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(Fark)   Welcome to the 2020 "Who The Hell Needs To Be More Scared?" Fark Halloween Scary Story thread. In the spirit of the moment, the top vote getter will get a full YEAR of TF. After that, the top nine runners-up will get a month of TF. Reminder: No politics!   (fark.com) divider line
    More: Scary  
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1315 clicks; posted to Main » and Discussion » on 31 Oct 2020 at 12:03 PM (5 weeks ago)   |   Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook



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2020-10-30 12:33:37 PM  
Halloween is coming up, and it's time to start scaring the hell out of yourself. We'd like to help. Every year, Fark has a Halloween thread where Farkers share their own spooky stories. These are always fun threads, and a great way to kill some time at work. Here are the first 15 Fark scary story threads - now go creep yourself out.

2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016 2017 2018 2019
 
2020-10-30 12:34:15 PM  
Oh, and sorry for being MIA last year.  2020 hit us a bit early, but I'm back.
 
2020-10-30 12:41:51 PM  
A Hallowe'en Playlet For Your Enjoyment

[Interior: The "League of Scariness" Great Hall.  All are assembled to kick off the season.]
Dracula:  Meeting vill come to order...
[loud chatter from room]
Dracula:  I said ORDER!  Or would you rather I let all the Twilight kids into our club?
[instant silence and quiet apologies]
Imhotep [aside whisper, to Krampus]:  Drac uses that cudgel any time he wants attention.
Krampus [aside whisper, to Imhotep]:  I heard Stephenie Meyer has kompromat on Drac.
Dracula:  Now zat I haff your attention, velcome to ze 2020 Kickoff.  First order of business is to come up with [hold arms aloft] reeeeeally spoooooooky scaaaary things to invoke ze fear of ze world.  I open ze floor to ideas.
[protracted silence and hemming and hawing]
Dracula:  Seriously, you guys?  Nothing?  Ziss is open forum, we're brainstorming!
Zombie [in back row, momentarily aroused from napping]:  BRRRAAAIINNS???
Dracula:  Shut up, Carl.
Chupacabra:  Well, you see, old friend, we've been thinking about this very predicament for a while now.  What could possibly frighten people more than reality?
Dracula:  Nonsense!  You're just not thinking evil enough!  Here's a good one just off the top of my head:  Killer Asian Hornets invade Americ-
Chorus of responses from room:  It's been done!
Dracula:  What?  For real?  Sting, did you have anything to do with that?
Sting:  What?  Me?  No!  I'm a musician and poet!  I don't even know why I was invited to this meeting!  I would never harm the world just because I was given this stupid nickname when I went to primary school one day wearing a black-and-yellow striped jumper and they all made fun of me...  Okay, I admit it, that one's on me.  I got a really good deal on Asian Hornets at PlagueCo.  Couldn't help myself.
Dracula:  Well, it's not as evil as your "All For Love" trio, but it's a start.  What else?
Voldemort [tosses Dracula his iPhone]:  Here, Drac, read 'em and weep.
Dracula [starts reading news feed]:  ...Pandemic? What? When?
All [in unison]:  KEEP READING!
Dracula:  Okay, okay...  Widespread protests and riots?  Endemic social injustice?  Democracy teetering on the brink?  [pauses, slack-jawed]  Oh.  Oh no.
Dalek:  WHAT.  DOES.  IT.  SAY?
Dracula:  Due to Covid lockdown protocols, most traditional trick-or-treating is... CANCELLED!
Michael Myers:  Son of a-
Cthulhu:  Now THAT'S evil.
Dracula:  Well, it looks like 2020 has served up a truly horrifying platter of terror and chaos.  I don't think we can top it.  Motion to adjourn?
All:  AYE!
Dracula:  Okay, let'shiat Applebee's for lunch.
Imhotep [aside whisper, to Cthulhu]:  Now THAT'S evil.
[Exeunt.]
###
 
2020-10-30 12:46:11 PM  
I find a girlfriend and no longer have time for fark, yet I somehow win this contest.
 
2020-10-30 12:52:36 PM  
COVID 20, transmitted by eye contact.
 
2020-10-30 12:53:13 PM  
When I was in grade five, in the San Fernando Valley, we were trick-or-treating and heard a firework. That was actually a class mate of mine getting shot by idiot low riders. But it was only a .22, so he was back in school next year. So, not that scary.
 
2020-10-30 12:59:00 PM  
A year of TF, be very afraid.
 
2020-10-30 1:00:47 PM  
I love this thread so much.  That's why I sponsor it when I can.

Update/Clarification of sponsorship of TF:

Just because I'm too lazy to hop on at some arbitrary midnight, I'll be counting the votes around 6:30am Eastern on Sunday Nov 1st, All Saints Day.  I'm old, and I get up anyway, so might as well.

The top vote getter across both funny and smart gets a year of TF.  Other top 5 vote getters within each get a month.  Those who have won in the past know that if you already have TF, you can bank it for later (ping me when your TF expires and I'll sponsor you then), donate it to someone specific, or just pass it on to the next vote getter in line.

So lets have some fun!
 
2020-10-30 1:03:41 PM  

Turing_Machine: Oh, and sorry for being MIA last year.  2020 hit us a bit early, but I'm back.


I was worried when you didn't submit a thread last year, but I'm glad to see you back!
 
2020-10-30 1:04:59 PM  
A man went to a hotel and walked up to the front desk to check in. The woman at the desk gave him his key and told him that on the way to his room, there was a door with no number that was locked and no one was allowed in there. Especially no one should look inside the room, under any circumstances. So he followed the instructions of the woman at the front desk, going straight to his room, and going to bed.

