Ghost Story Contest

[She-who-loves-hyphens]

I might try, if only to get back into the swing of writing, because I haven't writen anything in a while.  

[Talia Maxwell]

awesome!! i love writing heart heart heart  

[Laura-46]

Many people knew about the 'problem' with the house. It was common knowledge that it had changed hands alot- nobody stayed there long and there were tales of strange events.
The house was believed to be haunted by the townspeople.

My brother went there in 1998 to conduct a survey. He later recounted to me the events of that day.

'The front door had been boarded up, so I entered through a side door' he told me.

The first thing he noticed was how cold the room he had just entered was was. He was standing in a hallway, which was a small, cluastrophobic place with peeling, yellowed wallpaper, under which what could have been mould or damp was beginning to show. Noting this calmly down on this form, he walked through the dining room.
He left the house 10 minutes later with a half-completed survey, white with shock.

The plumbing was clearly broken as there was green slime oozing and dripping from the taps in the kitchen; but disregarding this he finished examining the rest of the room and made his way into the lounge.

Just as he was stepping around a crumbling sofa, he heard a noise upstairs. Thinking that perhaps there was a pet upstairs, and knowing that the previous owners had vacated the house for good, he decided to investigate futher and made his way back into the hall.

Above him, the staircase ran in a straight, steep line to the landing, which was in darkness. He searched for the lightswitch, and finding none, cursed under his breath. He began climbing the stairs slowly, noticing that it seemed colder in some areas than others. He later impressed upon me how he'd felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and how all the stories he'd heard had come back to him, even as he tried to repress them.
He remembered about the cold spots, the strange noises and that lady who had seen the 'figure' on the stairs and...
The cat.

Just as he recalled the tale of the ghostly cat, there came a smattering of clawed paws, unmistakable on parque floors, even though all the visible floor was carpeted. The sound got nearer, as he stood rooted to the spot it seemed to approach him from the right. Seeing nothing, he peered desperately round the open doorway on that side, catching glimpse of grey carpet and a chair covered in white sheeting. He stood, immobile until the sound of paws faded and stopped completely, then he took a step backwards towards the stairs, and began running down them, turning as he ran. He ran all the way to the front door, where he remembered it was boarded up.

Reaching the side door, he ran outside and, after having the prescence of mind to lock the door, he wen to his car and sat down, shaking.

He recounted this to my parents and I, trying to appear clam and aloof, but his shoulders shook as he told us how he'd felt as he climbed the stairs.

That was over 10 years ago now, the house has been pulled down now, but there have been sightings of a black cat on the road nearby.


What did you think? sweatdrop  

[HaruhiSempi]

Ahhhhhhh!  

[Angeloni87]

mitsuhide_v15

had to put the year I was born didn't you? >.> lol  

[Simple lSoul]

Angeloni87

mitsuhide_v15

had to put the year I was born didn't you? >.> lol

hey, i didnt know that..
LOL xd xd xd xd xd  

[Ellya Newleaf]

What constitutes a "ghost story"? Is this intended just to be..."boo!" or are we talking more horror, or gore, or..."my heart was really pounding!", or "I'm definitely not going to sleep tonight"...? I haven't written for a contest in a very long time, and am trying to focus my mind on what I want to have as an entry. =3

Edit: And it can be longer than 500 words, right?  

[Lady-Ecanus]

I haven't written a ghost/horror story in so long, I'm not sure if this will be any good.



I was running through the forest with the sounds of their screams coming to me, one after another after another. All around me was the sounds of the night and the pounding of my heart and footsteps. I didn’t hear her but I knew she was coming. I thought that we would be okay, I thought this would just be a good way to spend the day, remembering. But I guess this is what we get; maybe this is what we deserve. It’s October 30th, not even Halloween. Tonight, tonight was the scariest night of my life. And it’s not over yet.

It started back in 2009. It was Sarah, Mari, Danielle, Rachel and I. We were having a test of courage; at least that was what Rachel thought. Really Sarah just wanted to see how long we could scare Rachel for before she went running away. We knew that she had been scared of the dark and ghosts since the third grade, she had told us herself. We got to the forest on the other side of town and went in.

