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ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:41 MDT

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ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:31 MDT

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ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:30 MDT

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Demon 3

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:30 MDT

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TAILYPO There is a place in the mountains where few humans live. The woods around it are deep and dark. A thick fog often settles along the ridges and in the valleys. And weird creatures are said to prowl the land through the long, lonely nights. There is one old cabin built in a hollow in the farthest part of the deep, dark woods. A man named Jake had lived there for all his life. He seldom saw other people, and his only friends were his three hunting dogs. They lived under the porch of his log cabin. One winter night toward spring, Jake sat by his fireplace staring at the pot of beans simmering on the fire. It had been a hard winter, and Jake's food supply was almost gone. He felt as though his stomach had shrunk to the size of one of those hard beans in the pot. Even his dogs had grown thin and scrawny from hunger. As Jake reached his spoon toward the pot of beans, he felt a cold draft creep around his neck. It sent a shiver through his body. He wondered where the draft was coming from, for he had sealed up the cabin tight for the winter. But he was too hungry to worry about it. He dipped his spoon into the pot of beans. Before he could eat any, he felt another cold draft blowing across the cabin. This time, it felt like icy claws around his neck. Jake turned away from the fire to look around. His eyes widened in terror, and he dropped the spoon with a clatter on the floor. Sitting across the cabin from him was the weirdest creature he had ever seen. Its eyes were a bright yellow that seemed to burn from some strange heat. Its head looked like a wolf's except for the ears and stuck up in high points above the leering face. its body, which was about the size of one of Jake's dogs, was covered with a thick, reddish-brown fur. Then Jake noticed the strangest thing of all. The creature had a long, thick tail that wrapped all the way around its body. For a minute Jake sat frozen in his chair, and the creature crouched still on the floor. They stared at each other from across the room. Then, in a lightning fast move, Jake lunged for his hunting knife on the table. The creature sprang up and jumped for the hole it had clawed into the cabin wall. The animal was fast, but so was Jake. It was just jumping through the hole as Jake's knife came down at it. With a clean slice, the knife cut off the creature's long, thick tail. There was a horrible screech that cut through the night air. Then the animal ran off into the deep, dark woods. Jake stared at the thick tail lying on the floor of his cabin. His stomach rumbled with hunger. It was meat, like any other part of an animal, and he hadn't had meat for weeks. Jake put a big kettle of water onto the fire to boil. Then he cooked the long, thick tail and ate it for his supper. It tasted a bit strange, but there was a lot of it. Jake even fed the scraps that were left to his three dogs. As he watched them eat, he thought of the weird creature again. He decided to keep his dogs with him in the cabin for the night. Before he went to bed, Jake plugged up the hole in the cabin wall with a piece of wood and rags. Then he settled down to sleep, with his three dogs under his bed. Even though he was exhausted, Jake couldn't go to sleep. His stomach was rumbling from the strange meal. And the wind had picked up outside and was whistling around the cabin. Then Jake heard a scratching noise outside his door. It was the sound of claws scraping against the wood. And over the whistling of the wind, he heard a weird voice calling, "Tailypo, Tailypo, give me back my Tailypo." Jake bolted upright in bed. The claws were scratching on the door even louder. And again he heard the weird call, "Tailypo, Tailypo, give me back my Tailypo." The dogs under his bed began to growl, and Jake whistled them out. He rushed to the cabin door, threw it open, and sent the dogs out after the creature. There were terrible screeches and howls as the dogs chased the creature into the dark woods. Jake waited and listened. After ten minutes, two of the dogs came panting back to the cabin. But no matter how hard Jake called, the third dog never returned from the woods. Jake bolted the door and went back to bed with the two dogs lying underneath him. Again his stomach rumbled from his strange meal, and the wind whistled around the cabin. Then Jake heard a scratching noise outside his door. It was the sound of claws scraping against the wood. And the weird voice started up again, "Tailypo, Tailypo, give me back my Tailypo." Jake shrunk back into the bed and covered his head with a blanket. But the weird voice came even louder. "Tailypo, Tailypo, give me back my Tailypo. You have got it; that I know. Give me back my Tailypo." The two dogs under the bed were growling, and Jake whistled them out. Again he threw open the door, and the dogs went bounding out after the creature. With loud screeching and howling, the dogs chased the animal into the woods. Jake waited and listened. Soon he saw just one dog running back to the cabin in the moonlight. The dog whimpered as Jake let it in the door; then it ran under the bed and hid. Jake bolted the door and crawled in bed. But he hadn't even shut his eyes before he heard the scratching of claws on the door. And the weird voice said, "Tailypo, Tailypo, give me back my Tailypo." Jake jumped out of bed and whistled for his last dog. It growled from under the bed and wouldn't come out. Finally Jake dragged it out and pulled it to the door. He opened the door and forced the dog out after the creature. There was a short howl and then a long screech. Jake waited and listened. After ten minutes, he opened the door and called for the dog. But nothing came back out of the dark woods around the cabin. Jake slammed the door shut quickly, bolted it, and jumped into his bed. He was shivering hard, but the blankets didn't seem to make him warmer. He waited and waited. The wind whistled louder around the cabin. Jake strained his ears to hear the sound of claws scratching on the door. He waited for the weird voice. He heard nothing but the sound of the wind. Jake waited and listened. Then finally he fell asleep. With a start, Jake woke up. He heard the sound of claws scratching against wood. But this time, the sound was closer and louder. Jake's eyes flew open and meet the burning yellow eyes staring at him from the end of his bed. The creature sat there, scratching its claws against the bedpost. "Tailypo, Tailypo, give me back my Tailypo," it said in its weird voice. "I . . . I . . . don't have it," Jake stammered. The creature crawled forward on the bed. Its face was only a foot from Jake's. "TAILYPO, TAILYPO, GIVE ME BACK MY TAILYPO. YOU HAVE GOT IT; THAT I KNOW. GIVE ME BACK MY TAILYPO!" Jake was never seen in the hills again. And the mountain folk say that if you are all alone at night and listen carefully, you can hear a weird voice calling on the wind: "Tailypo, Tailypo, now I have my Tailypo!"

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ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:29 MDT

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The Restaraunt

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:29 MDT

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The Restaraunt - SCARYSTORYTHERESTAURANT.jpg