The next night his curiosity would not leave him alone about the room with no number on the door. He walked down the hall to the door and tried the handle. Sure enough it was locked. He bent down and looked through the wide keyhole. Cold air passed through it, chilling his eye. What he saw was a hotel bedroom, like his, and in the corner was a woman whose skin was completely white. She was leaning her head against the wall, facing away from the door. He stared in confusion for a while. He almost knocked on the door, out of curiosity, but decided not to.

This disinclination saved his life. He crept away from the door and walked back to his room. The next day, he returned to the door and looked through the wide keyhole. This time, all he saw was redness. He couldn't make anything out besides a distinct red color, unmoving. Perhaps the inhabitants of the room knew he was spying the night before, and had blocked the keyhole with something red.

At this point he decided to consult the woman at the front desk for more information. She sighed and said, "Did you look through the keyhole?" The man told her that he had and she said, "Well, I might as well tell you the story. A long time ago, a man murdered his wife in that room, and her ghost haunts it. But these people were not ordinary. They were white all over, except for their eyes, which were red."
 
2020-10-30 1:09:26 PM  
Good evening, boys and ghouls.   Hahaha.  Tonight, I, the master of the macabre will share with you a tale so horrifying that your eyeballs might just explode!

It was a night just like any other.  A cold wind blew down from the mountains and left a chill  upon everything.  A man.  An everyman actually, made his way home along a dark and deserted road.  Suddenly!  And without warning, his car stopped.  The engine; we won't say it dies but it was clearly bereft of life.  An ex-engine, one might suppose.  An engine that might have gone to join the choir invisible others might say.  He tried to start the car several times before giving up.  He looked at his phone.  No bars.  No bars for several miles according to Google Maps.  And the closest one only had one star and the review said "Locals Only".  Sad and desperate, the man made his way along the road.  Off in the distance - what was that?  A faint rapping sound.  Constant but faint.  No one around.

He continued along the road. The faint rapping sound grew louder as he progressed.  Still nothing else.  No caw of a crow or a moo of a horse pretending to be a cow.  The last one that tried that wound up a McDonalds and not stuck in the drive thru.  The man moved along.  No cars on this desolate road.

The rapping sound grew louder.  Off the side of a side road towered an old house.  Not a light shone from this house?  Deserted or unpaid utility bills?  Only one way to find out.  Two if you could access the house's mail but the man did not have this power.  As he approached the house, the rapping sound grew louder.  Clearly it emanated from this very house!

The man stepped upon the porch.  He cried out a greeting that went unanswered.  He silently prayed for a hillbilly to appear suddenly and cut him down with a shotgun blast as they are wont to do.  It would be merciful.  But no.  No hillbilly.  No warm and toasty shotgun blast tearing through his torso.  Only the rapping sound coming from within.

Of course, the door was unlocked.  What mad god would have it otherwise?  Inside, the rapping sound was loud yet not yet deafening.  It came from above!  There was one of those wide Victorian staircases before him.  He took the servant's elevator instead. Stairs creeped him out.  Up to the top level.  That's where the accursed rapping noise came from!  Down the hallway, he moved warily as warily blocked his way.  To the master bedroom, the horrid noise came from!  It was now deafening whereas in previous paragraphs it was merely loud or near-deafening.    He opened the door to the master bedroom.  An old four poster bed and various furniture was all he could see.  Did I mention his eyes had grown accustomed to the dark.  It was implied, okay?  The rapping sound was here yet not in this room!  His eyes, accustomed to the darkness, spied a closet.  Here was where that accursed rapping sound came from!  He flew to the door having mastered short range flight last week.  He tore open the door instead of using the doorknob.  There it was!  He saw with his own eyes which were to explode from his head the source of the rapping sound!

Wrapping paper.

Goodnight, boys and ghouls...  quit kicking me through the internet.  Jerks.
 
2020-10-30 1:09:27 PM  
I used to work in a one story building that had a long tiled hallway running the length of it in both directions.  If you were in the building alone, sometimes you would hear someone walking down the hallway, and they would stop outside your door.  This would be unusual, because it was a fairly secure facility, and you can hear people enter the building.  The weird part is when you went to look, there was no one there.

Nobody liked working in that part of the facility when they were alone.
 
2020-10-30 1:11:42 PM  
Scary thing to see: transverse view, poorly attached fresh thrombus bobbing in the common femoral vein, moving with the bloodflow, and watch as a bit breaks off and disappears from view.

Translation: blood clot now headed to heart, and possibly lung.
 
2020-10-30 1:12:35 PM  
Okay, here goes. This has the added bonus of being absolutely true.

Back in my younger days (in my early 20's in the early '90's), I started a band. I was really into experimental music, and I was doing everything I could think of to try and get something different in songwriting and recording. I had owned a Ouija board when I was a kid, but never did a whole lot with it. I decided to dig it out of my closer, try it again, and see if it was possible to get it to write song lyrics.

So, I got my best friend to come over to my house. We put the Ouija board on our knees as we sat cross-legged on the floor facing each other. I had a pen and a notebook full of blank paper at my side. We both put our fingers on the planchette and concentrated on asking if a spirit if it would write us song lyrics that we could use.

Now, I have to say, I do not believe in ghosts or the afterlife. I'm one of those people that thinks ghost stories are not scary, since they assume some sort of life after death. That's much more reassuring to me than the thought of simply not existing! But for the purposes of experimental music, we gave it a try.