I don’t really know what happened. The second we entered the forest Rachel started freaking out. She kept mumbling, “not again, not again.” We didn’t think she would freak out that much being surrounded by trees. We just touched her arm, trying to bring her back around. The second our skin came in contact with hers she let out this bloodcurdling scream and booked it for the road. She had just hit pavement and we were about ten feet behind her when this truck came out of nowhere and ran her over. I can still remember as the first wheel went over her. She kept staring at us her hand raised. Then four more wheels and she kept staring, begging us to save her. Finally the last four wheels went over her back and she just kept staring. The truck driver didn’t notice or didn’t care. He just drove off leaving her there on the pavement with the three of us. I called the police and waited for them to come but Sarah, Mari and Danielle ran off. I don’t know how long I sat there waiting for the police to come all I know is that the entire time I was watching the light fade from her eyes. She looked so normal lying there. Everything was normal, except for the fact that her legs had been severed by the weight of the truck. There was so much blood but her face; her face was still the same. I couldn’t stand seeing her like that, even if I didn’t like her so I put my green jacket over her and kept waiting. Finally as she drew her last breath and the light faded from her eyes I could hear a faint thanks coming from her direction. I turned away so I wouldn’t cry and saw the police and an ambulance coming. I looked back for Rachel but all there was on the ground was a blood puddle, nothing else.

It’s been a year exactly and I came back to the forest. I don’t know why but I did. Mari, Sarah, Danielle and I still talk but it’s been hard to be friends with three people who leave you alone. I convinced them to come with me to where Rachel died. No one knows she is dead, no one believes me either. All the police could prove was that a large truck had hit her and that she had bleed on the pavement. No one has seen her since that day.

“Why are we here Katie! There is no reason to be trampling about in a forest the night before Halloween!”

“Yeah what Sarah said.”

“I agree. It’d not like anything important happened here.”

I just stared at the three of them. How could they not remember that night? I know they saw her get run over.

“We are here to remember Rachel. It is our fault she died so I will stay here all night.”

“Rachel isn’t dead.”

“Yes she is Mari. I saw her die.”

Mari shook her head before pulling out a piece of paper covered in red words. “I got this in the mail yesterday. It’s from her.”

“I got one as well.” Said Sarah as she pulled a letter from her purse.

“Me too.” Said Danielle who pulled an identical letter from her jacket.

The three letters were exactly the same. In the middle of the page in big red letters was the sentence.

You’ll pay for what you have done. ~Rachel

“It’s just a joke guys. Rachel is dead.” I repeated, “I saw her die. I heard her last breath, I just don’t know where her body is.”

“You just keep telling yourself that Katie. Hey isn’t that your jacket?”

I looked over to where she was pointing. There on a branch was the green jacket I had laid on Rachel a year ago. It had disappeared with her and now it was here. Covered in fresh, bright blood.

“Oh ha ha Katie. I see what your doing, your trying to scare us. Real funny,” Said Danielle with a scoff. “I’m not going to stick around and watch you laugh at me.”

Before we could say a word Danielle walked back towards the road. It had been thirty seconds, no more no less when we heard a scream. We ran up to the road and watched in horror as some invisible thing ran Danielle over. There was so much blood and by the time the thing had stopped Danielle was lying there just like Rachel had. Both Sarah and Mari screamed and ran off but I stayed. I watched as Danielle tried to move but she couldn’t. I took her phone and called the police on it before leaving to find Sarah and Mari. Just as I was walking back into the forest I heard another bloodcurdling scream from Danielle. I knew there was no helping her. If Rachel, who was strong couldn’t survive one then Danielle could never survive getting run over twice.

I hadn’t gone far into the forest when I heard another scream, this time it sounded like Mari. I ran off in that direction and found her pinned to a tree with a bunch of pegs. Her hands, arms, legs and feet were bleeding sluggishly while a wound on her stomach pumped out blood. Before my eyes the wound closed up only to be torn open again by something. Again I heard Danielle scream and now Mari’s voice was added to the mix. Again I took her cellphone and called the police before a third scream dragged me away. I don’t know why I stayed in this forest with three people I didn’t care for but I would not be responsible for another death.

I ran for a long time deeper and deeper into the forest. And there, right near the center was Sarah, and Rachel. I don’t know when I stopped breathing but suddenly I was gasping for air. Rachel was there humming under her breath as she slowly cut Sarah to pieces. She looked just as she had when I last saw her but her legs were clumsily sewn back onto her body. The sight of her looking almost normal while she slowly dissected my almost friend alive was too much. I screamed. I screamed and screamed as loud as I could before fleeing. I heard the screams coming from my three almost friends as they were tortured all over the forest but I couldn’t help them now. I needed to flee So I ran as fast as I could.

Twenty minutes later I was lost in the forest so I sat beneath a tree and prayed she wouldn’t find me.

“Why so sad Katie. I’m here.”

I let out another scream and backed as far into the tree as I could. There was Rachel in front of me with a bloodthirsty smile on her face and a bloody knife in her hand.

“I thought you were dead Rachel. Why are you here? Why are you doing this to them?”

“I wanted them to know what it feels like,” she whispered as the smile slowly slid off her face, “how it feels to be left alone with no friends by your side as you slowly die. I had you, but not really.”