THE RESTAURANT Jerry slurped up his bowl of stew like a man who hadn't eaten in six days. In fact, it had only been a few hours, but driving around in the backwoods in the middle of a monstrous thunderstorm looking for the interstate and getting hopelessly lost, had somehow awakened his appetite. He found the dingy little diner entirely by accident. It was off on an unpaved road, barely more than a muddy trail, and it looked so decrepit he at first thought it had been abandoned. Even more strange, he found the restaurant was near a real crematory. In a way it was. When he stepped inside, he saw that he was the only customer. As he walked into the front hall which was turned into a gallery of horror. There were paintings hung up. The paintings depicted ghastly scenes of the days of the black death. Heckling skeletons were constructing caskets and putting the newly dead inside of them and then burying them. The interior smelled of burnt meat, and the menu reflected it. As he sat down he gazed in awe fascination into the walls of the restaurant. They were made of Plexiglas that housed what looked like a giant ant farm. He could even see the ants inside crawling about on their tasks. He wondered what inspired this idea for a restaurant, probably a dream he thought. But through it all Jerry wasn't intimated or too picky, he would take what he could get. The stew had a rich, savory broth, with succulent bits of meat swimming in it. It seemed almost too good for the surroundings. He was glad he had taken the waitress's recommendation. Her heavy accent had prevented him from understanding anything else she said. "What's good?" he had asked. "Stew's good," she had said. "What's in it?" he had asked. "Stew's good," she had said. Well, okay, the stew WAS good. And Jerry spent most of his meal silently trying to match the ingredients to the accent of the waitress. Romania? He was almost done with the stew, and nowhere nearer an answer, when he crunched down on something hard. He tried to spit it out, but it had forced itself partly between his teeth and he had to work a finger in to extricate it. It was a bone!-but not like any bone he had seen before. It had a triangular shape, sort of like . . . . what did they call those little bones in the spine? Vertebrae? Jerry had never seen one this small before. He was puzzling over his discovery when he happened to look down at his spoon. Sticking to the congealed goo on its edge was a hair. Too long to be one of his own. Too short to be from the waitress. As though perfectly timed, he heard a loud snarl from the kitchen that ended with a definitive- sounding scream, and after that came a loud THUNK!. Like something being chopped with a meat cleaver. The scream was shrill but short, as if it had been cut off abruptly. He spit out the bit of food left in his mouth and pushed back in his chair, retching. This had to be some sick joke he thought to himself. Things like this your only hear about in urban legends! He was repulsed. But more than anything else he was scared! Sure, there were tribes that ate there own family, but that was to celebrate the deceased, as to to inherit the dead person's soul into your own. But things like that never happen here. Jerry bellowed for the waitress, and when she didn't come out from the kitchen he bellowed for her again. Still no response. He knew he shouldn't just get up and leave without paying. But he couldn't resist giving these primitives a piece of his mind. Walking back behind the counter, he peered through the round window in the swinging kitchen doors, determined to get someone's attention. The windows were dirty on the inside, and he couldn't see a thing. He was disgusted at the unsanitary appearance of the inner kitchen. Pushing gently, Jerry opened the doors just wide enough to slip through. The kitchen looked like prep areas he remembered from his teenage years working at fast-food joints: stainless steel tables, utility sinks for washing dishes, a deep fryer, and a huge stove with multiple burners. The place was as deserted as the front serving area. An open pot hissing on the stove billowed steam around the kitchen. Jerry looked into it cautiously and could make out lumps of something blanched bobbing in a boiling froth. The smell coming from the pot was acrid, and Jerry felt his stomach lurch instinctively. He called out a "Hello?" but there was still no answer. A doorway in the back revealed a narrow hall leading to a dimly lit room. On his way to it, Jerry passed a butcher's block. A cleaver an a set of filleting knives were lying on its blade-scored surface. He had no doubt that this was where they prepared the mysterious meat. But where was the bloody mess? There didn't appear to be anyone in the back room, either. The bulk of the space was taken up by a walk-in refrigerator, and Jerry saw that the door was slightly ajar. If the waitress had stepped inside to retrieve something, she wouldn't have heard him yelling. He pulled the door back. There wasn't much to look at inside. A few cuts of meat, including a rack of short ribs, hung along the side. Jerry looked closer and got that clutching feeling in his stomach again. He was looking at a human rib cage! It had been expertly dressed out and cleaned. A few ribs on the lower left side had been taken out by a sharp edge. Arms dangled from meat hooks. Jerry counted three of them. The bicep of one had been expertly de-fleshed. He didn't even want to guess what the loop of sausage casings hanging next to it contained. This wasn't a refrigerator-it was a slaughterhouse! Gagging, he backed through the door---and felt something sharp enter his back. Before he could even react, it had angled upward and jiggled swiftly to the left and the right. Something seemed to open inside him. With a gasp he pulled forward, turning on his heel, clutching the side of the refrigerator door as his legs gave out beneath him. He just had time to see a large man in a bloodstained cook's apron brandishing the wicked boning knife he had backed into. The man had a cruel smile on his face. The first thought that came to his mind was DEAD MEAT. Several people were standing behind the cook: the waitress and others in the kitchen garb. They all had the same crazed look in their eyes. HUNGER! When Jerry had walked into this little greasy spoon, he had wondered, as he always did about places that had no business, how they managed to stay alive. He knew now. Jerry's final thoughts were of what kind of dinner special HIS meat would be turned into, just before he blackened into his final journey. SICK This Story Is Dedicated To The METALLICA Song SANITARIUM. She is so beautiful, He thought to himself, He loved her so much. Her hot, silky body. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear. Her ever so loving voice. But most of all he adored her sweet, innocent face. He knew all its lines and creases, Its many soft curves and sharp angles. Sometimes, late at night, he would lie awake for hours, staring at her while she lay peacefully on her pillow. Gazing raptly at her features, memorizing its contours with the tips of his fingers. The brow was an impressive brow, high and prominent. He had always thought that a strong brow was the sign of a strong mind. Sometimes he wondered what thoughts went on behind that brow, and whether he could ever understand them all. His own brow was not so big, and so, he guessed, neither were his thoughts. But he too had thoughts that were not so easily understood either. He knew he did! He had surprised his lover with them once, and that was proof. Her eyes were so innocent and so pure. The sockets deep set but level to give them a penetrating gaze. Behind the shut lids were the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. "Baby blue," he called them, but there was nothing remarkable about them. The almost imperceptible wrinkles born of stress, drawn at the corners were a clue to their witness. These were eyes with experience. They had seen quite a lot-not all of it pleasant. Sometimes he thought those eyes could look right into his soul. Yet there was still innocence in their look. For he knew they could not see everything. His lover's nose was a marble sculpture, a Grecian ideal of beauty made flesh. It helped to accentuate the sharp cheekbones, and divided the face with geometric precision into absolutely perfect halves. There are two equal sides to everything, he would say. Just look at my lover's face. The lips were perhaps the most remarkable feature of his lover's face. Thin, but no so thin that they did not feel full and inviting when pressed against his own. More than the brow, more than the eyes, more than the nose, it was the lips that best captured the expressions of his lover. Relaxed, they were a study of contentment. Turned down, they were a road map of dissatisfaction. He preferred to think of them turned up, in absolute happiness and laughter. It was these lips, so sweet and gentle in their line that shaped the words his lover spoke to him. Those words often amazed him. They spoke of important things he sometimes did not understand. They spoke tenderly of him and the affection his lover felt toward him. Once they had spoken harshly. Once they had called him SICK. But only once. But he realized that that one cruel insult helped him to remember his lover's kinder words all the more sweetly. He would spend all night gazing at his lover's face that way, and thinking thoughts of true love and devotion. Until the alarm clock rang, reminding him that he had to go to work. Reluctantly, he would put his lover's head back in the refrigerator where he kept it safe and secure while he was gone. The rest of his day would be an empty and unfulfilling one. Until the evening, when he could return home to his beloved. To embrace his lover. To make love to her, and too have sex with her rotting, severed head again. Then he would lay her on the pillow beside him so he could contemplate his lover's face again.

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ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:28 MDT

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HellHouse

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:28 MDT

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HellHouse - SCARYSTORYHELLHOUSE.jpg

HELL HOUSE This tale of terror begins with three teenagers who love being scared. They travel all over the country to find the ultimate fright challenge. They come upon a huge warehouse made into a fun house of horrors. They were told that some visitors that went in become victims or are scared to death. The dare was those that completed the maze of terror would get their hefty admission fee plus double of that. But no one ever has. Stepping into the dark, they are amerced into a satanic realm of ghosts, ghouls, and goblins. A macabre wonderland populated by faces of death. They are on the lookout for the chain saw maniac, and the fatal woman on the stairs. According to the house challenge, if you survive these terrors, you won the game. While the horrors are impressive, they don't stop one of the guys from moving ahead of the others. Determined to be the first one to beat the challenge. But just as the brave man shrugs off one of the animatronic attackers, A little surprise sends him tearing out of the haunt in panic. Now there were two. Suddenly a bit less confident, the others proceed. They Marvel at how ambitious this interactive horror show is. And can understand why the admission price is so high. Still they know its all just make believe, none of it was that terrifying, or was it? Suddenly one of the two on goers were overtaken by the darkness. And now there is only one. Now on his own, the most hard core fright fan ventures alone. His nerves on edge he tries to anticipate each gimmick. As he wonders deeper into the depths of darkness and terror. But his courage holds firm. Eventually he gets a bit cocky. Certain he's going to make it all the way through. Then as he turns the last corner, He's suddenly by the infamous fatal woman on the stairs. For a second he's thrown off by the shock. He recovers then realizes he only has one final terror to face. But as the final door opens, the house has the last word. The horror junky races off in terror. Weaving back through all the nightmares he's bravely endured. Try as they might, he and everybody else that has gone through, has failed the hell house challenge. It is said that the haunted house has a satanic curse put onto it. Suddenly all the doors inside lock trapping its victims. Some of the visitors that enter it, and also some of the monster actors become possessed by demonic demons. That take over the character's personality and using them to kill the trapped visitors. Their mutilated bodies to be used for props and displays for the next year haunted house opening. Hence the legend of the chain saw massacre, where the legend was born. And some other serial killers that have escaped the haunted house only to become the infamous human predators of today and tomorrow. IF YOU LIKED THIS STORY THEN RENT OR WATCH THE HORROR MOVIE CALLED SLASHERS. 2ND STORY THE FUNHOUSE Brian was crazy about the carnival. It came to his town at the middle of every summer and he never missed a year he hadn't gone to it. He knew every one of its rides and attractions by heart: the Ferris wheel, the gypsy fortuneteller, the shooting gallery, throw a dart and get a poster game, even the freak show. But Brian's favorite attraction was the funhouse. He could always spot it from the midway: a black building that looked like a clutter of giant shoe boxes of different sizes lying end to end. The weather beaten black exterior was decorated with garish drawings of victims being cased by all shorts of creatures into the mouth of hell. There was a drawing of a graveyard, populated by rotting corpses and other demons of darkness feasting on the rotting remains of the freshly dead. The monsters were painted in slashes of bright red, green, and black that seemed to glow brighter than any of the midway lights. The people being chased away looked like they were screaming at the top of their lungs. Brian liked nothing more than to be one of those people. He knew the layout of the funhouse by heart, and had for some time. But this year, something knew had been added. The end of the funhouse walk was lit by a solitary overhead strobe light bulb. Brian had spied a flutter of movement near the bulb. He had nearly reached the hall's end when he heard a loud creak, and something bulky dropped down from the ceiling. The light flared bright with shocking intensity, and Brian found himself standing face to face with a corpse dangling from the end of a noose. Hands slack at the sides suddenly reached up to grab him. AWESOME! Brian thought that he might be able to convince some friends to come and see the thing, before he remembered that tonight was the last night of the carnival. Then, he thought about how cool it would be to actually steal the corpse. He could just imagine the looks on his friends faces when they walked into his bedroom and saw a corpse hanging from the inside of his door! WICKED! Brian was scheming so hard that he didn't look where he was going on his way out and nearly tumbled over the man who ran the funhouse. The guy was a freak too. With misshapen muscular limbs and had a hump in his back that threw his whole posture out of alignment. The guy fixed him with an evil look. He was gargoyle-faced. But Brain never saw this man before. He was as new as the corpse in the funhouse-and about as ugly! From the look the guy gave him, it seemed as though he knew that Brian was thinking he belonged inside with the rest of the horrors. Brian felt a tingle of fear until the creep turned back to taking tickets from the next group of funhouse victims. Brian walked the fairgrounds for a few hours, killing time while he waited for the carnival to close. All the while, his thoughts were on the funhouse and how he might steal the dummy. At midnight, a voice came over the public speaker system telling the crowd that the carnival was closing down, and to please start heading home. Now was Brian's chance. When he'd left the funhouse, he'd seen the back door: just a loosely hanging piece of black canvas. It would be a cinch to sneak inside during the confusion of everyone leaving the fairgrounds. He could have the dummy in his hands in a few minutes and take it out through the front gates with him. Lots of other people were carrying huge stuffed animals, and no one would suspect that the dummy wasn't something he'd won at one of the games. The freaky creep that ran the funhouse probably wouldn't know that his dummy was missing until the next town they set up in-and then it would be too late for them to come back looking for it. By the time Brian reached the funhouse, the lights shining on the painted front were all off, and the gangplank leading up to it had chains across it. Brian made sure no one was looking, then ducked under the wires put up to keep people from straying off the path in front. With the lights off, it was darker in back than he had thought it would be. The back door to the funhouse beckoned, and Brian was surprised to discover that it was completely open. All he had to do was slip behind the flap and he was in. It was like they were begging someone to come in and rip them off. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light inside. He felt his way through along the walls, but the weird angles made him uncertain of where he was. He was feeling his way along the wall when something smacked him across the face. It was hairy and smelled disgusting as it pressed against his mouth. He spluttered and gagged against it. With a laugh, he realized it was a fake arm that had shot out of the wall. He remembered how he had dodged it during his earlier walk through. Brian felt a floorboard wobble beneath his shoe, and when he lifted his foot from it the arm pulled back. It was on some kind of spring that the funhouse visitor activated by stepping on the floor. That was probably the way all the funhouse frights worked. The dim red light was shining down on the hung corpse as Brian groped his way to it. They hadn't even bothered to hoist it back up after the last show. Probably just left it there so that it would be easier for the freak to take apart when they packed up the carnival the next day. He twisted the dummy around and saw it was locked into a harness with struts that extended into the arms. So that was how they made the arms seem like they were clutching at you as it bounced at the end of the rope. All Brain had to do was lift the dummy up to free the harness from the hook that attached it to the rope. Creaaaaaaaakkkkk! A floorboard sounded behind Brain. He instantly turned to stone. Creaaaaaaaakkkkk! There it was again. He thought about running back the way he had come. But he'd already put so much effort into getting this far, it would be a shame not to follow through. Creaaaaaaaakkkkk! It was only his nerves he thought. He was only scaring himself. There were probably lots of loose floorboards in the rickety building that were making the noise. The funhouse had scary things in it-but nothing real. Brian turned around and embraced the hanging corpse, his hands clasping just behind the harness. The thing's bobbing head nodded down and its face rested against his cheek. He felt the icy coldness of a mask. It was solid black plastic with a shiny surface that caught the light and reflected it's face in strange ways so that it would look like it was grinning or snarling back at you. Up close, he also realized the dummy had a rotting, musty smell to it. The hook didn't give easily, and Brian lost patience. He gave it a sharp tug. The dummy slipped out of his clumsy hands, and as he went to grab it he awkwardly pulled on one of the arms. Then he heard a ripping sound and felt it wrench free of its socket. He got upset after he found that he broke the dummy. The detached arm slithered out of the sleeve, the hand still snug in Brian's grasp. It had a knob like bump protruding from its end, and Brian held it up to the strobe light. Then he dropped it as though it were red hot. IT WAS A BONE! A REAL HUMAN BONE! The dummy spun around and Brian hesitantly reached up and flipped off the plastic mask. The face behind it was mummified, the skin gray with the texture of leather, was stretched over its face in an expression of pure terror and agony A filthy gag was tied around its mouth. Its skin was dried out and the eyes were sunken in. Brian removed the corpse's gag and could make out its decayed, but human skeletal teeth in the gaping mouth. THIS WAS NO DUMMY! Brian stepped back, gagging. Then a pair of hands reached out from the wall behind him and grabbed him! He stepped off the board, trying to make them retract and let go of him, but no matter how his feet danced over the floorboards surface the arms held tight. Then one of them grabbed him by the hair and roughly spun him around. Staring back at Brian was the leering face of the freaky creep that ran the funhouse! The man smiled at him wickedly, and laughed. Then he brought down something hard and painful on Brian's skull. When Brain finally came to, he found that he could not move his limbs. They were bound to something hard and unyielding. His chest felt constricted, as though there were cords wrapped around it, attaching to something behind him. And a nasty tasting piece of cloth stretched around his mouth, making it difficult for him to make any noise. Brian felt himself twirled around and came face-to-face with the funhouse creep. The man stared back at him and stroked his face with the dirty fingernails of his hand. "Such a good-looking boy, much better looking then that overused bag of bones that you desecrated, but too childish for your own good." Said the freak. Brian tried to scream but could muster no more than a gurgle against the wadded cloth in his mouth. He flailed his legs, only to find that he was no longer standing on the creaking floorboards of the funhouse. He was several feet above them. The freaky creep tugged Brian's head roughly, forcing him to look down at the shriveled remains of the real funhouse corpse, lying on the floor. What a shame Brian was such a mischievous boy. And how sad that he'd gone poking into things he shouldn't have, just like the last mischievous boy that the freaky creep took care of. Now Brian would have to replace what he had broken. The freak snapped something over Brian's face. Something dark and tight. Something cold and plastic that would hide his tears. When Brian awoke again to the sounds of creaking floorboards, pure terror overtook him as he realized that the sounds came from a group of funhouse visitors. He dreaded their footsteps as they came closer and closer. He tried to struggle, he tried to scream. Suddenly, Brian heard a quick clicking sound that released a spring. Then, Brain felt the support he was standing on give way and he plummeted into complete darkness. Brian's disappearance was a complete mystery to his family and friends. Eventually they gave up the search for him, and assumed he ran away with the carnival.