Anyway, we asked for the lyrics, and after a few short moments, the planchette started to move from letter to letter. I wrote it down, one letter at a time. There was no way to indicate space between the words, so it basically came out in a very long string of letters, which I wrote down in the notebook one by one. They were not legible as words as I wrote them down. It looked like gibberish at the time.

Anyway, here is the lyrics it came up with:

Die all you nuts all you unbelievers
I wish you freaks could live in my head
I wish for once you would stay away
And not bother me every day
You bother me every day
Never ask if what I say be true
Questions should not be asked by you
How come you gotta spread them silly lies
Why go gotta try and hurt me
You aint nothing special you
You aint no damn prize
Dream on little dreamer
Your nightmares just about through
Look there goes the hatred
And now its all you


We were pretty astounded. I had no clue that the lyrics were rhyming until I broke it down later. We asked the "spirit" it's name, and it said it wanted to be credited as "Larry Kitpho; Deceased". He said he was born and died in the same year my friend and I were born - 1970.

I know I didn't write those lyrics. I'm pretty sure my friend didn't write them either, but it's a possibility. I should point out that if my friend did write it and was putting me on, he basically had to improvise rhyming lyrics letter by letter, and the way he was facing the board - he also had to do it upside down.

So, what happened? Again, I don't believe in ghosts. The notebook that I wrote the original long string of letters in is long gone, but I really wish I had kept it. I habitually misspelled "believe" back then, and it would have been very interesting to me to see if the original string of letters had spelled it right or not. I have a hard time thinking my friend had the patience and spontaneous creativity to write it himself, and I didn't write it, and I don't believe in ghosts. Maybe there's some sort of untapped subconscious thing we have?

I know a lot of people won't believe this, and I don't blame them. If it hadn't happened to me, I wouldn't have believed it myself.
 
2020-10-30 1:13:24 PM  
I hear dad jokes are the new hot trend for 2021.
 
2020-10-30 1:13:42 PM  
In the morning the surgeon surveyed his work: after years of painstakingly studying the Human Centipede, he had finally succeeded with his own blasphemous aberration! His magnum opus completed, the new creature slowly slithered out from under the gore-stained sheets and gasped in air, reeling under a raised arm from the glaring overhead theater lights...

Lungs full, the obscenity released the anticipated, moist noises: a voice of a demon, carefully crafted, began to roar like the Seventh Trumpet; Dr. Jive had successfully combined the vocal chords of Fran Drescher, Gilbert Gottfried, "Bobcat" Goldthwait, and Nancy Grace with the mouth of Stephen Tyler, and put them in Carrot Top's body.

"BE FREE MY CHILD!" the doctor squealed in delight as the meat mass meandered out towards Nashville, dreaming of recording a yodelling record with Fred Durst and Scott Stapp.
 
2020-10-30 1:15:05 PM  

Turing_Machine: I love this thread so much.  That's why I sponsor it when I can.


Thank you for your generosity. It is greatly aprpeciated.
 
2020-10-30 1:21:57 PM  
In other news, this week the SyFyLys channel announced its long anticipated new lineup of macro-series: "Stargate: Caprica", "Quantum Leap Sliders", the Dr. Who Transgender Wrasslin' Hour", "The Bionic Dog II: Electric Kickapoo", "Firefly Season 2, the Crew Washes Out", and FarknadoTV.
 
2020-10-30 1:22:03 PM  
My son's grandfather still hangs around, but he's not scary.  The most recent thing that happened was I got home one day and an old book of kid's stories had been knocked on the floor, with a piece of paper next to it.

When I first saw it, I didn't think anything of it. Just went on with things, putting my stuff down and letting the dogs out. Then I went to pick it up and realized it really could not have fallen the way it did, from where it was, on its own. Then I picked up the paper.
Fark user imageView Full Size

It says "my name is special because it is after my grandfather".

That sheet is from when my son was in first or second grade. He's in 5th now. The only place I keep old artwork like that is in a box way at the top of my closet. I'm 100% sure it was nowhere near the living room, where I found it, and no one could have gotten it down without me knowing.
 
2020-10-30 1:23:47 PM  
When I was in college I got married.
We rented a house in the next town over.
Life was good.

I took a several day long road trip with some friends.  I told my wife I would probably be back later in the day on Sunday.

It was a good road trip, but on the way back my friends decided to drive all night to get back earlier, so we all took turns driving.

I arrived back home about 8am. From the car I could see my wife sitting at the kitchen table in her bathrobe drinking coffee.  Like she always did.  They dropped me off and I went inside through the kitchen door as I always did.

I hung up my jacket on the hook behind the door.  As I always did.

I turned around to look at my wife but something was not right.

She was sitting in her chair, holding a cup of coffee.
Across from her was someone wearing my bathrobe and also holding a cup of coffee.
It looked like me.  Same height, same build, same color hair.

I felt dizzy as if the blood was draining from my body.
I said nothing as I walked by the table where my doppelganger sat wearing my bathrobe and drinking from my coffee cup.
My wife said nothing as I walked by the table where my doppelganger sat wearing my bathrobe and drinking from my coffee cup.

I walked into the bedroom and curled up on the bed with a pillow.  I must be dreaming.  This is a dream.  A bad dream and I will wake up soon and I put on my bathrobe and I will make myself a cup of coffee and I will sit at the kitchen table with my wife, as we always do.  I will tell her the story of my bad dream and she will reassure me that it was just a bad dream.

I heard the kitchen door close.
I heard footsteps.  They got closer. Then I heard my wife's voice: "YOU CAME HOME EARLY!  THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

My eyes were still closed.  Perhaps now would be a good time to wake up?
I could put on my bathrobe.  I could make a cup of coffee.
Or I could just continue to pretend this was just a bad dream.
 