“What do you want with me?” I questioned as the tears I had been holding back feel from my eyes.”

“Can’t you figure it out silly. I want us to be friends in this forest forever. You’re not leaving, Katie. You nor your friends are leaving me. Ever again.”

It’s October 30th, not even Halloween. Tonight was the scariest night of my life, but it has nothing on what is about to come.  

[J_Skellington1]

“Fear” By: Jeff Helms (J_Skellington1)

I’d always considered myself lucky. I’d had very few frightening experiences in my short twenty years on earth. No great trauma to speak of, just a quiet normal life. I’d always considered myself lucky, that is, until today.

At 6:30 am, my alarm went off, just as it did every other morning. I watched the sunrise, as I often did, cup of coffee in hand. As I stared quietly out my dining room window, listening to the blue birds sing, basking in the warm glow of the new day’s sun, I couldn’t help but feel an enduring sense of peace. It was as if the universe in its entirety was in perfect harmony. Hardly a precursor to the horrors I’d be facing in just a few hours time.

After my cup had been drained, I began my morning ritual. Shave, and shower, brush my teeth; comb my hair, put on my work clothes. Nothing out of the ordinary. As I grabbed my keys and prepared to exit my home, I paused to pet the large, fluffy head of my dearest and most faithful friend, and said, “Well boy, I’m off to work. You be good now, okay?” He chuffed happily, seeming to smile at me, neither of us knowing it would be our last moment together.

The drive to work was uneventful as usual. As I opened the door to begin my work day, I couldn’t help but notice the receptionist – Alice – was once again hunched over her desk conspiratorially. Most likely texting her idiot boyfriend. Sighing, as I stepped past her to reach my desk, I wondered once again, how it was that woman stayed employed.

Shaking off the thought I hurried to sit in my chair and start up my computer, trying desperately to summon some sort of enthusiasm for the tedious work ahead of me. Before I could finish this, however, I was called into my boss’s office. I took a seat after closing the door. As she finished whatever “work” she’d been doing, my mind began to wonder, as it often did in these situations.

I looked at the older woman who quite literally held the life of my career in the palm of her short stubby hands. I was saddened by what I saw. Carol, although only in her forties, appeared much older than her years. It was clear she had once been a great beauty, that beauty was all but gone by now. Years of hardships and disappointments may have been the cause of her aged appearance. Or perhaps it was simply too much sun and lack of exercise that attributed to her appearance.

I was snapped out of my reverie when Carol cleared her throat. “I need you to run an errand for me”, she said. “An errand? Isn’t that a job for an intern?” Giving an obviously forced smile, she said, “Ordinarily, yes, but this is a special case.” “A special case” I said, “How so?” “You were asked for by name to carry out this errand.” “Asked by whom?” Taking a deep breath obviously trying to reign in her temper she replied, “The client did, she asked for you specifically.” I couldn’t help but look at Carol in disbelief. Leveling me with a stare that quite clearly said I’m not in the mood to play games, so just do as I say. I sighed, “So what is it you need me to do, exactly?” I asked, knowing I had no choice but to acquiesce.

Smiling smugly, obviously relishing her victory, she told me that all I had to do was drop off some forms to an important client. A woman by the name of Rose McClain. Wonderful, I thought, delivering forms to some old crone, how exciting. I grabbed said forms from Carol and exited the building. As I got in my car and turned the key, I began to wonder how this day could possibly get worse. I got my answer in the form of my engine failing to start. I got out of the car, locked the doors, and began the two and a half mile walk to the client’s house.

After what seemed like an eternity I came upon Ms. McClain’s house. What would have been a beautiful two story Victorian house, was ruined by the unkempt yard and peeling paint. From what little information Carol had given me, I knew Ms. McClain to be a woman of considerable means. This made the disheveled appearance of the house all the more confusing. Walking up to the front door, I heard the porch creak and groan as if in pain. As I rang the doorbell, I briefly wondered if it would hold me.

I heard a soft voice from inside the house say “Who is it?” Straightening my back, I replied “I’m mister Jacobs; I’m here to deliver some forms for a Ms. McClain” The sight that awaited me took my breath away. Instead of the elderly woman I’d been expecting, I was greeted by a beautiful young woman. This must be her daughter, I thought. Wetting my unexpectedly dry lips I said, “Is Rose McClain in?” The young woman smiled and said, “Yes, silly boy, I’m Rose McClain.”

“Y-You’re Rose McClain?” I all but shouted. She laughed and with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, said, “Yes, of course I am, are you hard of hearing, or something?” Blushing, I quickly replied, “No, I was just…You aren’t what I was expecting.” She smiled and said, “You were expecting an old woman, weren’t you? People always assume I’m old because of my name.” I quickly tried to deny her statement, but I could tell she could see right through me. Great, I may have just lost an important client. Carol’s going to be pissed.

