Scary Tales

I scuttled into a thicker area of the bush-wall that I had settled in. Taking in my surroundings, I realized no one was near. Sofia, Aiden, and Lissa were interlocked in a fight across the street on the other side of the block. I listened for footsteps, then sprinted into the alley, my dumbbell in hand, just in case. I was one to hide, and I never looked for a kill. I stepped close to the garages in the alley, clutching my weapon. I had earned it, but had had to kill Chloey in exchange for it. She was two years younger, but not an easy kill.

Man, she had an attitude. I walked into the backyard of a house where no one lived. Most of the kids said it was haunted. I hid inside the garage. It was a small, musty room. The ugly green paint was peeling, revealing a sickly grey shade underneath it. No wonder no one lived in the place. The red brick walls were coated in green ivy. A brick was even sticking out, its edge jagged and sharp. Suddenly, I heard a rustle. I spun around madly, shining my flashlight. My eyes darted left and right. His voice was deep and threatening.

My eyes were wide with fear. The moonlight shone on him, but his black-grey cloak — jacket, I should say — concealed his face. I ran out of the yard, faking a right, but actually stumbling to the left. I looked over my shoulder. There was no one behind me. I kept running — I screamed when I stopped.

The figure was in front of me. Without thinking, without speaking, I grabbed my trusty knife — And slashed it across his face. Just one long, bloody, scarring gash across his face, reaching from his forehead, across his eye, his lips, to his chin. He ran after me, groaning in pain and agony, chasing after me, in the dark, the moonlight forming his terrifying silhouette.

It was only when he tripped over a root — the root of the tree where I had fallen — that I stopped running. A pool of blood formed. Without looking back, I ran out of the dark, bloody alley and back to my house. I will find you. Six years later, I still live in terror, thinking that one day, that man will return, waiting to take his revenge on me. She was odd Quiet and kept to her slef. Kim told Katy to talk to him. Later on that day we started moving in and well that went good,well for everyone else.

I had lots of truble getting used to the place and this is why. I first saw it at the stairway standing there looking at me and there I was screaming it was going to get me was the only thing on my mind. All of a sudenly it hit me what if I locked it after she followed me,yes she it was in fact a woman. She had a white dress on and looked old but yet still very young. This story i am posting is real its not fake it happened to me. This story is not as exciting,but it is true.

During my summer holidays 3 years ago i stayed at my aunties house in Ukraine. My aunt owns two market stalls one in the town center one 5 mins walking from her house my aunt like everyday would work in the town one while me and my cousin in the close one i was 12 then and my cousin was That day i was working alone i was used to it not many people walk by about 1 person every 15 mins if lucky.

That day an old woman was walking by about years old. But what creeped me out about her was the big black fly sitting on her nose and her holding her hand out she was muttering something to herself. I didnt know what she wanted i asked if she wanted money she just nodded and continued muttering i gave her a very small amount of money about 10 cent in euros i gave it from my own pocket though not the shops money. I kept on thinking that day how creepy that woman was.

I was meant go back to Ireland in a weeks time after that event. I never told this to anyone until now. My cousin 2 days later said she saw a weird woman. She said that the woman just asked about the sun cream and left: When i came back to Ireland after the long plane journey it was around 10pm.

I was really tired but i didnt feel to good either i dont remember why but i asked if i could sleep with my mom. That night i had the most frightning nightmare i had in my life i only remember the end part i was a deteictive reasearching the mysterious relious cult. I told my mom. My mom is a very religoious person she said a prayer over me for an hour then the nightmares stoped.

But i still could not control my fear of every little thing i sleepet with a night light this went on about for 3 months. But this was the most frightning experince in my life. Hope you liked my story i now it might be a bit boring but none of it is a lie. Thumb Soup One bright afternoon i decided to go to a restraunt for the evening.

Ok a story that just popped out of my head: Meet my at the old cemetery by the park tomorrow at 5: This was left yesterday. Now it is 4: I got my coat on and took the note. I stared blankly at the cemetery next door. Maybe it was one of those cute boys from my school. The ones that were so amazingly strong. Collin was my ex-boyfriend who killed my father. Hoping someone would hear, I ran to the park. Pushing me to Collin. Sweat rolled down my neck. It was just a dream…. Like to say that these stories are awesome and I always get freaked out which is why I love them so much.

Keep making these great stories. I moved to a new town it was much nicer,cleaner and quiter then the one I lived at before not the sorta town you expect to have things wrong with it. There was a playground it held rows apon rows of swings and slides infested with snake like tunels that weaved in and around the playground providing children a maze to lose themselves in their games their was even a fuctioning merry go round that seemed to always be slightly turning inviting children to hitch a ride on its platform of twirls i have to emphasize the fact that it was a peacful town were kids could leave there house on there own and take part in a short journey to the park i had been given strict instructions from my parents that i should be home the second it started getting dark.