2020-10-30 1:29:20 PM  
...and then I looked at my phone. The time said, 1:01 a.m. Dec. 32, 2020 - it wasn't over!!!

THE END
 
2020-10-30 1:30:27 PM  
Na na na na na na na na BATMAN!
Na na na na na na na na BATMAN!

Robin: Man this Sucks - Batman hand me some Toilet Paper!
[BAM POW - Walmart - BAM POW - Lowes - BAM POW - Krogers - BAM POW - FoodLion]
Batman: Ahhh we are out!!
Robin: Well shiat, hand me some sandpaper Paper Towels!!
[BAM POW - Walmart - BAM POW - Lowes - BAM POW - Krogers - BAM POW - FoodLion]
Batman:  Ahh Robin you ain't going to believe this no Paper Towels!!
[Robin looking incredulous]
Robin: Well double shiat, Get me some baby wipes at least!!!
[BAM POW - Walmart - BAM POW - Lowes - BAM POW - Krogers - BAM POW - FoodLion]
Batman:  Man 2020 sucks; Robin no babywipes either.
[Robin desprately screams]
Robin:  Get me something to wipe this shiat off!!!
[BAM POW - Walmart - BAM POW - Lowes - BAM POW - Krogers - BAM POW - FoodLion]
[Batman grabes a neighbors newspaper]
Batman: Here use this newspaper, it certainly goes with the shiatty news!!!

Na na na na na na na na BATMAN!
Na na na na na na na na BATMAN!
 
2020-10-30 1:31:15 PM  
"Sin Aesthetic"

Dorpa answered the phone in response to its special ring that indicated someone was calling her from the lobby of her apartment building. "Hello?"
"Uh, hi," said the reverberating, attenuated voice on the other end. "I'm here about the couches?"
"Come on up! Apartment 304."

She pressed 6 on the receiver to unlock the lobby door and waited patiently for the gentleman to come up. She looked around the living room again. The walls were a deceptively flat maroon, but the rainbow legs of her coffee table peeked out from under the tie-died tablecloth, atop which was a crystal vase containing an artful arrangement of crocuses, posies, daisies, orchids, violets, honeysuckle, and baby's breath.

Accompanying them, and bracketing the coffee table on two sides were the couches she had posted for sale online. Their flower pattern wasn't quite as colourful, being predominantly brown and orange with splashes of green and yellow, but they were a symphony all their own -- and she meant that quite literally. Dorpa was a synesthete, which meant that the part of her brain responsible for processing sensory input had a few crossed wires. There are numerous different kinds of synesthesia; some people associated colours with numbers and letters; for others, numbers and letters occupied different positions in space. Dorpa was a colour-sound synesthete, which meant that she associated certain colours with certain musical notes and instruments.

The sensation was quite strong, and as such everything she saw made sound. Much of the time, particularly walking around in public, it was just a jumble of random notes, like an orchestra warming up, all tuning their instruments at the same time. Art galleries were always a mixed bag. She liked the most of the sounds of Renoir, Monet, and da Vinci, but Picasso, Van Gough, Munch, and Dali all evoked various levels of cacophony that she couldn't stand to be around.

It was with this aural aesthetic that she chose her surroundings. It mattered not so much that her paints, furnishings and decorative notions looked good to the average eye, but that it sounded good to the synesthetic ear, and especially that it sounded good with the rest of the room. Her choice of wall paint, for example, provided a nice, constant, low-pitched drone of a cello that served as a foundation for the rest of the things in the room to build their symphony upon.

It was her couches that bothered her, though. They sounded lovely at the thrift store, and their colour scheme and flowery pattern were in a key that matched her wall paint. To most people however, they were hideous, and so they were marked cheaply, which suited Dorpa just fine. She had them delivered to her home, and once they were brought in and put in place, they did sound rather nice, but after a while she realized that they fell flat somewhere, like an orchestra that was missing a crucial section. They unbalanced the room -- like too many strings and not enough piano. Over time, that began to bother her quite seriously. That was why she decided she had to do something with them, hence her post online inviting someone to come and take them.

There was a knock at the door. The man had finally made it up the elevator. She went over, unlatched the chain lock, turned the deadbolt, and opened the door to invite him in.

"Come in, please. The couches are right over there," Dorpa waved a hand toward the living room where the couches awaited.

The man politely removed his shoes and headed into the living room. Dorpa followed behind after closing the door behind him.

"Wow," the man said as he regarded the couches. "That is some serious 70s kitsch. It's great! I have a thing for 60s and 70s styles, you know. Lava lamps, bean bag chairs, disco balls -- you ought to see my place, it's like stepping back in time."

"I'll bet," Dorpa replied. Clearly he was stuck in the past and almost certainly lived alone, but otherwise he seemed perfectly harmless and utterly mesmerized by the couch. That's why he didn't even notice Dorpa's knife slicing his throat open.

She worked quickly. She made sure to cut deep enough to sever the vocal cords so he couldn't scream, but not all the way through. She needed some control. She quickly supported him from behind with one arm under his and around the barrel of his chest, while the other held his head back, allowing her to aim the twin jets of arterial spray.

In as measured a manner as she could, she directed him this way and that until his heart finally stopped beating. She then stepped back to regard her work. Now that was perfect. The swaths of blood red across the couches provided just the right note to complete the symphony. Now the couches sang harmoniously with the rest of the room. Dorpa was rather pleasantly surprised to note that the man's lifeless corpse, now slumped on the floor, added a couple of bass notes and a C-major chord that played a fascinating and unexpected counterpoint. She was rather disappointed now that she'd have to get rid of the body.
 