I had expected her to be Rose to be upset, but she surprised me by saying, “It’s alright, I’m used to it.” She opened the door wider and said, “Won’t you come in?” I stepped past her and entered the door thanking my lucky stars she hadn’t been hurt or angered by my faux pas. After closing the door she led me into a lavishly furnished sitting room. Although the outside of the house was unkempt, it was obvious someone took great care in the up-keep of the inside of the house.

“Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?” She said. “I don’t want to trouble you” I said. “Oh, it’s no trouble, really. I don’t often get visitors.” Her smile was so sad as she said this that my heart ached for her. Someone as beautiful as her should never look so sad, I thought. “A glass of water would be wonderful, actually.” In a flash her smile returned and she quickly set about getting me my drink. I used this time to puzzle over the situation I found myself in. I’m in the home of a rich, beautiful, lonely young woman. This sounds like the set up of some trashy romance novel. My gracious hostess returned glass in hand, and said, “Here you are, is there anything else I can get you? You must be hungry after such a long walk.” I smiled and said, “Yes actually, I am a bit hungry…” before I could finish my sentence she was off like a flash back to the kitchen.

After a short time she returned with a plate of assorted fruits and vegetables. I looked at the mouth watering assortment, surprised to find myself so hungry. “Help yourself,” she said. As slowly and as dignified as I could I began eating the delicious food before me. She sat there, still smiling as she watched me eat. Before I knew it I had licked the plate clean. I blushed hoping she didn’t think I was a pig. I shyly looked up, only to see her smiling that same serene smile. Relaxing I smiled back, before remembering my original reason for being here.

“Well, Ms. McClain…”, “Please, call me Rose.” Clearing my throat I said, “Well Rose, why don’t we get down to business.” She pouted slightly and said, “Oh come now, Mr. Jacobs, you’ve only just gotten here. Why don’t you stay a spell, after all business can wait, can’t it?” Before I had a chance to reply, I began to feel my eyelids drooping. My vision became blurry, my speech came out slurred, “I r-really musht get back to w-work, my bossh will k-kill me if I’m late.” “Oh, don’t worry about that, just relax, we’ve got all the time in the world.” I slipped into unconsciousness before I had a chance to ask what she meant by that.

It was sometime later before I came to. As I looked around, trying to get my bearings, I noticed that the sun had already set. I slept through the whole day. Carol’s gonna be furious. With a start I realized the sitting room I’d been in had changed. The change was quite subtle. It was as if the entire room had been washed of its color. I noticed there was a strange smell in the air. It was musty, it reminded me of the smell of an old books pages. I looked for Rose, but she was nowhere to be found. It was then, that I noticed a very soft sound in the air.

I was about to find out that, today was the day I would experience something very few people ever experience. Fear, it was something everyone had experienced at one time in their life or another. Everyone, male and female, young and old, rich and poor. Everyone had experienced fear. Few people, however, have experienced true fear. Fear in its rawest and most primal form, is very hard to come by.

I got up from my place on the chair and followed the sound out of the sitting room and into the parlor. Rather than coming from upstairs, as I had previously thought, the sound appeared to be coming from beneath my feet. I noticed a small door just underneath the stairs. I crossed the room and opened the door. Instead of a small closet, I found that behind the door was a small set of stairs which seemed to go on for a long way. I quickly descended the stairs hoping to find the source of the sound. The deeper I went the stronger the sound became.

After what seemed like hours I finally reached the bottom of the stairs. It was then that I realized the sound I had been following was music. The music had a very strange ethereal feel to it. It was unlike any music I’d ever heard before. I entered a small door at end of the stairs, only to find a sight that stopped me cold. What awaited me was a large opulent ballroom. There in the center of the room was Rose. As she swayed quietly seemingly lost in the music, I watched in horror as she began to rise up off the ground.

Suddenly the music stopped, and as it did, so too did Rose’s dance. She turned to face me, her face seeming to light upon when she saw me. My wide-eyed open-mouthed stare did nothing to hamper her smile. In an instant she stood before me. No, to be more precise she came to float before me. She reached out her hand and gently caressed my face. “Mr. Jacobs…no, John. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you. I didn’t expect it to take so long.” After some time I managed to find my voice and said, “What didn’t you expect to take so long?” Her smile widened, though this smile seemed to hold a manic and hungry edge to it. “Silly boy, I’m talking about your death, of course.” A bark of panicked laughter escaped my lips. “My death? You have a very strange sense of humor Rose.”