The Cave

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:27 MDT

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The Cave - SCARYSTORYTHECAVE.jpg

DEAD MAN'S CAVE Jake stopped on the narrow, shadowy trail that led to Dead Man's Cave. He turned around to face his younger brother Peter, who was following close behind. Peter's eyes looked scared, and his brown freckles stood out against his pale, sweating skin. "Where are we going?" Peter asked, his eyes nervously darting from one side of the path to the other. "You know," Jake answered, staring at him long and hard. "Come on, Jake, you're just kidding, aren't you?" Peter asked. He looked as though he might start crying at any moment. "No, I'm not kidding," Jake said. "We're going to Dead Man's Cave." He reached up, snapped off a branch from an overhanging tree, and switched it back and forth in the air. "But, Jake," Peter pleaded. "You know those stories about Dead Man's Cave. . . ." "I don't believe those old stories anymore," Jake snapped. "There aren't any ghosts in that old cave. Nothing's going to come out and grab us. Parents just say those things to scare kids." "Well, if the stories aren't true, then why's it called Dead Man's Cave?" Peter asked. "Because a bunch of miners were killed there in a cave-in years ago," Jake said, starting down the trail again. "Come on, let's get moving." He glanced back to see if Peter was following. Peter was right behind him, same as always. Ever since they were little kids, Peter had been like Jake's pet dog, following him everywhere. Jake hadn't planned on going to Dead Man's cave today. He had just woken up that morning knowing he was going to do it. Summer vacation was almost over, and when he went back to school, he wanted to have something to brag about to his friends. Most of all, he wanted to do the thing that his father had forbidden most. Jake stopped again to get his bearings. The trail had led into a stand of fir trees that blotted out the sun overhead. A wind came out of nowhere, stirring the branches up and down like huge flapping arms. "How do you know where we're going?" Peter asked in a trembling voice. "This has to be the way," Jake said. "Dad warned me enough times to stay away from here. And I found an old map at home. Dead Man's Cave is marked on it in dark red ink. We're going in the right direction . . . I know it." Jake picked up the trail again on the far side of the clearing. He thought it was strange that the trail even still existed. After all, no one was supposed to come to Dead Man's Cave anymore. Jake motioned Peter to hurry up and then set off down the narrow trail that twisted into a gully. Behind him, Peter was whimpering, "Jake, let's turn back." "Go ahead, if you want," Jake answered. He knew Peter would never go back alone. He was too scared, and he was sure to get lost. The path was getting harder and harder to see now. Even Jake wasn't sure what direction they were going in anymore. The trail leveled out in a heavily wooded forest at the bottom of the gully. The plants on the ground had changed from a bright green to a sickly greenish yellow. Toadstools grew around the thick tree trunks, some of them speckled with dark orange spots. Jake looked up at the twisted branches of the dark trees overhead. They twined together like a spider's web over the path. There was a heavy, sickly sweet odor in the air, like the smell of something rotting, and strange insects crawled across the damp forest floor. For the first time, Jake felt a current of fear pass through his body. He thought of the nightmares he'd had about Dead Man's Cave, ever since his parents had first told him about it. He wiped his hand across his forehead and noticed that his fingers were trembling. Before he could be tempted to turn back, he quickly walked through the trees toward a wall of brown and yellow ferns. "Let's go home," Peter whimpered again from behind. But it was too late. Just beyond the wall of ferns, Jake came to a sudden stop at the edge of a dark, deep hole. It was Dead Man's Cave, yawning down into the earth like an evil mouth. Jake felt Peter's cold fingers wrap around his arm. "This is it," Jake whispered. He stared down into the deep pit that led to the mouth of the cave. There was something down there that he was determined to find. His father had told him about it. Something was just inside the cave that nobody had ever brought back. Jake didn't know what it was . . . but he planned to find out. "Okay, we've seen it," Peter whispered. "Now let's get out of here." He tugged on Jake's arm and tried to pull him away from the edge. "No, I'm going down," Jake said. "There's something I've got to get." He jerked his arm out of Peter's grip and grabbed hold of a bush that grew along the edge of the pit. Then he started climbing down toward Dead Man's Cave. Peter leaned over the edge and yelled, "Get out!" Deep, ghostly voices echoed back out of the pit, Get Out Get Out Get Out. For a moment, Jake froze. He told himself that the voices had to be an echo. But they didn't sound like Peter. They sounded like the voices he'd heard in his nightmares. Jake looked up at Peter's face, peering over the edge of the pit. It was bleached white as a sheet. "Go away!" Jake yelled at him angrily. The voices breathed the words back at him, over and over, GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY. Jake was too scared to move. Then something cold and slimy crawled over his hand. He looked down and saw a striped snake slither into a crack near his arm. With a scream, he jerked away his hand and fell down onto a ledge five feet below. Scrambling to his feet, he searched the rocks around him. He had never thought about snakes in Dead Man's Cave. Not even in his nightmares. Another snake slithered across his foot. Jake jumped to the side and fell, twisting his leg under him. Painfully, he picked himself up and crept down toward the cave. From the top of the pit, Peter shouted down another warning. "Don't do it!" Jake froze, waiting for the voices. This time, they screamed at him, DON'T DO IT DON'T DO IT DON'T DO IT. Jake was too close to turn back now. He ran on toward the mouth of Dead Man's Cave with the echoing voices chasing after him. Finally, he reached the cave and fell on his knees in front of it. It was pitch-black inside, like an invisible curtain had been pulled down over it. Jake reached out his hand into the cave. He felt cold air, like a dead man's breath, creep over his skin. He dropped his fingers to the cave floor, but all he felt was a squirming mass of baby spiders. Jake jerked away his hand in disgust; then, steeling his nerves, he searched the cave floor again. His fingers closed around something hard and cold. Trembling, he pulled it out into the light. It was a skull -- a human skull -- covered with green mold. The eye sockets were empty holes and the yellow teeth were set in a weird grin. A crawling beetle was coming out between one of the open gaps where a tooth had rotted away. With a shudder, Jake held it up for Peter to see. "It's mine," he yelled in triumph. A strange silence hung over the pit. Jake looked around, waiting for the echoing voices. "It's mine!," he shouted again even louder than before. But Dead Man's Cave was as quiet as a tomb. Jake looked back at the moldy skull sitting in his shaking hands. As he stared at it, the eyes began to glow a neon green and the yellow teeth suddenly opened wide into a deathly grin. Then the skull whispered at Jake in a mocking voice, "No,YOUR mine!" The last thing Jake heard was the skull's demonic laughter echoing over and over against the walls of the pit. Then a ton of stones came crashing down, burying Jake forever in Dead Man's Cave.