2020-10-30 1:33:51 PM  
And just for the hell of it, a funny-creepy one.

"Grams"

"Grams," said Crete gingerly. This wasn't the sort of thing you just mentioned casually.
Grams was either ignoring him, or couldn't hear him in her advancing age.
"Grams," Crete tried again.
Grams sat perfectly still, staring at nothing specific.
"Grammy," Crete said, a little louder, changing his tack a little.
No response.
"Grams!" he called, this time much louder.
That got her attention. "What?" she replied irritably.
"Your arm's off." He hadn't meant to just blurt it straight out; she didn't just drop a cookie, but
his patience was wearing a little thin.
"Excuse me?" she said with an incredulous tone.
"Your arm," Crete repeated, pointing at the floor. "It fell off."
"No it didn't." Grams said simply, refusing to follow his finger.
"It's right there," Crete insisted, motioning more urgently toward the fallen limb.
"My arm is just fine. See?" Her shoulder moved sightly under her flower-print dress, but the vacant
sleeve just swayed slightly. Grams seemed to notice that something wasn't quite right. She furrowed
her brow, looked over at her shoulder, and followed it down to where the rest of her arm should have
been. She waggled her shoulder experimentally, as if that would shake her arm loose from wherever it
had gotten stuck. The sleeve swayed piteously. She peered over her lap to the floor where Crete was
still pointing. "Bugger," Grams lamented.

Crete noted the sad look on her face. "I'll get it," he said, getting up out of his chair. He bent
over and grabbed the limb. It was cold, and the skin hung alarmingly loose on the bones. It flopped
in his hand as the elbow straightened out. Crete was creeped out beyond measure, and he handed it
back to his grandmother, unable to completely keep the look of mixed disgust and horror off his face.

Grams took the limb with her remaining hand, worked it into the hanging sleeve and mashed it back
into its socket. Despite having seen it before, he was still surprised not only because it stayed
put, but continued to work, too. It only further reaffirmed the fact that when Grams had died, she
really should have stayed dead. Sure, at first, it was incredible. Grams had come back to life half
an hour after being declared legally dead, and everyone in the family was ecstatic to have her back
when they thought they'd all lost her.

But it didn't take long before everyone started realizing that something was very wrong. She spent a
day completely unable to move because of what everyone later realized was rigor mortis. After the
rigor broke, she was quite sprightly, moreso than her usual self. That only lasted a few days though.
Gradually, her skin began to sag and her movements started slowing down. She didn't seem to be in any
pain - indeed, she didn't seem to feel any pain at all, as was evidenced by the time she bent over to
pick up her stockings and smacked her head on a table. She didn't even notice. Everyone else noticed,
however - nobody had witnessed the event, nor did she tell anyone, but the persistent dent in the
skin of her forehead coupled with the absence of any bruising made everyone to start suspecting she
hadn't quite come back to the same sort of life she had before she died.

The final proof came when Crete's brother, Orfis, during an argument over the "resurrection" came
straight out and told her that she should have stayed dead. Grams slapped him, and because his head
recoiled in the direction of the slap, he was able to follow her hand as it tumbled across the room
and landed in the dog's water dish. The dog, ever curious, went over to the water dish to take a
sniff, yelped, then ran and hid under the couch. Grams was so angry that she went and snatched the
hand and shoved it back onto her wrist. It took her a minute to realize what had just transpired. She
looked at her hand and wiggled her fingers. She spent only a moment in stunned disbelief before she
realized it meant she could slap him again. So she did. That was two weeks ago.

"Grams, we need to talk about this," Crete said gently.
"There's nothing to talk about," Grams replied in a flat but firm tone.
"Grams, don't you see what's happening?"
"I said there's nothing to ta-" That was as far as she got before the pressure in her mouth from the
forceful consonant shot her tongue across the room to land with a plop on an end table. The dog
reflexively crawled under the couch.

Grams stared regretfully at the damp organ lying on the end table. "Ma haom," she said sadly, a
single tear rolling down her cheek, followed by her eye.

Crete sighed. She was getting worse. He got up from his chair once again and headed to the kitchen to
grab some tongs. Upon returning, he saw that she had grabbed her fallen eye and appeared to be
looking at herself with it. "Grams," he started.
She pointed the eye in her hand at him. "Ma haom!" she said loudly.
Crete rolled his eyes in the normal way the living are wont to do and walked over to the end table.
He grabbed the tongue gingerly between the tongs and carried it over to Grams, dropping it in her
other outstretched palm before sitting down again. He decided to keep the tongs handy.

Grams shoved the tongue back in her mouth and worked her jaw for several moments, then popped her eye
back in.
"Grams," Crete tried again.
"I don't want to hear it," Grams said softly.
"You know I'm right."
"I know no such thing!" Grams snapped.
"You're falling apart - literally! And it's only getting worse." Crete pleaded.

Grams stared at him for what seemed like a long time. Her left eye slowly drifted to one side of its
own accord. "When I died in that hospital and my soul left my body, I could see all of my loving
family gathered around and weeping for my loss. It made me sad, so, so sad. I didn't want to pass
into eternity being sad, and I certainly didn't want to make all of you sad. I don't know what
happened, but next thing I know I woke up and was back with all of you, and all I knew was that I
never wanted to leave any of you ever again. And I won't. I won't, do you hear me?"

Crete sighed and studied his shoes. It was an effective guilt trip. How could he respond to that
without seeming insensitive? He loved his grandmother, he really did, and everyone was sad to see her
go, but it was just her time. She had had a long and fulfilling life, and just as everyone must at
some point, it was her time to pass on and let the living go on doing so. But he couldn't say that
without it coming off sounding like he wanted her to die. Again. Or whatever it was zombies did when
they ceased to function.

