

In the living room, the forgotten TV still glowed, the commercial and that echoing laughter both still at it. And then... it just cut out. No rhyme, no reason. The commercial stopped and the bad horror movie was back on. A large-breasted blonde was screaming as she ran from the shuffling monster. There were no other commercials that followed that of the haunted house, and if Emma had stayed, she might or might not have noticed that a whole three minutes or so had been missing from the movie, like the commercial was a mistake. As if it wasn't supposed to have happened at all...

[Edited on 08.20.2008 11:14 AM PDT]

  • 08.20.2008 11:03 AM PDT

My Pokemon cards bring all the nerds to the yard,
And their like,
"You wanna trade cards,"
"Damn right, I wanna trade cards,
I can beat you, I got Charizard!"

They Always Get Their Scares (Part 2)

"You've got to be kidding..." Emma was only half out the driver's side of the car before she wished she had thought of a way out of this. Even for a Halloween night there were plenty of little (and not so little) kids waiting in line. Some were in costumes, but most were bundled in big jackets. Matt had been right, it was freezing, and Emma tried desperately to remember if they had heated the inside of the haunted house the last time she was there. She couldn't remember.

"Do we really have to spend our night with a bunch of twelve-year-olds?" Emma pleaded. "I don't see how you wouldn't want to. Little, waist-high creeps screaming for their mommies? That stuff is priceless. Who knows, maybe they'll even get a few screams outta you" Matt teased, grabbing her waist. "I doubt it very much. I've been here before and I know the drill." "Yea well we'll see Ms. Grumpy" he said, glancing at her sideways as they joined the line, wondering what her deal was with this place anyway. She seemed almost... ashamed to be there. Soon, they were paying and then being ushered inside and his interest turned to the haunted house.

Matt was fairly impressed with the first couple of minutes in those early pitch-black hallways. Vague noises called out and objects brushed by him quickly in a rush of footfalls and heavy breathing. He was impressed, yes. Scared, no. And it seemed to him that Emma was in the same boat on the being scared business. There was no clinging to him, no gasps of surprise. He could sense her there next to him, but her presence felt as natural as if they were strolling down the street.

It wasn't long before Matt could say he was no longer impressed as well as not being scared. It quickly devolved after those dark hallways into colored spotlights on badly painted backdrops, while grown men in masks leapt out from their hiding places. More than once Emma yawned, and at one point even whispered in Matt's ear "Aren't you glad we came?" Yes, he was getting the point loud and clear. It was bad alright, and he knew she'd tease him about it for weeks. They started making their way around a corner with their small group of twelve-year-olds, past a Dracula declaring that he vanted to suck Matt's blud, and came to another pitch-black hall.

Matt took Emma's hand as they blindly felt their way along, when Matt called back to her "I think I found a door." Emma started to reply that there was no door here, to just keep walking... but Matt was already pulling her along. As she followed he suddenly stopped and there was a soft click behind her. There really was a door! she thought. Whaddya know? After all that time, they finally added something new. But that click of the door did not sit well with her. It sounded too final somehow. And this new hall did not seem like such a great place to be, even for a haunted house.

A solitary light bulb swung lazily overhead, emitting a soft buzzing, electric hum. The light was dim and yellowed, the bulb caked with a thin brown film. The walls looked like they had once been painted white, but now they too were a decayed yellow tint. Large patches of paint were missing along the length of the hall, while it bulged out in other places. The path that set before them was simply concrete, dotted with small, half-evaporated puddles of stagnant water.

And the smell! There was no mistaking that disgustingly, tangy smell of vomit. "Matt, I don't...we shouldn't be here." "Well then why would they put a door there?" he asked, but was obviously not interested in finding out. Matt turned back to the door and twisted the knob. There was a little metal click as the knob stopped abruptly, not turning any further. The door had locked behind them. Beside him, Emma was still softly repeating "We shouldn't be here...this isn't part of it..."

As Matt began pounding on the door, Emma knew it was a bad idea. She had that feeling again. The feeling she had had right before she was surprised by Matt back in her living room. Only it was much stronger now. Primal. She quickly grabbed his arm, shaking her head wildly, eyes frightened. She was not just worried, but terrified, and now Matt began to wish they were back in that first hallway when she was bored and was eager to let him know it. He could take all her taunting and teasing for making her come to a crappy haunted house. He could take anything she could dish out as long as he didn't have to see that look in her eyes. He was on the verge of panic, about to start banging on the door again when suddenly there came a small sobbing noise from up that filthy hall.