Demon 2

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:26 MDT

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Demon 2 - SCARYSTORYDEMON2.jpg

SCREAMS IN THE DARK She was my best friend. But I try never to think about her. It's only on certain nights, when I'm all alone in my room, that I remember... It was last year when my best friend asked me to stay at her house overnight. She lived in a big, gloomy house set way back in the woods far from the road. And she didn't want to be alone there at night. Her parents had gone out that evening and wouldn't be back until the next afternoon. My friend said we could have a really good time without her parents around. So I decided to stay the night. We watched TV and ate popcorn in the living room until late at night. When all of a sudden the power went out. We were in total darkness We got scared. We hadn't noticed it before, but now the downstairs seemed too big, and almost sinister looking. They could only find one single candle in which to light their way to bed. They started to go upstairs. Then all of a sudden, they both ran up the steps to my friend's room as if something was coming up from behind us. After they closed the door, they laughed at themselves. The two girls were not dismayed. Especially my friend, who was more venturesome. They lay chatting for a time in the candle's feeble light. When suddenly, they thought they heard a sound from somewhere below. It sounded like somebody sharpening a knife against stone. Then they heard another sound. A sound as of someone moving about the house. We both stopped talking and stared at each other, feeling really scared inside. For a while there was only silence in the room. I was frightened. But my friend started to laugh. She said she had heard a sound like that in her house before. She said it was probably the shutters or something. That made me feel better and we started to talk again. Then we heard it again! SCRRITCH. SCRRITCH. The sound made my head hurt as if somebody's fingernails were scratching on a chalkboard. But this sound was much worse. It shrieked up from the dark, lonely rooms below us. SCRRITCH. My friend got a horrible look in her eyes, as though something horrible had come into her head. My friend said that she was going down to investigate. I tried to per swayed her. But before I could catch her, she took the candle and departed out of the room, slamming the door shut. Ignoring my pleas not to go downstairs. Leaving me alone in absolute darkness. I heard her footsteps as she ran down the first flight of stairs, and then stop. I sat in the dark, sick with fright. I called out my friend's name but my voice was greeted by only cold silence. I didn't want to stay in the dark room alone, but even more I didn't want to go out into that other more forbidding darkness. SCRRAITCH. I heard it again, that disgusting sound. Then I heard my friend's footsteps. Moving down the next and final flight of stairs. She went more slowly, as if she really didn't want to. I heard her reach the bottom. I waited in the room, wondering what my friend was doing. I told myself she must be all right. You see, the noise had stopped right after I heard her reach the bottom of the stairs. It didn't come after that anymore. My friend probably had just fixed the shutter, or whatever was making that horrible screeching noise. Maybe she had known for sure about that all the time. She had just acted strangely to scare me. Maybe she was sitting on the steps now, laughing at me. I thought about going down myself, but A feeling of fear swept over me that held me back like a hand against my throat. I decided I would wait where I was for my friend to return. I would wait here until her parent's returned, if necessary. Nothing could make me leave my secure darkness for that darker unknown outside the room. Time passed as I fearfully awaited my friends return. My ears strained for any sound and my nerves tingled at imagined shadows. Presently after a long silence I heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. A slow, shuffling noise on the bottom step. Was it my friend? It had to be. Yet the footsteps seemed to heavy, too deliberate. My heart began to pound and for a moment I lost control of my mind. It flew to the most horrible corners of my imagination and I shivered with terror. I decided If it was my friend I would get her back, for playing this awful trick on me. And if it wasn't, well there was nothing I could do...The shuffling footsteps had reached the second flight of stairs. I coward back toward the back board of the bed in terror. I felt the skin crawl on the back of my neck as the footsteps reached the top of the stairs and moved slowly down the hall towards the room I was in. They came along the hall and turned into the room. My eyes forced wide awaken from a panic state of shocked horror, as the door creaked slightly as it swung open. I stared at the dark figure looming in the doorway. She called out to her friend, but there was no answer as the steps came out across the bedroom. She laughed anxiously and begged her friend not to play jokes on her. But only silence answered as the footsteps paused beside the bed. She reached out her hand and felt a wave of relief as it touched the soft edge of her friend's dressing gown. She was so happy. She no longer wanted to scare her friend back. She lifted her hand around her friend's nightgown collar to touch her friend's face. But instead felt something cold and wet... As her fingers moved up there was nothing. Only the bloody stump where her friend's head had been. SHE SCREAMED AND SCREAMED. When the parents arrived back home, there eyes were seared by a dreadful sight. On the stairs a trail of blood. The footsteps leading upward. And on the floor in the girl's bedroom, lay my friend's corpse, it's head severed from the trunk. And on the bed the girl sat. . Her lips mumbling the torched fancies of a maniac. In time the police officials pieced the story together from her ravings of what happened on that awful night. But she remained completely mad. The deed was contributed to a homicidal lunatic. Who had just escaped from the nearby sanatorium. THE DEADLY DARE Josh, Robert, and Bret were sophomores in high school and best friends. They lived in the same neighborhood and did almost everything together. One of their favorite things to do was to camp out in the woods at the end of their street. They would take their sleeping bags and sleep under the stars. They loved telling each other scary stories around the campfire. One day Josh and Robert were bragging to some of the kids at school about their latest camping trip. "Our camping trips are great," Josh said. "of course, a lot of people might be afraid of being out there alone. You have to be a certain kind of guy to be able to stay out there in the woods overnight. Like just last weekend, we saw a wolf." "Yeah," Robert added. "It was a huge wolf, and we got so close to it that we could have reached out and touched it." Bret came down the hall and saw the group gathered around his two friends. Sure, he had done his share of bragging about their camp outs, but this wolf story the guys were telling was a little too much. Actually, what they had seen was a runaway German shepherd. It even had a collar around its neck. "Oh come on, you guys. They don't need to know about all of that." Bret said. He wanted to change the subject before somebody found out they were exaggerating the truth. Then the other kids would tease them. But it was too late. "Hey!" came the voice of Andy Seibert, a senior. "If you sophomores are so brave, why don't you stay out in the real woods?" "What do you mean, Andy?" asked Josh. "My older brother has a cabin up at Lake Montuak in the state forest. If you're so brave, then why don't you stay there by yourselves for a night? Since you're so friendly with wolves, you should feel right at home there. And there are bears and cougars there, too-- not to mention the state prison down the road a few miles. I bet 25 dollars you won't spend a night in that cabin alone." The three friends couldn't stand to hear the crowd of kids laughing at what Andy said. Bret could tell the kids didn't think they'd spend the night in the cabin. All Bret knew was he didn't really like the idea of all those wild animals outside the cabin, plus the state prison down the road. Bret's heart skipped a beat when he heard Robert say, "Well, we accept. That will be a piece of cake." "Yeah," added Josh. "Get that 25 dollars ready." "Yeah, sure," teased Andy. "It'll be a piece of cake. Hey, I'll even drive you there myself." Bret went along with his buddies. But he still felt uneasy. After all, he knew the difference between a German shepherd and a wolf. He wondered if Josh and Robert did. Late Friday afternoon, Andy drove the three boys to the cabin. When they stopped at a gas station deep in the woods, the man at the pumps saw their sleeping bags in the back of the car. "Be careful if you're going to be out in the woods this weekend," the man said. "The man on the radio's saying that a man escaped from the prison yesterday. He's armed and dangerous." Then the man lowered his voice and looked around, like he was afraid somebody might hear him. Who could hear him? Thought Bret. We're all alone out here in the middle of nowhere. "They say the escaped guy's a little crazy, too," said the gas station man in a low voice. "He killed a whole family up in the northern part of the state." "I wonder how much Andy paid this guy to tell us that?" Robert whispered to Josh and Bret. "He's just trying to scare us." "Yeah," answered Josh. "And he's a lousy actor, too. That whispering bit is hokey!" They Finally reached the little cabin after a long drive up a dirt road deep in the woods. They got out of the car and stretched their legs. As Andy was helping the others unload their gear, he said, "listen, you guys. I've been thinking about what the guy at the gas station said about that escaped murderer. If you want to call the whole thing off, that's okay with me. I won't tell anybody." Bret started to say he was willing to call it off but Josh butted in first. "Nice try, Andy," he said. "But you're still trying to scare us into not staying here. Then you'll tell everybody at school that we chickened out." "Yeah," added Robert. "It won't work. Just like that thing with the guy at the gas station who you told to scare us didn't work." What are you guys talking about?" Andy asked. "I didn't tell him to say anything. I'm just trying to help you out if there's something dangerous up here." "we'll, we don't need you're help," said Robert. "Just be here tomorrow morning to pick us up. But don't come back too early. We might want to sleep late," he joked. "And have that 25 dollars ready!" shouted Josh. "You guys are still talking big," said Andy. "Don't say I didn't give you a chance to back out." Bret wished his friends hadn't been such big mouths in saying no to Andy's offer to leave. But what could he do now? He couldn't back out himself, or his friends would never let him forget it. Before getting in his car, Andy gave Josh a flare gun. "Don't let anybody in the cabin, and keep the door and windows locked," he explained. "And if you get into any trouble, just shoot off this flare. Someone's bound to see