Her smile disappeared and she said, “This…this is no joke John. You are dead. The food you ate was very special, it’s food that is grown in the underworld. Those live people foolish enough to consume it…die.” I shook her hand off angrily, no longer caring if I lost my job. I’d heard enough. What I thought was an innocent lonely young woman looking for a friend was nothing but a lunatic. I turned and left the ballroom, quickly ascending the stairs. “You can’t escape me John. You belong to me now.”

Finally reaching the top of the stairs I quickly crossed the parlor and exited the front door. Without looking back I all but ran back to my home. As I fumbled in my pocket for my key, I noticed my neighbor, Mrs. Wong exiting her apartment, carrying her laundry basket. I waved at her and said hello, but she didn’t stop, didn’t reply, just kept on walking. Shaking it off I thought she probably just didn’t hear me. After all she was getting on in years.

As I opened the door to my home and went inside, I was struck with a profound sense of wrongness. First, Nick, my beloved dog wasn’t in his usual spot, waiting by the door to greet me. As I stepped further into my home I noticed with mounting horror that all of my furniture had been replaced. I went through each room in my house, looking around with disbelief. Is this some kind of joke? Is Ashton Kutcher going to pop out of the closet and say “You’ve been Punk’d”?

As I reentered the living room I saw a young man perhaps only a few years older than me, and a tiny girl his daughter I thought. They had just finished taking off their shoes and coats, and were preparing to sit on the living room couch. Thoroughly confused I asked the man who he was and what he was doing in my home. He continued on with turning on the television, as if he hadn’t heard me. Getting increasingly angry and frustrated I shouted at the man, “Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment!?” Still the man did not respond. As I reached for the strange man’s collar intending to shake some sense into him, I thought “Okay, that’s it! No more mister nice guy”

The horror I had felt earlier returned, as I watched awestruck as my hand passed right through the man’s body. Dumbfounded, I tried again, thinking my mind was playing tricks on me. Over and over I continued to reach out to him and watch my hand pass through him. Panic overwhelmed me, I ran past the man on the couch, and attempted to get his daughters attention. “Little girl! Little girl! Look at me! Look at me, damn you!” The child continued watching her cartoons, laughing at all the cheap cartoon violence and corny dialogue.

I fell back and landed on my butt, my knees curled to my chest, my face hidden in the gap between my knees. I began rocking back and forth, back and fourth, something I hadn’t done since I was a small child. Repeating over and over again in my head,”This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. It’s all just a dream. Just a dream!” My heart which had thus far been beating at a mad pace, began to slow. I began to breathe more evenly, feeling the sweat cool on my brow. “That’s it! I’m just dreaming. I feel asleep at Rose’s house and when I wake up I’ll be back in her sitting room.”

Feeling much calmer I left my curled position on the floor and stood up. Taking a deep breath, I pinched myself a sure-fire end to any dream, I thought to myself gleefully. After giving my self a firm pinch, I opened my eyes expecting to see Rose’s smiling face looking down on me as I sheepishly rose from my sleeping position. The sight that awaited me was far less charming. Rather than finding myself back at Rose’s home, I saw I was still standing in my living room, the man and the little girl still watching TV, just as they had been. I staggered backward, stumbling and shaking in disbelief.

I came to a halt, the hairs standing on the back of my neck, as I realized that, rather than the wall, I had backed into something much softer and warmer. With mounting horror, I turned slowly; praying to whomever would listen to just let me out of this dream. I gasped, reeling backward as my worst fears were confirmed. There behind me stood Rose, still with her omnipresent smile. What would have been a soothing sight under better circumstances, her smile only served to send me deeper into panic.

“Oh? You don’t look happy to see me John.” She said smile widening. “If you keep looking at me like that, you’re going to hurt my feelings.” I stood there, terrified, more terrified than I’d ever been in my life, staring silently at the beautiful creature before me. My mouth opened and closed, but no sound would come. Finally after sometime I managed to get out, “R-Rose, why are you here?” Turning my head to indicate the man and his child I asked, “Who are they? Why are they in my house? What’s going on?”

“Why am I here? Why to get you, of course. You silly boy” Her tone of voice was that of a mother explaining why the sky was blue, to a very slow child. “In answer to your other questions, they are here because they live here. This is their home now, John.” I shook my head violently, “NO! This is my house, I live here!” She chuckled softly at this, seemingly unperturbed by my outburst, and said, “You don’t live. Don’t you see? You. Are. Dead. They bought this apartment after you died.”

“How…How can I be dead? I was only asleep for a few hours.” This garnered a snort, a painfully undignified sound, to be coming out of such a beautiful, refined woman. “A few hours? No, John, you died, and it hasn’t been a few hours, it’s been two and a half years.” I covered my ears like a petulant child, trying desperately to keep her maddening words out. I ran out of the apartment quickly descending to stairs. I ran outside, in an attempt to get some fresh air. I realized a few seconds too late, that, in my haste, I’d stepped into oncoming traffic. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the impact, but after several agonizing seconds, I realized that the impact I’d been anticipating, wasn’t coming.