Both Emma and Matt turned to each other. "Did one of the kids in our group come through with us?" Emma asked. "They couldn't have. We would've seen...right? I mean, they're not that small..." but he looked up the hall again towards the sound, and they both fell silent, waiting. After what seemed forever a faint voice could be heard drifting down along the walls. They both strained to hear it, their puzzled eyes darting to each other than back up the hall. Finally, Matt could make it out. It sounded like a little girl crying softly "please...please don't. you're hurting me..." then there were more quiet sobs and then nothing more.

"Did you hear that?" He asked Emma. She only nodded. Without another word, they both started slowly, making their way up the dank hall. The farther they moved along, the dimmer the light from the single light bulb grew. By the time they reached the end, both visibly shaking and in a cold sweat, it was almost too dark for them to see each other. For the first time in three years, Emma remembered her last trip to the haunted house, remembered so clearly.

There had a been a character at the end, very tall and very lanky, who had come out of hiding like the rest, annoying the disrespectful high-schoolers. As she and her friends made their way to the exit, that lone figure had tightly grabbed her arm with it's knobby fingers. She saw it's dirty, yellowed fingernails grip into her momentarily, and she looked at it's face, expecting to be scolded by an adult -- but found only the fake empty eyes of a mask. It held her and then seemed to think twice of it and let her go. Thinking back it was the only thing that had really scared her that night. It was those dead, empty eyes that were suddenly back in her mind now as she and Matt came to the end of the hall.

The hall joined with another forming a T. They both looked down to the left to find nothing but darkness. When they turned to the right, both of them froze. There stood a young girl, her white-blonde hair hanging in greasy strings over her her eyes... Those eyes! They were rolling wildly and sickly in their sockets. Her jaw worked open and shut, but no words came out, only a solid string of saliva bobbing at the end of her chin. Her skin was pale, with almost a purple tint to it. Matt saw the reason why and a low shaky moan escaped him... the girl was missing her left arm. Maybe it would be more correct to say that her arm wasn't connected to her body, because she wasn't completely missing it. In her right hand, dangling on the floor, was that very arm, gripped in her tiny hand by the wrist as the ragged flesh made patches of smeared red, grazing the concrete.

That sight alone was enough to make silent tears of helpless surrender pour down Emma's face, but it was what was behind the girl that stopped any conscious thoughts in her mind: There were hundreds of eyes glowing behind that mutilated girl. They were not those dead eyes she saw when she was 18, nor were they the sort of glowing red eyes portrayed in movies. There, staring at them, were round discs of luminescence reflecting back at them, the eyes of animals...of creatures...that hunt at night.

It seemed to Emma that three things happened in rapid succession: She became suddenly aware of the warmth running down her leg, the young girl dropped her arm with a putrid thud, and the light bulb they had left far behind was extinguished with a hollow pop. The light had no sooner gone out then Emma heard Matt screaming her name, first in fright...then in pain. "Em? Emma what... where are you? Emma, what the hell is...Emma? emmaa-aaAAAHH!" She could hear things moving past her quickly, and she could only whisper Matt's name as she started to run, felt her knees buckle weakly, and collapsed in a heap on the cold gritty floor.

She could hear sounds behind her, wet and thick, scraping along the floor, interjected by muffled, snapping sounds. Emma was all set to scream then, but there came a voice in her right ear. She could feel the warm breath puff against her skin; smell that sick-sweet odor of vomit, so strong now that she nearly vomited herself. The voice, though only a whisper, could be heard over the maddening sounds behind her. It was the girl. In a soft, almost mockingly sweet voice she asked "Are we scaring you yet?" And then it was Matt's voice she heard, wet and bubbly, as if he were gargling his words. It was weak but she could make out between his sobs "please... Emma... help."

She reached out without thinking now and grabbed wildly, found what she believed to be Matt's hand and then she was running, running blind. Not long after, she hit a wall, saw stars, and started shuffling along it, looking for any door, any window, anything to get them out. She had almost turned to run again, when her hand brushed something. She pulled it so hard she felt her shoulder ignite in pain. She stopped then, and tried to turn it... it was moving! Without waiting any longer she pushed against the door with her good shoulder and tumbled out into a back alley face-first.

[Edited on 08.20.2008 11:16 AM PDT]

  • 08.20.2008 11:06 AM PDT