it." The three boys watched the taillights of Andy's car disappear down the dirt road in the twilight. The sun had just set over the tops of the tall pine trees, and it was getting dark fast. The three friends settled quickly into the cabin, stowed their gear away, and started a fire to heat some of the cans of food they had brought with them. After they ate, they talked about what an easy bet they had made, and they began to plan how they were going to spend the 25 dollars they would win. "We should have bet him 50 dollars!" said Robert with a laugh. About 10:00, the fire started to die down. The boys realized that someone needed to go out and collect some firewood in the woods. "I'll go," offered Robert. "It'll only take a few minutes," he said, pulling on his coat. "Maybe two of us should go," Bret said. "Remember what the guy at the gas station said." "You're a chicken!" hooted Josh. "That was all an act that Andy set up. Don't tell me you believe it!" "well," said Bret. "I didn't say I believed it. I--uh--just think we should be careful, that's all." "Hey, don't worry about it, Brettie. I'll go with Robert," Josh teased. "We'll be back to tuck you in and read you a bedtime story in a few minutes. You didn't forget to pack your teddy bear, did you?" added Robert. Josh and Robert were laughing their heads off. "Ah, knock it off, you guys," said Bret angrily. "At least take this flare gun with you." He handed the flare to Josh. The boys went out the door and vanished into the darkness around the cabin. After they had been gone for what seemed like a long time, Bret started to get worried. He looked out the window. But he saw nothing--just the faint outlines of the tall pine trees against the pitch black sky. "Where are they?" Bret wondered out loud. "There was plenty of wood right around the cabin." Then it struck him that Josh and Robert were trying to scare him. That's just like them, he thought. They're trying to make me think something's happened to them. They think I'm a chicken. About 10 minutes later, Bret suddenly heard muffled screams coming from the woods. "Go Ahead, you jerks," said Bret. "You can't scare me." After another 15 minutes, Bret heard a loud pop, and the night sky lighted up. "The flare!" exclaimed Bret. "Now they're trying to get me to go out there." But then he heard nothing for almost an hour. His watch said it was past 11:00. The joke, if it was a joke, had gone on too long. It wasn't funny anymore. Where were they? Bret had decided to open the door and call to his friends, when he heard a sound outside. It was the sound of heavy footsteps thudding up toward the cabin door. There was another sound, too, like something was being dragged across the gravel in front of the cabin. It was coming closer. Now Bret was terrified. He felt deep in his bones that this wasn't a joke. He knew something horrible had happened to his friends. He started to pile up against the cabin door everything he could find--the heavy wooden bed from the corner, the table and chairs, Their backpacks. He even blew out the lantern and cowered near the still-warm fireplace in the dark. The dragging sounds got louder and louder. When he heard a heavy thud on the front porch, he thought that it was all over for him. He tried to make himself small enough to hide in the corner of the cabin. He couldn't stop shaking. He tried to scream, but no sound would come out. And when he thought he couldn't be more afraid, he heard, from behind the pile of furniture at the cabin door, a scratching. The prisoner's trying to get in! Bret thought in horror. Then he heard a moaning that didn't even sound human. Bret shrunk into the corner, expecting every moment to be his last, expecting the murderer to break in the door at any moment. The scratching and moaning went on for what seemed like forever. Bret was too terrified to even look at his watch. All he could do was bury his head in his hands to keep out the horrible sound of the escaped man trying to get in and kill him, like he had killed Josh and Robert. Bret must have fallen asleep or fainted from fear. He woke up the next morning to the sound of a horn beeping in front of the cabin. He heard nothing else--no scratching, no moaning. He stood up stiffly from his hiding spot near the fireplace and walked to the cabin window. He saw Andy sitting in his car. He was blowing his horn and calling out Bret's name. Feeling a tremendous sense of relief, Bret began furiously cleaning away the furniture from the door. He never wanted to spend another night in a cabin as long as he lived. Bret flung open the door and started to run toward Andy's car. But before Bret even stepped out on the porch, he saw why Andy had stayed in his car. There on the porch, next to the door, lay the bodies of Josh and Robert. Their heads were crushed in. And heir fingers were bloody from having scratched on the door to get in. The Night of the Sasquatch In the mountain wilderness of Idaho, a group of Boy Scouts was on its annual winter camp-out. The trip was to last five days. They would hike for two days into the snowy wilderness, stay a third day at a remote cabin, and then start the journey back. Only the best Scouts could be allowed to make the trip. Each fall the boys who wanted to go on the camp-out had to pass a rigorous wilderness survival test. Leading the group was an Indian named Katooni, a member of the Nes Perc'e tribe. An expert on the wilderness, Katooni was the descendant of people who had lived here long before the white man had come. He knew all the stories and legends about the mountains. Many Scouts made the long trip just to listen to Katooni tell his tales. After two full days of hiking and an overnight stay in pup tents, the Scouts reached the remote cabin. To the weary boys, it looked like a castle. Inside were a number of bunk beds, on which they rolled out their sleeping bags. Soon a huge fire was roaring in the stone fireplace. The Scouts were able to thaw out in front of the fire and cook a hot meal. The cabin seemed a safe and cozy haven. Later that night, the boys gathered around Katooni beside the fire. In a low voice, he started relating some bit of ancient Indian lore. The room smelled lightly of smoke. The golden glow of the fire made shadows dance on Katooni's lined face. The Indian spoke about his tribe and the battles they had fought to keep their lands. As the boys hung on every word, he told them about his people's belief that sprits lived in rocks and trees and animals. and then he told them about Sasquatch. "The Sasquatch never show themselves to men," said Katooni. "They live high in the mountains, away from civilization. But they have fewer places to go now. There are too many people." "What do the Sasquatch look like?" asked one of the Scouts. "They are tall, bigger than most men. Hair covers their bodies, and they have a strange Smell. They fear nothing. They just want to be left alone. But if you threaten them, they will attack you without mercy." Another boy spoke up. "Have you ever seen one?" Katooni Looked into the fire. "I have seen their tracks a few times," he said. "The track is like a man's foot, only much bigger, with claws. I have seen the Sasquatch itself, just once. Many years ago, not far from this place." The boys sat quietly, A few shuddering at the thought of meeting a Sasquatch. Suddenly, a mournful wail from deep in the forest pierced the silence. "Wooooooooooooo00000." Katooni sat upright, cocking his head, his hand held to his ear. The Scouts started to murmur. "Quiet!" commanded the Indian. "Wooooooooooooooo." The unearthly cry echoed through the night. "A wolf," said the Indian. "Enough stories. Time to sleep." The Scouts crawled into their sleeping bags, but it was a long while before anyone could fall asleep. The next day, the boys had forgotten all about the wolf. They romped in the snow, cut firewood, and cleaned out the cabin. They were so busy they didn't notice that Katooni had slipped away alone. But by the time of the evening meal, groups of two and three boys were going off in different directions calling for Katooni. They returned at dark. Their leader was nowhere to be found. The boys ate their supper in silence. Some of the younger Scouts were frightened. The older boys tried to quiet their fears. "Katooni knows how to take care of himself," said one. "He'll be back soon." "Yeah, but why did he leave us alone?" Asked another. No one had an answer. During the evening, the Scouts took turns looking out the window, shining a flashlight into the wilderness. As the sun had set it had begun to snow lightly at first, but now more heavily. The flashlight beam reflected only the large, fluffy flakes. In a corner of the room, three of the Eagle Scouts tried to figure out what to do next. The troop had planned to stay in the cabin two nights and one day. They were due to leave tomorrow. Instead, they would have to stay and send out search parties to look for Katooni. But on the following day, they would have to start their hike back. They did not have enough food to stay any longer. As the boys made their plans, the forest suddenly echoed with the same wail everyone had heard the night before. "Wooooooooooooooooooooo." "That doesn't sound like a wolf to me," one Eagle Scout told the other. "It doesn't even sound like a coyote," replied the other. "It almost sounds . . . human!" The Scouts broke into search parties the next day. They wandered about the forest all day, calling Katooni's name, but the hunt was fruitless. The snow continued to fall, and by evening nearly a foot had been added to what was already on the ground. The younger boys were clearly worried about Katooni, although they had confidence the Eagle Scouts would get them back home safely. It was dark when the Scouts were finishing their supper. The snow had stopped, and the sky had cleared. a full moon cast a bluish light on the new-fallen snow. "Wooooooooooooooooooooo" the boys froze when they heard the wail. This time, they were sure it was much closer. Too close. With no warning whatsoever, the door of the cabin burst open. Standing in the doorway was Katooni. His heavy coat was shredded and stained with blood. His face had been Mauled. He stumbled weakly and grabbed the door for support. "Sasquatch!' he groaned. In another moment, he slid to the floor. Behind him stood the creature itself--tall, covered with hair, and giving off a choking stench! Three days later, a couple of rangers made it to the cabin on snowmobiles. Alarmed when the boys had not returned, the Scouts' parent had alerted the authorities. Calling to the boys, the rangers approached the cabin. They pushed open the door and looked around in surprise. The boys' sleeping bags were still spread out on the bunks. Remnants of food lay half-eaten in mess kits. Coats and boots were scattered about. But there was no sign of life. Only a small blood stain on the floor by the door pointed to foul play. The Scouts had simply vanished. The rangers circled the area on their snowmobiles, but there were no leads to follow the snowstorm had obliterated any tracks that might have been there. Using their mobile radio, they called back their unfortunate news, then prepared to stay the night. the rangers had just finished eating supper when they heard it. "Woooooooooooooooooooo."