I stood there, watching cars pass right through my body, with a mix of horror and dread. “Not dead, huh?” came a voice from behind me. I looked at the voice’s owner, silently pleading for her to save me, to wake me from this nightmare. She entered the road and grabbed my hand. I could do nothing but move numbly behind her as she led me back to her home.

She led me back to the sitting room, gently pushing me to sit on her settee. Pulling her chair to face me directly, she tenderly caressed my cheek. A look of understanding in her eyes. “John, I know how hard it is to accept this. Believe me, I know.” A look of such fathomless sadness crossed her face as she said this. She smiled then, a small gentle smile, a touch of sadness still in her eyes, as she said, “It’s not all bad, you know. There is no hunger or thirst here, no pain or fatigue. No more having to work at a job you hate, serving under people you can’t stand. It’s just us here. I have you and…you have me.”

I carefully grabbed her hands. Holding them in mine as I looked into her eyes. I searched her face looking for some kind silver lining, some kind of hope, but all that I could find, to my chagrin, was a sense of defeat. Complete and utter hopelessness filled my heart. “Yes,” I said, as the futility of my situation hit me, “We have each other.” Wiping the tears of sorrow from my cheeks, she said, “And that, my dear John, is all we need and more.”  

[[tears]of[blood]]

The Attic

It was a dark and creepy day. Although, you would not believe it was day because the clouds in the sky were gray and menacing, like hatred welling up in the eyes of an enemy. A young woman, Liza Rose walked to her newly acquired house. A huge mansion rose to greet her as she walked up the stone pathway. A feeling of dread settled in her gut along with a sense that she was not alone. She shook her head and laughed, “I’m being silly.”
A tall, wooden door met her as she climbed the steps. The knocker, an intricate design of twisted silver, caught her eye as she neared the house. Opening the door, a cool draft of air rushed out to meet her. She took a deep breath as she plunged into the dark gloom of the house.
As she stepped into the hallway, a mirror caught her eye. A tall, dark haired, green-eyed woman peered back at her. Considered very beautiful by her peers, she took no real notice of her beauty, focusing on more important matters like her career as a college professor in Ancient Arts of the Greek Culture, at least by her standards. Little did she know her beauty did not go unnoticed by all.

* * *

Later on in the day, as she examined all the rooms that she knew by heart, her eyes clouding over with distant memories. Images flashed past her, a tall figure disappearing through a door, a bloody tear falls on a rose, and cries from a child. She blinked back her tears and an unwavering expression settled on her face. “This is going to work.” She said fiercely. Returning to her childhood home was very difficult for Liza but she was determined to come back and live in this house that she used to love so much. She would not know until it was too late, that she was never truly alone in the house.
In her attic, there crouched a fearsome foe. Tall, muscular and insane… A psychopathic killer had taken up residence in her house while it was abandoned. He had been alone with frightening nightmares of his past and had grown more ruthless and evil as the years went on. His victims were tortured for hours on end, sometimes going insane themselves while he kept them in their cages. Their screams went unnoticed in the remotely located house….
Darkness came soon to the house. Her mood was gloomy as she thought of more cleaning she had to do even though she had spent the entire summer cleaning the house. She had been in every room except for the attic. She had vowed she would never go in there again. Her father had hanged himself in there when she was just five years old. She had come upon his dead body, the rope creaking and swaying in the breeze from the open window. Her mother had found her sitting next to his body some minutes later, just staring at him with wide eyes. In a blink of an eye they had moved out of the house, trying to run away from all the bad memories but everyone knows those memories always catch up with you.
Now, years later she was once again in the house of death. Sitting in bed, she was rereading all her student’s papers. The professor glanced at the wall, absentmindedly, and noticed a small hole peeking out from one of the many old tapestries in the house. She put the papers aside and rose out of her bed to investigate. Now as she was thinking about it, she remembered seeing other small holes throughout the house. At the hole now, she peered inside and saw a long, dark passageway. She recalled now that there were a couple secret passageways throughout the house. Her father had been more than a little paranoid and delusional. Always thinking that there were people out to get him, he’d often had queer and more than a little scary habits, the passageways just one of many examples.
A dark shadow flinted across her vision and she thought it looked like a man but a second later it was gone and she began to think it might not even have been there at all. She decided to investigate even though there was a cold feeling of dread settling in her stomach.
Crossing the hallway and walking upstairs to go to the closet where the entrance was, Liza though she heard footsteps so she stopped to listen but heard nothing.” What was that about?” she wondered, shaking her head she opened the closet doors and found the small door entrance and crawled through. Floating specks of dust swirled around her and settled on her so when she came out of the small tunnel she was covered in dust and cobwebs. “Ughh” she signed exasperatedly and started to brush herself off and suddenly sneezed violently several times in a row. “Great! Just great!” she nearly yelled.
All of a sudden she felt a cold shadow envelope the little hallway into darkness. She turned around slowly and stared in the face of a monster… He was extremely tall, taking up most of the cramped hallway, freakishly strong and looked pretty pissed. Liza tried to speak but found she couldn’t. She barely saw the blur of movement before there was an explosion of pain on the side of her head and then she saw blackness and then nothing at all.