First message though Its not my story I dont own the copy rights I heard it from my cousin in ukrain who heard it from her friend and so on. Once a family of four lived in Ukraine. Father,mother their son who was 16 and a daughter who was only 9. One day they went to a market. The mother tought the carpet would be perfect for their house so they bought it. When they got home they placed the carpet in the living room floor. That night the father woke up in the middle of the night hearing a strange sound down stairs like someone was calling him he couldnt resist it so he went down stairs.

The next morning the children woke up from a scream of their mother. They ran downstairs to a horrific sight the fathers limbs were cut off from his body on his face expression it looked as if he has seen something horrible. The mother stood there crying the son quickly told his sister to go to her room she did as she was told straight away he then called the police. What's funny, is while I would wager you never have heard the name Dartalian in any relegious texts, I bet you have heard of me. Americans, for example, have their own name for me. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.

Scary Tales

There was no pearly gate. The only reason I knew I was in a cave was because I had just passed the entrance. The rock wall rose behind me with no ceiling in sight. I knew this was it, this was what religion talked about, what man feared.. I had just entered the gate to hell. I felt the presence of the cave as if it was a living, breathing creature. The stench of rotten flesh overwhelmed me. Then there was the voice, it came from inside and all around. I've lived as good as I could". The silence took over the space as my words died out.

It seemed like an hour went by before the response came. I never believed any of this", I uttered "Is that why I am here? The cave trembled with the words: It was one a. He hadn't moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right, and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement.

Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run, you idiot? He'd never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone.

Why not just go to the police right now? You can afford a lawyer. Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. His body trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. He let out a defeated sigh. Let me —"I am terribly sorry, but I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your son's bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene.

I'm very sorry for your loss. Have you ever walked into a room and found a vampire? No, not the sexy kind, but a foul creature with bony limbs and ashen skin? The kind that snarls as you enter, like a beast about to pounce? The kind that roots you to the spot with its sunken, hypnotic eyes, rendering you unable to flee as you watch the hideous thing uncoil from the shadows?

Has your heart started racing though your legs refuse to? Have you felt time slow as the creature crosses the room in the darkness of a blink? Have you shuddered with fear when it places one clawed hand atop your head and another under your chin so it can tilt you, exposing your neck?

Have you squirmed as its rough, dry tongue slides down your cheek, over your jaw, to your throat, in a slithering search that's seeking your artery? Have you felt its hot breath release in a hiss against your skin when it probes your pulse—the flow that leads to your brain? Has its tongue rested there, throbbing slightly as if savoring the moment?

Have you then experienced a sinking, sucking blackness as you discover that not all vampires feed on blood—some feed on memories? But let me rephrase the question: Have you ever walked into a room and suddenly forgotten why you came in? The doctor pulled the stethoscope ear tips out and hung the device around his neck. Weatherby, all of your tests have come back negative and my examination shows nothing abnormal. A psychologist can help They seem to have a life all their own.

Sleep well.

I can't hold a job. I'm under investigation for assault. I almost killed my neighbor. This can't go on. I'll try anything at this point. He was convinced that despite what the doctors said, it was not a psychological problem. That night, a frustrated and angry Adam sat in a chair and drank bourbon. Drunk and hopeless, he stumbled to the garage and started the table saw, then slowly lowered his wrists toward the screaming blade. Detective Armstrong entered the garage where several uniformed officers stood over the blood-soaked body.

He apparently chopped off his hands with the table saw and bled to death. I don't know why I looked up, but when I did I saw him there. He stood against my window. His forehead rested against the glass, and his eyes were still and light and he smiled a lipstick-red, cartoonish grin. And he just stood there in the window. My wife was upstairs sleeping, my son was in his crib and I couldn't move I froze and watched him looking past me through the glass. His smile never moved but he put a hand up and slid it down the glass, watching me.

With matted hair and yellow skin and face through the window. I couldn't do anything. I just stayed there, frozen, feet still in the bushes I was pruning, looking into my home. People started falling from the sky by the close of the decade. They were never clothed, always naked, always a petrifying grin on their faces. It had been just a few at first, but then hundreds and thousands would fall at a time, destroying cars, homes, blocking off highways. Strange discoveries were made upon research; they were human, but lacked any blood, intestines, even a heart. No one could explain the hideous grins they had, or even where they came from.

It was a woman in Costa Rica who made the latest and most disturbing discovery. She recognized one of the fallen bodies as a long dead relative, one who died back when she had been a teenager. Then more and more identifications were made. Soon people were picking out their long dead loved ones amongst the video feeds, cadaver piles, and crematoriums. No one could explain why they were coming back, falling from the sky. Even more distressing, after disposing of the bodies, it wouldn't be long until that same body came plummeting from the sky again. You could not get rid of them, no matter what.