Graveyard

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:24 MDT

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Graveyard - SCARYSTORYTHEGRAVEYARD.jpg

A WALK IN THE CEMETERY The girl was late getting home for supper. So she took a shortcut through the cemetery. But, oh, it made her nervous. When she saw another girl ahead of her, she hurried to catch up. "Do you mind if I walk with you?" she asked. "Walking through the cemetery at night scares me." "I know what you mean," the other girl said. "I use to feel that way myself when I was alive." EVERLASTING LOVE OF A BROKEN HEART People fear what they don't understand, but some things are best kept alone. Three teenaged girls take a shortcut through a cemetery. But in this land of the dead there is one statue that invokes a sad story. the woman was named Agnus, and was buried there many years ago. According to legend she died of a broken heart after her lover jolted her on their wedding night. One of the girls is unimpressed by the tale, so her friends make a bet. That their friend couldn't spend a night alone at the foot of the statue. Wanting to fit in and prove her friends wrong, She decides to take the bet. In fact she'll sleep there that very same night. Later as the sun begins to set, she arrives at the sight of the statue, with her supplies for the night. A bed sheet, a pillow, a flashlight, and one of her nightmare club series book to read. She sets up a little sleeping spot, confident that nothing will scare her away. Just as she is laying down, a hand reaches from behind and grabs her. Scared out of her shirt, she jumps up and spins around to find her friends playing a trick on her. Her friends think they are funny but she is annoyed and insists that she's not scared. It's then that her friends decide to tell her the other half of the story. Agnus died a bitter woman, having been dumped by her lover. So she decided that if her boyfriend wasn't going to sleep with her, then no one else would get to either. Because of that, no one could survive a night at the statue's feet, without becoming a victim of the vengeful ghost. Unscathed by this non sense The girl makes herself comparable on her blanket, and tells her friends to check back in the morning. Her friends tell her they will see them two in the morning, with a sarcastic MAYBE! And wish their friend a final farewell. As the light fades to black, the night seems to close in around her. The air grows chilly and damp. The moonlight drains away the colors, and every shape and sound seems to taunt her. Daring her to give up and go home. She shines her flashlight through darken shadows. All the while the statue looms coldly overhead. Nervous as she is, it takes a long time before she finally falls asleep. The next morning her friends return to the grave sight. And are surprised to see their brave friend still sleeping beneath the statue. They can't believe it! She had actually spent the night there! As they sneak up on her to give her one last fright, they make a horrifying discovery. Their friend is dead. At first they thought that she might of died of fright. But upon close inspection, they find bruises around her neck. As if some super human force strangled her in her sleep. Even more chilling are the newspaper reports of the death. Which explained that the victim was a direct decedent of the man who had cheated on Agnus. Even in death love has its final revenge. Death is the gift that ends our tears.

Chairs

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:23 MDT

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Chairs - SCARYSTORYCHAIRS.jpg

THE STRANGEST JIGSAW PUZZLE It was on the top shelf on an old bookcase, covered with dust and barely visible. Lisa decided she had to find out what it was. Of all the things in the old junk shop, it aroused her curiosity most. She had looked through old books, prints, and postcards for hours. Nothing had caught her interest. Now the old box, high and out of reach, intrigued her. She looked around for the old man who ran the store. But he had gone into the back room. She saw a stepladder across the room and brought it over to the bookcase. It shook on the uneven floorboards as she climbed to the top step. Lisa patted her hand along the surface of the top shelf, trying to find the box. The dirt was thick and gritty on the board. Then she touched the box. It was made of cardboard. The cardboard was cold and soft from being in the damp room for such a long time. She lifted the box down slowly, trying to steady her balance on the stepladder. As the side of the box reached her eye level, she could read the words: 500 pieces. She sat the box down on top of the stepladder and climbed down a few steps. Then she blew away some of the dust that had accumulated on the lid. It billowed up around her with a musty, dead odor. But now she could make out a few more words on top of the box: THE STRANGEST JIGSAW PUZZLE IN THE WORLD. There were other words underneath that, but they had been rubbed off the cardboard lid. The big picture on the cover had been curiously damaged. Lisa could make out areas of light and dark. It looked as though the scene might be in a room. But most of the picture had been scratched off the cardboard box, probably by a sharp instrument. The mysterious nature of the jigsaw puzzle made it even more appealing to Lisa. She decided she would buy it. The lid was taped down securely; that probably meant that all the pieces would be there. As she carefully climbed down the stepladder, holding the box in both hands, Lisa smiled to herself. It was quite a find, just the sort of thing she had always hoped to discover while rummaging through secondhand stores. The owner of the store came out of the back room as she was walking up to his sales desk. He looked curiously at the box when Lisa set it down. "And where did you find that?" he asked her. Lisa pointed to where she had set up the stepladder. "It was on the top of that bookcase. You could barely see it from the floor." "Well. I've never seen it before, that's for sure," the shopkeeper said. "Can't imagine how you found it." Lisa was more pleased than ever about her find. She felt as though the puzzle had been hiding up there, waiting for her to discover it. She paid the shopkeeper the twenty-five cents he asked for the puzzle and then wrapped it carefully in the newspapers he gave her to take it home in. It was late on a Saturday afternoon. Lisa lived alone in a small room in an old apartment house. She had no plans for Saturday night. Now she decided to spend the whole evening working on the puzzle. She stopped at a food mart and bought some bologna, bread, cheese, ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise, to make her favorite sandwich. She would eat while she put the puzzle together. As soon as she had climbed the flight of stairs to her room and put away the groceries, Lisa cleaned off the big table in the center of the room. She set the box down on it. THE STRANGEST JIGSAW PUZZLE IN THE WORLD Lisa read the words again. She wondered what they could mean. How strange could a jigsaw puzzle be? The tape that held the lid down was still strong. Lisa got out a kitchen knife to slice through it. When she lifted the cover off the box, a musty smell came from inside. But the jigsaw pieces all looked in good condition. Lisa picked one up. The color was faded, but the picture was clear. She could see the shape of a finger in the piece. It looked like a woman's finger. Lisa sat down and started to lay out the pieces, top side up, on the large table. As she took them from the box, she sorted out the flat-edged pieces from the inside pieces. Every so often, she would recognize something in one of the pieces. She saw some blonde hair, a window pane, and a small vase. There was a lot of wood texture in the pieces, plus what looked like wallpaper. Lisa noticed that the wallpaper in the puzzle looked a lot like the wallpaper in her own room. She wondered if her wallpaper was as old as the jigsaw puzzle. It would be an incredible coincidence, but it could be the same. By the time Lisa had all the pieces laid out on the table, it was beginning to get dark outside, dusk was beginning to settle over the evening sky. She got up and made herself a sandwich. Already, her back was beginning to hurt a little from leaning over the table. But she couldn't stay away from the Puzzle. She went back to the table and set her sandwich down beside her. It was always like that when she did jigsaws. Once she started, she couldn't stop until the puzzle was all put together. She began to sort out the edge pieces according to their coloring. There were dark brown pieces, whitish pieces, the wallpaper pieces, and some pieces that seemed to be like glass-perhaps a window. As she slowly ate her sandwich, Lisa pieced together the border. When she was finished, she knew she had been right about the setting of the picture when she had first seen the puzzle. It was a room. One side of the border was wallpaper. Lisa decided to fill that in first. She was curious about its resemblance to her own wallpaper. She gathered all the pieces together that had the blue and lilac flowered design. As she fit the pieces together, it became clear that the wallpaper in the puzzle was identical to the wallpaper in her room. Lisa glanced back and forth between the puzzle and her wall. It was an exact match. By now it was already dark outside. Lisa leaned back in her chair. Her back was stiff. She looked over at her window. The night was pitch black outside. Lisa got up and walked over to the window. Suddenly, she felt uneasy, alone in the apartment. She pulled the white shade over the window. She paced around the room once, trying to think of something else she might do than finish the puzzle. But nothing else interested her. She went back and sat down at the table. Next she started to fill in the lower right-hand corner. There was a rug and then a chair. This part of the puzzle was very dark. Lisa noticed uneasily that the chair was the same shape as the one sitting in the corner of her room. But the colors didn't seem exactly the same. Her chair was maroon. The one in the puzzle was in the shadows and seemed almost black. Lisa continued to fill in the border toward the middle. There was more wallpaper to finish on top. The left-hand side did turn out to be a window. Through it, a full moon hung in a dark sky. But it was the bottom of the puzzle that began to bother Lisa. As the pieces fell into place, she saw a picture of a pair of legs, crossed underneath a table. They were the legs of a young woman. Lisa reached down and ran her hand along one of her legs. Suddenly, she had felt as though something was crawling up it, but it must have been her imagination. She stared down at the puzzle. It was almost three quarters done. Only the middle remained. Lisa glanced at the lid to the puzzle box: THE STRANGEST JIGSAW . . . She shuddered. Lisa leaned back in her chair again. Her back ached. Her neck muscle were tense and strained. She thought about quitting the puzzle. It scared her now. She stood up and stretched. Then she looked down at the puzzle on the table. It looked different from the higher angle. Lisa was shocked by what she saw. Her body began to tremble all over. It was unmistakable-the picture in the puzzle was of her own room. The window was placed correctly in relation to the table. The bookcase stood in its exact spot against the wall. Even the carved table legs were the same . . . Lisa raised her hand to knock the pieces of the puzzle apart. She didn't want to finish THE STRANGEST JIGSAW PUZZLE IN THE WORLD; she didn't want to find out what the hole in the middle of the puzzle might turn out to be. But then she lowered her hand. Perhaps it was worse not to know. Perhaps it was worse to wait and wonder. Lisa sank back down into the chair at the table. She fought off the fear that crept into the sore muscles of her back. Deliberately, piece by piece, she began to fill in the hole in the puzzle. She put together a picture of a table, on which lay a jigsaw puzzle. This puzzle inside the puzzle was finished. But Lisa couldn't make out what it showed. She pieced together the young woman who was sitting at the table-the young woman had the same hair color as Lisa, but the woman's face was blurred. As she filled in the picture, her own body slowly filled with horror and dread. It was all there in the picture . . . the vase filled with red and yellow flowers, same as hers. Her own sweater that she was wearing. The wild look of fear in her own face that she now had. The jigsaw puzzle lay before her-finished except for two adjoining pieces. They were dark pieces, ones she hadn't been able to fit into the area of the window. Lisa looked behind her. The white blind was drawn over her window. With relief, she realized that the puzzle picture was not exactly like her room. It showed the black night behind the window pane and a full moon shining in the sky. Through her window she could see no moon was in the sky. With trembling hands, Lisa reached for the second to last piece. She dropped it into one of the empty space. It seemed to be half of a dark shadow, but she couldn't make it out. She reached for the last piece. She pressed it into the small hole left in the picture. But suddenly, the lights went out. Blanketing Lisa in complete darkness. Lisa got up from her chair and stumbled in the dark. She walked over to the bookcase to get a candle and match. Finally, after she found what she needed she went back to the table. But just before she sat down, she gasped as she heard a sound. She hurriedly lit the candle. The puzzle was now done and the shadow was complete-the shadow in the window. It was more horrible than anything she had ever seen, or dreamed. She could now make out her own face in the puzzle. Lisa looked at the picture of herself in the puzzle and then back to the shadow. Then she whirled around. The blind was no longer over her window. The night showed black through the window pane. A full moon hung low in the sky. She looked back at the jigsaw puzzle for the final time. Lisa screamed,in THE STRANGEST JIGSAW PUZZLE IN THE WORLD she saw a dark figure standing behind her. The figure held a knife underneath her neck.