It was clear that the only thing that could be done now was to wait for her become so decomposed that
she couldn't do anything without something falling off. That couldn't possibly be much longer.
"Alright," Crete resigned. "As you wish. Can I get you anything?"
Grams thought a moment. "Well, I am feeling a bit peckish."
"Sure," Crete said. "What would you like?"
Grams stared at him. Her demeanour seemed to shift slightly. She raised an eyebrow and gave a slight,
droopy smile as her eyes narrowed. She licked her lips.
All at once, Crete understood the look. "Oh crap."

Grams leaped.
 
2020-10-30 1:39:13 PM  
I came home for Thanksgiving my freshman year of college. A friend dropped me off shortly after sunset, and I came in through the garage.

I was greeted by a woman's voice saying "Hello?"

"It's me!" I replied, thinking maybe a friend of my parent's or siblings' was there.

My mom shouted from inside, "We're in the kitchen!"

I go there and see my parents. Mom asks, "Who's your friend?"

"What?"

"The girl who said hello when you came inside."

"I... thought that was someone in the house."

"No... your brother and sister went to the store, and nobody else is here."

Dad and I looked around the house, and found nobody. The house was small and old enough that we would have heard anyone exiting through one of the three squeaky doors with creaky floors. The house was on a four acre lot, surrounded by woods with a single access road, so nobody could have made a getaway in a car unnoticed.

Aaaand... that's all there is. No sinister backstory on the house that we know of, and whatever ghostly presence we heard didn't wake up or disturb our dog.

The turkey was dry and stringy and we forgot one of the side dishes we'd left to keep warm in the oven, though. The horror, the horror...
 
2020-10-30 1:45:46 PM  
Malik Abdullah met Cathal Ó Coileáin on the stony shoreline, the few occupants on the foggy shore and Malik's longboat looking around nervously. "Take your time moving the cargo, it is very heavy, we shielded it well." He continued in his heavy Lybian accent: "... We didn't want it easily seen by neutron detectors in town or from the new satellites". The crowd crossed themselves and went to work loading the large olive drab case into the lorry. Payment had already been exchanged and instructions were passed over. "I strongly recommend that you get someone who can read Rus to double-check the instructions, our original source in Turkmenistan didn't speak it as a first language."

The deal now concluded, Catal watched the skiff head back out into the grey and vanish. Soon and very soon, the accursed English and their lapdog would also likewise vanish into the ashes of history: Ireland is one island, and if the Reformed IRA couldn't free that last colonized corner from the damned Crown, then no onecould have that soil ever again.

"Pogue mo hoin ya fookin' bastards!" he cried out as the truck lurched forward, lumbering off towards Belfast. One way or another, this would be a Samhain bonefire that the world would never forget.
 
2020-10-30 1:46:59 PM  
My aunt and uncle had an old fisherman's house as a summer home in Sweden that they claimed was haunted by his ghost. Apparently the old fisherman used to hang his nets up in the attic. They would warn all their friends who went to the house about it.

A couple of them said they heard some noises but nothing that couldn't be explained by the place settling as the temperature changed at night, that was until one couple stayed there. Now this couple had been there several times before and visited during the day. Apparently they were hearing noises coming from upstairs and were starting to get annoyed about it. They decided to turn on the TV and the louder they turned up the volume the louder the noise was from upstairs.

They started getting really frightened because the staircase to go upstairs was right outside the door to their bedroom. Eventually they said they heard the noises move towards those stairs and they bailed out the bedroom window and drove home (which was a couple of hours away) in the middle of the night. They have refused to even come back to the town (Karlskrona) ever since.

On a side note I stayed in that old house many times (I even slept upstairs) and never saw or heard anything that scared me or led me to believe that ghosts existed.
 
2020-10-30 1:49:58 PM  
The house I grew up in was built at the turn of the century.  Apparently there were spirits in there.  I never noticed much but all my family members did.  There were even instances of multiple people witnessing the same thing.

The only thing that personally happened to me was I was standing in the doorway of my brothers room and was talking to him and his friend.  Someone put their hand on my shoulder as if they wanted to get in the door.  I turned around, nobody there.  Freaked me out a little.

My sister was visited one night by a "faceless boy in a tuxedo".
 
2020-10-30 1:50:04 PM  
It'd be pretty scary if I forgot to bookmark this thread.
 
2020-10-30 1:51:22 PM  
All haunted houses have a story. But not all haunted houses sing it as a rock opera.

GHOSTS OF BROADWAY
 
2020-10-30 1:53:50 PM  
I once got followed back to my apartment by a woman who I talked to for at a party. For 10 minutes. While I was waiting for the woman I was interested in to show up.

Not scary enough for you? You lack imagination.
 
2020-10-30 1:56:39 PM  
I hope we get more 1st person stories that at least have the premise of being real. The 3rd person ones make my eyes glaze over.
 
2020-10-30 1:58:30 PM  
"Mommy, mommy, get me some of that candy, please!"

"Hush, child. I'll lay some on your gravestone the next time we visit."
 
2020-10-30 1:59:37 PM  
This is the same story I told last year and possibly the year before that. Not sure if it counts as spooky, but it is damned creepy. It is completely true.