People were getting killed by the higher volume of falling bodies, and soon after burial, they too, began to fall. My mother was killed when a body landed on her car, crushing her. The next week, the news reported on a body that had gotten lodged in an airplane windshield. They say when hell is full; the dead shall walk the earth.

I watched as my soon to be father-in-law held his daughter's hand as he walked down the aisle. Tears streamed down his face as the wedding march that played in the background reminded him that, in a few minutes, he would be watching me hold his daughter's hand and slipping on her ring. He walked up to the altar and I took hold of her hand, grinning from ear to ear. It was the happiest day of my life. My bride's father got down on his knees and started begging. Just please give my daughter back. Panicked, I run through the abandoned farm. I can't find her.

Not in the old house. Not in the barn. I run into the empty field, heart racing. As I scan the area, I run into a mound of dirt and trip, sprawling to the ground. Getting up, it hits me. I tripped over freshly tilled earth. Crouching down, I start frantically clawing with my hands. Scooping handfuls of dirt, I hit something hard.

I hear muffled cries. I start digging again, but realize it's taking too long. Looking around, I see a garden shed. I sprint to it, ripping the door open. I see a shovel, still caked in dirt. Probably the same one that bastard buried her with. Running back, I started digging with purpose. Soon the wooden box is exposed. I toss the shovel, and rip open the crate. She stares back at me, eyes wide. I sigh with relief.

I reach into my bag, pulling out my rag and chloroform. I crouch down, placing it over her face. I toss her over my shoulder. You almost had me though! Where did you put her? Drowning's an issue though. I smile, watching him go. I love adult Hide and Seek. Look, I'll be the first to admit I'm a complete bastard. I'm only here to find the idiot, because there's almost always an idiot. This support group is pretty typical. We connected online, decided on a quiet place, and now we're all sitting cross-legged in a circle.

Jerome takes the lead, pouring everyone a cup of tea as he starts talking.

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You can drink your tea, but only after explaining why you're here. I can see why—the guy's ugly as sin. He sips his tea while the mousy chick speaks next. She's probably not the idiot. Next to talk are a legless veteran, a broke businessman, a needle-tracked junkie, and a diseased old crone. Then it's my turn. Afterwards, we're all sitting quietly when Jerome keels over. Then Miyu's eyes roll back and she slumps forward. Only the fat kid reacts.

No one wants to die alone, kid. These suicide meetups are a sadist's dream, and I never have to lift a finger. Little Emily vanished last year. Now they're pouring new sidewalks in my neighborhood, and I've found her name in the wet cement, written in remembrance. But it was written in reverse. I bought a new house in the small town of Winthrop. The house was cheap, but the most important part was that I needed to get away from the city.

A few months ago, I had a run-in with a stalker. While I had managed to get him arrested, I couldn't shake the feeling of eyes just constantly watching me. I felt like there were eyes everywhere, at home and on the street, so I decided to move out into the country to somewhere with less people, just for peace of mind. The house itself was big and somewhat old, but otherwise very welcoming. The agent who introduced me to the house had been required to mention that a serial killer had lived here in the past, which was why the house was so cheap.

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However, he, and later, my next door neighbor Sarah, both told me to pay the thought no mind. Four other owners had lived in the house since then, and all of them were very happy with it. I loved the house. Its interior furnishings were beautiful and very comfortable. The people of Winthrop were friendly, often bringing over freshly baked pastries or inviting me over for dinner. I tried to ignore it, but soon I started losing sleep. Giant bags grew under my eyes and I began yawning almost as much as I breathed. Sarah was kind enough to let me stay in her house for a few nights.

It was during this time that I heard the legend of Forrest Carter, the serial killer who had lived in my house. While no one knows his exact kill count, Carter, also known as the Winthrop Peacock, was a man with extremely severe case of narcissism. Legends say that he couldn't fall asleep if he didn't feel like he was being watched.

He was finally arrested for putting up a scarecrow to watch him during the night. Only it wasn't a scarecrow. Carter had murdered a 17 year old girl, just so her corpse could stare at him. Mama Bear could be seen to her left coming out of a window growling. The next fairytale was Humpty Dumpty. After that guests would enter an underwater seen with screens projecting bubbles.

This was suppressed to represent The Little Mermaid. Guests then entered a hallway lined with seaweed. Behind the seaweed were Merpeople who would scream at guests and come out from behind the seaweed. At the very end of the house Papa Bear would jump out from behind a wall. Sign In Don't have an account? Screampunk Scary Tales: Contents [ show ].

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