You may be the next to die

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:22 MDT

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You may be the next to die - SCARYSTORYYOUMAYBETHENEXT.jpg

YOU MAY BE THE NEXT... Did you ever think as a hearse goes by. That you may be the next to die? They wrap you up in a big white sheet. From your head down to your feet. And the warms crawl in and the worms crawl out, In your stomach and out your snout, And your eyes fall out and your teeth decay--And that is the end of a perfect day.

T H U PPPPP

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:21 MDT

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T H U PPPPP - SCARYSTORYTHUP.jpg

T-H-U-P-P-P-P-P-P-P! After Sarah went to bed, she saw a ghost. It was sitting on her dresser staring at her through two black holes where its eyes had been. She Shrieked, and her mother and father came running. "There's a ghost on my dresser," she said, trembling. "It's staring at me." When they turned on the light, it was gone. "You were having a bad dream," her father said. "Now go to sleep." But after they left, there it was again, sitting on her dresser staring at her. She pulled the blanket over her head and fell asleep. The next night the ghost was back. It was up on the ceiling staring down at her. When Sarah saw it, she screamed. Again her mother and father came running. "It's up on the ceiling," she said. When they turned on the light, nothing was there. "It's your imagination," her mother said, and gave her a hug. But after they left, there it was again, staring down at her from the ceiling. She put her head under the pillow and fell asleep. The next night the ghost was back. It was sitting on her bed staring at her. Sarah called to her parents, and they came running. "It's on my bed," she said. "It's looking and looking at me." When they turned on the light, nothing was there. "You're upset over nothing," her father said. He kissed her on the nose and tucked her in. "Now go to sleep." But after they left, there it was again, sitting on her bed staring at her. "Why are you doing this to me?" Sarah asked. "Why don't you leave me alone?" The ghost put its fingers in its ears and wiggled them at her. Then it stuck its tongue out and went: "T-H-U- P-P-P-P-P-P-P!" (To make this sound, put your tongue between your lips and blow. It is called giving someone "the raspberry.") THE DOLL This story is dedicated to the puppet master movies,check them out. Once two cousins of mine lived about a half hour away from my house. My family and I would visit them frequently. When we were young kids, My two cousins that were girls, shared a room together that had a bunk bed. One night when my brother and I had slept over at their house, something occurred that I don't have any explanation for to this very day. My brother slept with our oldest cousin on the bottom bunk, While I shared the top bunk with our younger cousin. Since we were kids the bunk beds were big enough to hold two small kids in each comfortably. Suddenly I woke up, my eyes just opened in mid sleep, and still tired. It was early morning between the time when night ends and morning begins. When the new days light was still bluish was just beginning to enter the room. I sat up in bed and the room had this eerie look with the blue light still just filtering in. At the foot of the bunk bed, there was a dresser, with a large mirror behind it. There were little girl things on the dresser, dolls, jewelry boxes and so on. I was fully awake now and I glanced over at my cousin laying next to me, and she was sleeping peacefully. I looked back at the stuff on the dresser. And there in the center of it was a huge doll. Those old fashioned kind, with fully ugly pastel colored dresses, it wore a bonnet on its head, it had black glass eyes, that open and close as you shake it up and down. And I noticed that it was looking straight at me. I didn't notice anything unusual until it started to move slightly. It moved its head and looked out the open door into the hallway, and blinked its eyes. Then it slowly turned its head back towards me. And I sat there in terror, trembling, not knowing what to do or think. The doll blinked at me again. I was suddenly filled with horror. I can't explain it... I wanted to scream but couldn't. I kept staring at the doll, and it kept staring back at me. I watched as it moved its arms a bit, its joints were jointed like a Barbie doll's. It repeated the process of turning it's head towards the door and then back to me. While still keeping my eyes on the doll, I reached over to shake my cousin to wake her. But she wouldn't wake up, she was in deep sleep. I don't really remember what happened next, horror probably blocked out the rest of it. But the next thing I remember I was in my aunt's bedroom, screaming for her to wake up. When she did she asked me what was wrong. My scramming had woke up the other kids, and they came racing into her bedroom too. I told them all what had happened to the very detail. Then all of us walked back to our cousins bedroom. Still keeping my distance from it, I pointed to the once animated doll. My aunt went over to the doll and checked it out. And she stated that I must have been dreaming. The only person that believed me was my younger cousin that shared the same bunk with me. She had told me that several strange things had happened in that old house. Such as hearing heavy footsteps pounding up and down the hallway stairs, with nobody being seen. So from that day on, I would never ever go into my cousins bedroom by myself.

It's Him

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:20 MDT

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It's Him - SCARYSTORYITSHIM.jpg

IT'S HIM! The woman was the meanest, most miserable person you could imagine. And her husband was just as bad. The only good thing was that they lived in the woods all by themselves and couldn't bother anybody else. One day they were off somewhere getting firewood, and the woman got so mad at her husband that she grabbed an ax and cut his head off, just like that. Then she buried him nice and neat and went home. She made herself a cup of tea and went out on the porch. She sat there rocking in her rocking chair, Sipping her tea, thinking how glad she was that she had done this awful thing. After a while she heard this old, empty voice out in the distance moaning and groaning, and it was saying: "Whoooooooo's going to stay with me this cold and lonely night? Whoooooooo?" "It's him!" she thought. And she hollered back, "Stay by yourself, you old goat." Soon she heard the voice again, only now it was closer, and it was saying: "Whoooooooo's going to sit with me this cold and lonely night? Whoooooooo?" "Only a crazy man!" she shouted. "Sit by yourself, you dirty rat!" Then she heard the voice even closer, and it was saying: "Whoooooooo's going to be with me this cold and lonely night? Whoooooooo?" "Nobody!" she sneered. "Be by yourself, you miserable mole!" She stood up to go into the house, and it was whispering: "WHOOOOOOOO'S GOING TO STAY WITH ME THIS COLD AND LONELY NIGHT? WHOOOOOOOO?" Before she could answer back, a big hairy hand came around the corner and grabbed her, and the voice hollered: "YOU ARE!" (As you say the last line, grab one of your friends.)

Is Something Wrong?

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:19 MDT

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Is Something Wrong? - SCARYSTORYISSOMETHINGWRONG.jpg

IS SOMETHING WRONG? A car broke down late at night way out in the country. The driver remembered passing an empty house a few minutes earlier. "I'll stay there," he thought. "At least I'll get some sleep." He found some wood in the corner of the living room and made a fire in the fire place. He covered himself with his coat and slept. Toward morning the fire went out, and the cold awakened him. "it'll be light soon," he thought. "Then I'll go for help." He closed his eyes again. But before he could doze off there was a terrible crash. Something big and heavy had fallen out of the chimney. It lay on the floor for a minute. Then it stood up and stared at him. The man took one look and started running. He had never seen anything so horrible in his life. He paused just long enough to jump through a window. Then he ran, and ran, and ran--and ran until he thought his lungs would burst. As he stood in the road panting, trying to catch his breath, he felt something tap him on the shoulder. He turned and found himself staring into two big, bloody eyes in a grinning skull. It was the horrible thing! "Pardon me, " it said. "Is something wrong?"

The HOG

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:18 MDT

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The HOG - SCARYSTORYTHEHOG.jpg

THE HOG When Arthur and Anne were in high school, they fell in love. They were both big, fat, and jolly and seemed suited to one another. But as sometimes happens, things didn't work out. Arthur moved away and married someone else, and Anne didn't marry anymore. And not too many years later, she got sick and died. Some said it was from a broken heart. One day Arthur was driving to a small town not far from where he and Anne had grown up. Soon he realized that a hog was following him. No matter how fast Arthur drove, the hog stayed right behind. Each time he looked back, there was the hog. It began to irritate him. Finally he couldn't stand it any longer. He stopped his car and rapped the hog on its snout good and hard. "Get out of here, you fat, dirty thing!" he shouted. To his astonishment, the hog spoke to him, and it was Anne's voice he heard. "It's her ghost!" he thought. "She has come back as a hog!" "I wasn't doing no harm Arthur," the hog said. "I was just out for a brisk walk, enjoying myself. How could you strike me after all that we meant to one another?" With that, she turned and trotted away. (When you tell this story, have the hog speak in a high voice.)

STRANGERS

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:17 MDT

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STRANGERS - SCARYSTORYSTRANGERS.jpg

STRANGERS A man and a woman happened to sit next to one another on a train. The woman took out a book and began reading. The train stopped at a half dozen stations, but she never looked up once. The man watched her for a while, then asked, "What are you reading?" "It's a ghost story," she said. "It's very good, very spooky." "Do you believe in ghosts?" he asked. "Yes, I do," she replied. "There are ghosts everywhere." "I don't believe in them," he said. "It's just a lot of superstition. In all my years I've never seen a ghost, not one." "Haven't you?" the woman said--and vanished.

