Friday Scary Story, August 21, 2015

A magician's bag.

It's full of tricks.

My uncle left me his.  It's been passed down for generations.

When I was little, my uncle would pull out a set of teeth on hinges from the bag.  He would chase me, trying to bite me with them.

They were made out my grandfather's teeth.  They took them out after he was dead.

When I opened the bag, they were in there.

I threw them away.  I don't want them near me.



I think he wants them back.


He's here right now.

He's been pulling out my hair when I sleep.  There are bunches missing.  I wake up screaming from the pain.

It's gathered into piles.  It's on top of the fridge.  I found it yesterday when I was cleaning.

I don't know how to give him his teeth back.  I took them out of the garbage, and put them back into the bag.

In the morning I will find where he is buried.  I will put them in the ground with him.


Maybe then, he will leave me alone.

Friday Scary Story, August 14, 2015

They're not suppose to move.

They're not suppose to be alive.

This one is.

I bought an old busted up mannequin from a thrift shop.  I wanted to scare my roommate on our camping trip.  I got here a couple days before her, so I could set it up.

It's alive.  I know this is crazy, but it's true.  

Last night I found it whispering in my ear.  It was inside my tent.  I pushed it away from me.

I ran to my car, but it won't start.  It did something to it.  I know it.

Running away, I fell down a hill.

My leg is busted.  I see bone.

It's dark out here now.  I hear it coming.

It walks like a spider.  I see it getting closer in the moonlight.


I don't want to die.

Friday Scary Story, August 7, 2015

I've locked all the doors.

I've locked all the windows.

I must not get out.  I can't let anyone in.

The old man at the end of the road finally got sick of me cutting through his property.  I never believed the stories that he practiced voodoo.  But, now I do.

He cursed me.

For the first time I saw him smile.  He acted like he was biting me, then laughed long and hard as I ran.


The last few days I have woken up with blood in my mouth.  Pieces of flesh in my mouth.


It's mine.


I must be doing it when I am asleep.  It's bad.  Pieces of me are missing.

I can't fall asleep.

It's the curse.  Curses are real.

Friday Scary Story, July 31, 2015

Eyes.

They tell you if a person is alive, or dead.

I work in a morgue.  I see dead ones.  I sew them shut.


I hate working alone.



A new body came in.  Her legs are missing.  It's cut smooth.  She has been dead for at least a week.


She started looking at me.


I know she does.


Her eyes are alive.

The stitches won't hold.  So I glued them shut.

It didn't work.

She looked at me again.


I'm hiding.  I'm in the storage room.

I heard her drop down.  I heard her slide over to the door.

Her fingers are sliding back and forth under the door.


I can't get out.

Friday Scary Story, July 24, 2015 - This one is from Dec. 5, 2014 - It's real so I wanted to say it again.

Dark spaces.

They are scary.

You never know what you will find.

Under my bed, it is dark.  Something lives there.  It has touched me.

I have tried everything to not let it, but it still happens.

It stopped for awhile.  It has been six years.  But, now it has started again.

For the last four nights, it has come all the way out.  I sleep with the light on.  I sleep with my feet tucked in.  I keep the blankets tight, but it still comes out.

It grabs onto me.  Then it pulls its self up.  It rests on top of me.  I won't open my eyes.  I don't want to see it.  It crushes me.  It is so heavy.  I feel like I am going to die.  I feel like it will take my breath away from me.

Before I pass out... it slides back down.  It slides away.

It never says a word.  It has no breath.

I wish it would stop.

I wish it would go away.

Friday Scary Story, July 17, 2015

Instinct.

Always follow it.  Always.

I took the stairs.  I started on the sixth floor.

When I saw an empty beer can tucked into the corner, my instinct kicked in. It told me to get out.  Take the elevator.

I didn't.


The next flight down, I saw what looked like a small flap of folded over skin on the railing.  It couldn't have been.

I went faster.


On the next flight of stairs, there were a handful of flies on something in the corner.  I looked close.  It was a severed nose.  There was no blood any where.  Just a piece cut from someone.

I tripped walking backwards.  My ankle snapped.  It made a loud noise.

So did someone else.


When I stopped at the bottom, I heard an extra step above me, then silence.


The door is locked.  It's never locked.



Someone is above me.  The person is throwing things at me.  They're humming... Rock a Bye Baby.  One of the pieces hit me.

It's the tip of a finger.

Friday Scary Story, July 10, 2015

Crying.

Sobbing.

Sometimes I think I hear it before I open the bathroom door at work. It's an old historic building, so it could be anything.

People say it's haunted.

Now I know, it is.

As soon as I stepped in, I felt it.

There are two stalls.  I saw a shadow in one.  I looked, nothing was there.

When I sat down, I saw a shadow outside the stall door.  As I bent down to see it, something grabbed my hair... from above.  It pulled me up to my feet.

I felt clumps tear from my scalp.

I screamed.

It dropped me.

The stall door wouldn't open, so I crawled underneath it.  It dragged me back twice by my ankles, before I got out.

The hall door won't open.  I'm locked in.

The lights went out.


She is laughing.

Her icy breath is hitting my face.