* * *

When she woke up she was bound on the cold, hard ground. She realized she was once again in the attic where her father had died; the only light came from a several candles strewn about the wide room. Shivering she tried huddle closer to herself and tried to recall what had happened. There was a huge pain on the side of her head and she saw a small pool of blood lying next to her where her head had been. Taking a look around she realized there was something lying next to her, squinting her eyes in the dim light, a body slowly formed without its head! She cried out in horror and suddenly realized the head was on the other side of her, its mouth leering in a silent last scream, the face distorted with pain. Another thought raced across her mind, she was lying in the poor owner’s own blood, the crimson liquid seeping into her clothes! She sobbed and tried to move away but found the floor was littered with sharp glass, as well as the blood, and stabbed her in the back as she tried to move. Knowing it was fruitless; she slumped back in tears and defeat, waiting for her impending death.
As the silence wore on, she started to form a plan in her mind to escape from this hell house. “The murderer made one mistake” she thought “Leaving me with a way out and a weapon” she gloated. Finding a sharp piece of glass, not very hard for there were tons of jagged pieces lying around, she started to saw away at her bonds and towards freedom. In a hurry, she cut her wrists more than once and soon blood was flowing down her hands forming a pool of blood on the ground, connecting with the even bigger pool she was lying in. Finally, what seemed like hours later, her bonds finally fell off her bloody hands. Wincing as her wrists throbbed with pain; she struggled to untie her feet than got up and starting running toward and open doorway, ignoring the pain in her feet from the sharp glass as they embedded themselves in her feet.
More bodies were strewn about as she half ran, half limped towards the small crawlspace that was her freedom. Breathing heavily, her heart thumping so hard she thought it would burst, she came upon the doorway. Extremely worried now that she hadn’t seen her captor in a while, as she crawled through the small hatchway, she picked up her pace. Squeezing out of the small passageway she practically flew as she ran to get out of the house. Her fear so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.
Breathing hard, she scrambled to open the locks on her door. “Why oh why did I put so many freaking locks on this door?!” she screamed. The darkness seemed impenetrable as she stepped outside, swallowing the feeble light from the inside of the house. She breathed a small sigh of relief but little did she know her misery was not quite over. Jumping the porch steps two at a time she misplaced her timing and tripped and fell the rest of the way down.
Trying to get up she realized she had twisted her ankle and could not run anymore. She cried in frustration and anger. Than she realized she was not alone anymore. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she felt his large presence. Facing the killer, she yelled, “You son of a b….” never finishing her sentence for at that moment a huge sledgehammer smashed into her head. Darkness fell and her lifeless eyes were dulled from death.
“Did you really think you would leave here, alive?” he laughed, her body already becoming cold from death’s grip in the cruel, black, night air. His maniac laughter echoed from the still woods. Evil had claimed another life… Then the silence of the night took over.

The End

this is a story i wrote a few years ago, hope you liked it!  

[Big Sad]

My friend Isabela called me one evening before dinner. She was sobbing as she told me that she and her husband Enrique were getting divorced. He had moved out of the house earlier that day and Isabela was distraught.

I called my husband, who was on a business trip in Chicago, and he agreed that I should go stay with Isabela for a few days to help her during this difficult time. I packed a small suitcase and got right into the car. It was late, and it would take me at least four hours to drive from my home to Sante Fe. Isabela was expecting me to arrive around midnight.

As I traveled down the dark, wet highway, I kept feeling chills, as if someone or something were watching me. I kept looking in the rear view mirror, and glancing into the back seat. No one was there. Don't be ridiculous, I told myself, wishing fervently that I was home in my bed instead of driving on a dark, rainy highway. There was almost no traffic, and I heartily wished that I would soon reach Sante Fe.

I turned off the highway just before I reached the city, and started down the side roads that led to Isabela's house. As I approached a small crossroads, I saw a woman step into the street directly in front of my car. I shrieked in fright and slammed on my brakes, praying I would miss her.