The Trouble part 2

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:16 MDT

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The Trouble part 2 - SCARYSTORYTHETROUBLEPART2.jpg

THE TROUBLE PART 2 noisy ghost that is blamed when things moved around on their own. No one has proved that poltergeists exist. But people everywhere had told stories about them for hundreds of years. And what they have told was not too different from what was happening to the Lombardos. Detective Briggs did not, of course, believe in poltergeists. He had begun to believe that Tom Lombardo might be to blame. Whenever something happened, Tom was usually in the room or nearby. When he accused Tom of causing the trouble, the boy denied it. "I don't know what's going on," he said. "All I know is that it scares me." People said that Detective Briggs was a tough cop who would turn in his mother if she did something wrong. But he believed Tom. Only now he didn't know what to think. Tuesday, February 25. A newspaper reporter came to the house to interview the family. Afterward he sat in the living room by himself hoping that something would happen that he could describe in his story. Tom's room was just across the hall from where the reporter sat. The boy had gone to bed, but he had left his door open. Suddenly a globe of the world flew out of the darkened room and smashed into a wall. The reporter dashed into the bedroom and turned on the light. Tom was sitting in bed blinking, as if he had just been awakened from a sound sleep. "What was that?" he asked. Wednesday, February 26. In the morning a small plastic statue of the Virgin Mary rose up from a dresser in Mr. and Mrs. Lombardo's bedroom and flew into a mirror. That night, while Tom was doing his homework, a ten- pound record player took off from a table, flew fifteen feet, then crashed to the floor. Friday, February 28. Two scientists arrived from Duke University in North Carolina. They were Parapsychologists who studied experiences like those the Lombardos were having. They spent several days talking to the family and examining the house, trying to understand what was going on and what was causing it. One night a bottle of bleach popped its top, but that was all that happened during their visit. They did not tell the Lombardos about a theory they had that a poltergeist actually might be involved in such cases. According to this idea, poltergeists were not ghosts. They were normal teenagers. They had become so troubled by a problem that their emotions built up into a kind of vibration. Since it was taken place in their unconscious minds, they didn't even know it was happening. But the vibration somehow left their bodies and moved whatever it struck. It happened again and again until the problem had been solved. Scientists had given this strange power a name. They called it "psychokinesis," the ability to move objects with mental power, or mind over matter. No one knew if this really could happen, or how to prove it. Yet most reports of poltergeists did involve families with teenage children, and there were two teenagers in the Lombardo family. Monday, March 3. The parapsychologists said that they would prepare a report on what they had learned. The day after they left the trouble returned with a vengeance. Tuesday, March 4. In the afternoon a bowl of flowers flew off the dining-room table and smashed into a cupboard. Then a bottle of bleach jumped out of a cardboard box and popped its top. Then a bookcase filled with encyclopedias fell over and wedged itself between a radiator and a wall. Then a flashlight bulb on a table rose up and hit a wall twelve feet away. Finally, four knocks were heard coming from the kitchen when nobody was in that room. Wednesday, March 5. While Mrs. Lombardo was making breakfast, she heard a loud crash in the living room. The coffee table had turned over by itself. But that was the end of it. After a month of chaos everything returned to normal. In August the two parapsychologists gave their report. They decided that the Lombardos had not made up the story. Nor had they imagined it. Their trouble had been real. But what had caused it? They said that no pranks or tricks were involved, nor was any magic. As the police had done, they also ruled out vibrations from underground water and other physical causes. The only explanation they could not rule out was the possibility that a teenage poltergeist had been at work, moving objects, with mental power. They did not have enough evidence to prove it, but it was the only answer they had. If it was a poltergeist, they thought it was Tom. If they were right, if a normal boy like Tom had become a poltergeist, this also might happen to other teenagers. It might even happen to you.

The Trouble part 1

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:15 MDT

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The Trouble part 1 - SCARYSTORYTHETROUBLEPART1.jpg

THE TROUBLE PART 1 The events in this story took place in 1958 in a small white house in the suburb of New York City. The names of the people involved have been changed. Monday, February 3. Tom Lombardo and his sister Nancy had just come home from school. Tom was going on thirteen. Nancy was fourteen. They were talking to their mother in the living room when they heard a loud POP! in the kitchen. It sounded like a cork had been pulled from a bottle of champagne. But it was nothing like that. The cap on a bottle of starch had somehow come unscrewed, and the bottle had tipped over and spilled. Then bottles all over the house began popping-- bottles of nail polish remover, shampoo, bleach, rubbing alcohol, even a bottle of holy water. Each had a screw cap that took two or three full turns to open. But each had opened by itself--without any human help--then had fallen over and spilled. "What is going on here?" Mrs. Lombardo asked. Nobody knew. But the popping soon stopped and everything went back to normal. It was just one of those crazy things, they decided, and put it out of their minds. Thursday, February 6. Just after Tom and Nancy got home from school, sex more bottles popped their caps. The next day, at about the same time, another six did. Sunday, February 9. At eleven o'clock that morning Tom was in the bathroom brushing his teeth. His father was standing in the doorway talking to him. All of a sudden a bottle of medicine began moving across the vanity by itself and fell into the sink. At the same time a bottle of shampoo moved to the edge of the vanity and crashed to the floor. They watched, spellbound. "I'd better call the police," Mr. Lombardo said. That afternoon a patrolman interviewed the family as bottles popped in the bathroom. The police assigned a detective named Joseph Briggs to the case. Detective Briggs was a practical man. When something moved, he believed that a human or an animal had moved it, or that it moved because of a vibration or the wind or some other natural cause. He did not believe in ghosts. When the Lombardos said they had nothing to do with what was going on, he thought that at least one of them was lying. He wanted to examine the house. Then he wanted to talk to some experts and find out what they thought. Tuesday, February 11. The bottle of holy water that had opened a week before opened a second time and spilled. Two days later it spilled again. Saturday, February 15. Tom, Nancy, and a relative were watching TV in the living room when a small porcelain statue rose up from a table. It flew three feet through the air, then fell to the rug. Monday, February 17. A priest blessed the Lombardo's house to protect it against whatever was causing the trouble. Thursday, February 20. While Tom was doing his homework at one en of the dining room table, a sugar bowl at the other end flew into the hall and crashed. Detective Briggs saw it happen. Later a bottle of ink on the table flew into a wall and broke, spattering in all directions. Then another porcelain statue took off. It traveled twelve feet and smashed into a desk. Friday, February 21. To get some peace, the Lombardos went to a relative's house for the weekend. While they were gone, everything at home was normal. Sunday, February 23. When the Lombardos returned, another sugar bowl took off. It flew into a wall and smashed to smithereens. Later a heavy bureau in Tom's room toppled over. But no one was in the room when it happened. Monday, February 24. By now detective Briggs had talked to an engineer, a chemist, a physicist, and others. Some thought that vibrations in the house were causing the trouble. These could come from underground water, they said. or from high-frequency radio waves, or from sonic booms caused by airplanes. Others said that the electrical system was the cause, or downdrafts coming through the chimney. The popping of bottles was blamed on chemicals the bottles contained. Tests showed that there were no vibrations in the house; there was nothing wrong with the electrical system; and there was no chemicals in the bottles that would make them pop. Then what was causing the trouble? None of the experts knew. But every day the Lombardos received dozens of letters and telephone calls from people who thought they did know. Many believed that the house was haunted. They thought that a poltergeist was on the loose-the

No Thanks

ORIGINALSCREENNAME — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:46:14 MDT

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No Thanks - SCARYSTORYNOTHANKS.jpg

NO, THANKS Thursday nights Jim worked as a stock boy in one of the malls out on the highway. By eight-thirty he was usually finished and he drove home. But that night Jim was one of the last to leave. By the time he got out to the large parking lot, it was almost empty. The only sounds were cars in the distance and his footsteps on the pavement. Suddenly a man stopped out of the shadows. "Hey, mister," he called in a low voice. He held out his right hand. Balanced on the palm was the long, thin blade of a knife. Jim stopped. "Nice, sharp knife," the man said softly. "Don't panic," Jim thought. The man stepped toward him. "Don't run," Jim told himself. "Nice, sharp knife," the man repeated. "Give him what he wants," Jim thought. The man came closer. He held the knife up. "Cuts nice and easy," he said slowly. Jim waited. The man peered into his face. "Hey, man, only three dollars. Two for five. Nice present for your mama." "No, thanks," Jim said. "She's got one." And he ran for his car . SUCKING MY LOVE Killing As I cum, Suck It And See This story is dedicated to the song "sucking my love" by Diamond Head from their album Behold The Beginning. In recent years a terror stalks the department stores and malls of America. After an afternoon of shopping a woman is leaving the mall, but as she crosses the parking lot, feels somebody stalking her. As she turns around she sees a sales man armed with perfume that pursuers her. Offering her a sprits and insisting that she tries it. She refuses but he persists. Saying its the hottest new fragrance meant to make guys crazy over women, and its on sale. He won't take no for an answer. Exasperated she finally gives in and tries it. But she's immediately disgusted. She gives the sales person a firm no thank you, and heads back towards her car. But as she walks, she begins to feel light headed. Everything moves in slow motion. Each step is like lifting a led weight. The distance to her car seems to stretch out in front of her when she finally makes it to her car she drops her keys then she looses her balance. And just before she slips into unconsciousness, the last face she sees is that of the pestering salesman. There are several different versions to how this story ends. One version a shopper finds the nude body of a woman that has been raped before and after death, in the store parking lot. Another one is about an ex boyfriend that's enraged at his girlfriend for dumping him. He concocts a sleeping potion, disguised as perfume. He puts on a disguise, and stalks his former lover to a mall. He uses the perfume sale's man gimmick to spray the knock out potion in her face. While unconscious, he drags her inside her vehicle. He strips her of all her clothes. then he hides somewhere. When she comes to, she finds herself alone inside her vehicle and completely nude. With Her head throbbing, she asks herself how long has she been out. Alarmed she gets out and groggily goes into the store, and tells her story. The ex boyfriend however takes pictures of her while unsuspecting and naked. Later he posts the pictures on the Internet, Sending them to a nudist exhibitionists web sight. For all to see. In an everlasting act of sweet revenge.