The chairman of the department where I started grad school for my doctorate lived in a pretty nice neighborhood (for that crappy town) in a fairly nice, big house. It had a pool, a huge room with a bar, pool table and some pinball machines. The only bad thing about the house was that immediately behind the backyard was an interstate highway. It was a couple of hundred feet from the property with lots of trees between them and the highway, but the noise was non-stop. He hosted parties for students there regularly. He seemed very satisfied that he had purchased the house for a steal because several members of a family had been murdered there. He even joked that there was still blood on the carpets the first time he saw the house. I heard him tell the story several times. He's a scientist and not likely to believe in ghosts or haunted houses.

A couple of years after I learned about the murders in the house there was a large car crash on the highway immediately behind the house. There were at least two fatalities in one vehicle. The fatalities were surviving members of the family who had been murdered in the house. The newspaper even mentioned that in the story.
 
2020-10-30 2:01:43 PM  
Danielle accidentally knocked a refrigerator magnet off the door as she slapped it shut in a rush, sloshing the half gallon of milk as she spun around to deliver nutrition to her daughter's otherwise raw sugar breakfast cereal. Dani froze in step at one glance at her daughter Jennifer, who was likewise locked in terror, face flushed. Jennifer had clearly pissed herself which was absolutely unacceptable for a 9 year old but she was getting a pass today, what with that shriveled, rotting hand sliding off of Jennifer's leg and back out of view under the kitchen table. As Danielle dropped the milk and dove at her daughter, something yanked her backwards by the hair, hard, and Dani screeched out some kind of garbled noise as three more rotting hands clamped around her eyes, mouth and throat, slamming her to the floor. Now Jennifer was also screaming at the top of her lungs, but Dani could not tell her to run with the hard fingers probing at her tongue and teeth. Spiraling into darkness, screaming was the last thing Danielle ever heard until the coroner's saw cut open her sternum.
 
2020-10-30 2:01:58 PM  
My very large, military brother has a bunch. Spirits love him.  He rented a place in Petersburg, Va that all his buddies were afraid of.  One guy stayed with them for a training weekend and woke up with someone picking up the corner of his air mattress and dropping it, repeatedly.  It was 3am, no one in the house was awake. My brother would wake up to someone pulling his blankets up and tucking him in, once they laid a hand on his face.

After he moved, he went back to get his motorcycle and ran into the guy who rented it after him. They chatted for a bit, then the guy's kid came out. The guy said "Hey, this is Captain (last name), he lived here before us."

And the kid said "I know, the lady told me."
 
2020-10-30 2:09:24 PM  
I need you to understand how much this hurts. I can feel the wall behind me, it hurts so bad! Mommy said I couldn't play with the cap gun in her purse. Mommy lied to me. Mommy said it was her little toy and I could have one some day but I wanted one now and she said it didn't have any caps anyway and the shiny bit clicked and mommy lied to me MOMMY WHY DID YOU LIE TO ME IT HURTS SO BAD YOU LIED YOU SAID IT DIDN'T HAVE CAPS AND IT WAS SO LOUD MOMMY WHY?!?!?
 
2020-10-30 2:11:43 PM  
Way back when I was in high school in the early 1990s a group of us decided to have a party down at a secluded part of the local river. We had a short lived keg that was bought by the older brother of one of my classmates. I say short lived because a couple of the girls decided to stop by the local grocery store before heading to the river (less than a mile away) and beg people to buy them beer. Now not being the brightest in our class this led them to having the cops called on them. Apparently they saw the cops pull into the parking lot and they decided that it would be a good idea to run from the cops. Where did they go you ask? Straight to the party, with the cops in hot pursuit. They got off with a stern warning and the cops got an almost full keg. We were given the option of getting cited for alcohol possession and have everyone taken to jail since we were underage or we could just give them the keg and keep quiet. We chose the latter.

The spooky stuff started happening soon after the cops left. We had about 50 kids with only a six pack to split between us about an hour after sunset. We were brainstorming as to how to get more beer when we saw a couple of flashes of light to the South of us that looked like it was just behind the nearest mountain about two miles away. These flashes were bright as lightning, flashed like a strobe but had no sound. It should be mentioned that thunderstorms are extremely rare here and there was no chance that this was lightning due to the weather at the time. A couple of us saw it but most didn't. A minute or two later it happened again and almost everyone saw it. A few minutes went by and it happened a third time. Suddenly someone yelled "Let's go get it" and all aspirations of getting drunk were pushed aside to discover what was making the flashes of light.

We piled into about ten cars and started tearing up a mountain road watching the flashes that seemed to come at a fairly regular interval. We crested the first mountain only to see that the flashes seemed to be just behind the next one a few miles down the road. We crested that mountain only to discover that the flashes were no closer. We kept going for about 10-15 miles but we just couldn't get to where the flashes were coming from, they always seemed to be just over the next ridge. We were way out in the middle of nowhere when the flashes finally stopped. The moon was coming up and we could see some cows up on a hill above us when someone shouted "Let's go cow tipping".

None of us had ever gone cow tipping before but we were teenagers that just had all their beer stolen by the cops to what else were we going to do? We jumped out of the cars, got through the fence and ran up to a cow on the top of the hill about 100 yards from the fence. You may be asking why I mentioned that the fence was 100 yards away. The answer is simple, the cow we ran up to wasn't a cow but was a bull and wasn't very happy about 20 kids running up to it in the middle of the night. We turned and ran in terror as fast as we could. It was every man for himself and I wasn't about to look back. A couple kids tripped and fell but we all made it back OK, except for one who tripped and fell into a bunch of cow shiat and got pretty covered in it. He had to sit all alone in the back of a pickup as we drove back. We never got the keg back and to this day I have no idea what made those flashes.

TLDR: A bunch of kids got their beer stolen by the cops, chased a weird flashing light in the sky and went cow tipping only to be chased by a bull. 10\10 would do it again in a heartbeat because it's a great memory from my teen years.
 