The car shuddered to a halt, and I looked frantically around for the woman. Then I saw her, right beside my window, looking in at me. She had the face of a demon, twisted, eyes glowing red, and short pointed teeth. I screamed as she leapt at my window, her clawed hands striking the glass. I put my foot down on the accelerator and the car leapt forward. For a few terrible moments, she ran along side the car, keeping up easily and striking at me again and again. Then she fell behind and in the rear view mirror I saw her growing taller and taller, until she was as large as a tree. Red light swirled around her like mist, and she pointed after me, her mouth moving though I could not make out the words. I jerked my attention back to the road, afraid what might happen to me if my car ran off the street.

I made it to Isabela's house in record time and flung myself out of the car, pounding on her door frantically and looking behind me to see if the demon-faced woman had followed me. Isabela came running to the door and let me in.

"Shut the door! Shut it!" I cried frantically, brushing past her into the safety of the house.

"Jane, what is wrong?" she asked, slamming the door shut. She grabbed my hand and led me into the living room. I sank onto the couch and started sobbing in fear and reaction. After several minutes, I managed to gasp out my story. Isabela gasped and said: "Are you sure you were at a crossroads when you saw her?"

I nodded, puzzled by her question.

"It must have been La malhora," Isabela said, wringing her hands.

"The bad hour?" I asked.

"This is bad, Jane. Very bad," Isabela cried. "La Malhora only appears at a crossroads when someone is going to die."

Ordinarily, I would have laughed at such a superstition, but the appearance of the demon-woman had shaken me. Isabela got me a cup of hot cocoa, brought my luggage in from the car, and sent me to bed. She was so concerned for me that she didn't once mention the divorce or Enrique.

I felt much better the next morning, but I could not shake the feeling of dread that grew within me all day. Neither of us mentioned La Malhora, but we were both thinking of her when I told Isabela that I wanted to go home. Isabela insisted on accompanying me. I flatly refused to drive after dark. I was afraid I would see the demon-woman again when I passed the crossroads.

We left the next morning, and we hadn't been home more than twenty minutes when a police car pulled into my driveway. I knew at once what it meant, and so did Isabella.

The officers spoke very gently to me, but nothing could soften the news. My husband had been mugged on the way back to his hotel after dinner last night. His body had not been found until this morning. He had been shot in the head and was killed instantly. Too long?  

[Lyan De Silva]

This is my first time writing something like this so don't be hard on me if yah don't like my story hehe xp


"The Pale Lilacs"

There was this girl named “Eileen”,
she was a young lady who’s only 14 years old at that time.
She lives on countryside which is rich on trees, grass and there is a small river too.
Eileen would always like going out to buy random books from the town’s local bookstore.
Every time she will go on the town’s local bookstore, there is this guy named “George”
That would always smile on her from afar.
(George was 21 years old at that time)
Eileen would just smile back gently at George.

One day when Eileen went to the town’s local market she saw George, who is looked troubled.
She walks near to and told him to cheer up but George didn’t bug from the chair he was sitting on.
Then Eileen whispered to George “You look much cuter when you are smiling”
When George realized that Eileen was the one, who is in front him,
He panicked and fell down on the chair that he was seating on.
Their eyes meet then with out a warning they laugh so hard about what happened.
From that day onwards they start to become closer with each other.

The town where Eileen and George are living is holds a yearly Local Evening Festival every 2nd week of September. (It is held on a hill which is believed that is blessed)
The town’s Local Festival is said to bring Good luck to couples, who become lovers on that night.
Knowing this George put up all his courage to ask Eileen to go with him on the festival.
He was planning to confess his feelings to Eileen.
Eileen agreed to with George on the festival, they agreed to meet up on the town’s local bookstore.

On the way on to the bookstore George picked up some flowers for Eileen.
He smiled as he looks at the Lilacs which he had picked.
Eileen was already on the town’s local bookstore, she saw George on the other side of the road.
Eileen shouted “You’re late!” then she smiled happily.
George answered back with a smile.
The streets are empty, because of the road blocks which are being installed for the festival.
George crossed the street towards Eileen.
But while George is crossing the street a car suddenly appears from nowhere.
George got hit by the car (which is being driven by drunken man)

Eileen rush towards George she held him while crying.
(The Lilacs are scattered all over the place)
George told Eileen “I love you”, Eileen cried louder
Then George smiled and said

“Please don’t cry, you look much cuter when you are smiling”


George died at that night…
Three years after Eileen left the town...
From then onwards every 2nd week of September at the night of the festival,
a guy would always be seen standing in front of the Town’s bookstore holding a Bouquet of Lilac…
And if you ever meet him alone he’ll give you the bouquet of Lilacs he was holding and will told you
“Go to the festival and give this to one you like”
and he will gently smile at you…

-FIN-