2020-10-30 2:13:07 PM  
A true story from around 1994 or so...  I had a couple of friends (Rob and Paul) I hung out with most of the time.  We would do experimental Ouija sessions fairly regularly at Paul's house.  The results were fairly spotty but more often than not we would have some coherent Q&A sessions via the board.  2 of us would operate the planchette while the other would write down the results in a notebook.  We would rotate in and out of the note taker role several times per session.

Rob had taken up an interest in high magick around this time and showed up to one of these sessions with a protection candle that he picked up at some occult book shop downtown.  Paul and I agreed it couldn't hurt so the candle was lit and the session began.  We got nothing but gibberish for a good 30 minutes.  The planchette moved but nothing coherent was coming though.  I was sitting on Paul's bed taking notes and Rob and Paul were on the floor with the board.

We surmised that maybe the candle was working TOO well since these were the worst results we ever had before.  It was decided to snuff the protection candle out and proceed.  The planchette began to move again and it spelled out H-E-L-L-O.  At that moment, a deep, guttural growl came from just outside the window next to the bed I was sitting on.  It was loud enough that it vibrated the glass.

I came scrambling off the bed, completely freaked out.  The window was on the second floor of the house and this inhuman growling noise was literally coming from right outside of it!  Rob and Paul scrambled backwards on the carpet and planted their back against the far wall.  We all looked at each other wide eyed and stunned.  Rob finally yelled, "Light the f*cking candle"!

I grabbed the lighter off the floor, lit the candle then I joined them on the far wall.  We just sat in silence staring at the window and listening for several minutes before we regained our composure.  We stayed extra late that night and kept the candle burning the whole time.  Even then we were still freaked out heading to our cars after we left.

That was also the end of 'Oujia Fun Night' for us all.
 
2020-10-30 2:16:00 PM  
No matter how much Drano I pour down the tub drain, I can still see eyes staring back at me. Some days it's one big one, other days there are many. I even tried jabbing a knife down there a few times out of desperation but nothing stops them from coming back. The plumbers won't return my calls anymore, none of them. My friends stopped answering too. Today the knife came back bloody and three eyes laughed at me.
 
2020-10-30 2:24:52 PM  
I was in my early twenties I had just finished my morning paper route.  I saw a hitch-hiker on the side of the road and started to pull over to the side of the road as I was considering giving him a lift.  I rolled down the window and was reaching to turn down the radio when I bumped the wrong button.  Instead of turning down the radio, I simultaneously increased the volume and switched it to the cassette deck.  The tape just happened to be a recording I had made a few months prior of a local morning radio show. The group was named the Rug Burns and they were playing one of their songs. Suddenly, the following lyrics come blaring through my speakers even as I tried to lower the volume
"Don't pick up,
Hitch-hiker Joe
He'll slit your throat
Cut off your big toe
He'll make you smile
From ear to ear
Gonna lock you in a trunk
For 99 years."

I felt a huge shiver and I felt like death had warmed over.  A thousand thoughts sped through my head at the coincidence(?) of those lyrics and that instant.  I mouthed the words "Sorry, Dude..." and pulled away from the curb at what could in no way be considered an unmanly pace.

I will always wonder if I actually dodged a bullet on that one or not.
 
2020-10-30 2:30:18 PM  
meg12279: ... and no one could have gotten it down without me knowing.

well he is referred to as the "GRAB FATHER".
 
2020-10-30 2:32:12 PM  
A weird crunch is the only way I can describe the hollow sound when the spade went through the concrete easier than I would have expected. This was a very old Northern house, prewar, but at least one of the previous owners had done somewhat modern renovations. We strongly suspected that the basement wetness was more likely a slab leak than just frost heave so here I was breaking up the mismatched concrete looking for the culprit pipe(s). I had thought it was unusual for PVC to be in such old work (a child had left hand prints and a year: 1964) but instead it was an ulna or a radius. Then ribs and a shattered spine. Eventually we pulled out the femurs and skulls too. So many skulls. I keep digging down and I just keep finding more and more skulls, some of them so... small. Oh God, this one had a Raggedy Ann doll with it.
 
2020-10-30 2:45:49 PM  
I usually have one or two creepy things happen per year that I post about here. Some make better stories than others. I'm sure I'm missing a few, but the only thing that comes to mind right now is Jr. Geologist 2, not quite two years old, toddling around the front yard as we're putting up our Halloween decorations, saying "Hi, baby! Hi baby! Hi baby!" to all the ghosts.

So happy it's time for this thread again!
 
2020-10-30 3:12:40 PM  
A few months ago, I started using both CBD and edibles to help with sleep. One night, I mixed CBD, edibles, and melatonin and had some of the most awful nightmares. I awoke suddenly around 3am, and I was unable to move.

as my eyes darted around the room and adjusted slightly to the dark, I could make out the outline of a figure standing at the foot of the bed.

I tried to move, but couldnt. I tried to scream, but couldnt. The fear was intensifying exponentially.

Then, as if my muscles were coming back to life, I yelled. Then, the figure yelled. We were both yelling.

Turns out it was my kid who was sleepwalking and we both scared the ever loving shiat out of each other.

Anyways.... edibles. Fun times...
 
2020-10-30 3:15:33 PM  
Okay, true story time (no really).

About ten years ago when I was still living in the 'wild hood' in Jaxsuckvile, Florida, I was in a declining apartment complex that was in a more desperate part of town. It wasn't the worst neighborhood, that was two blocks over at Caravan, but ours was quickly declining into a close second. The two buildings behind us going further back to the fence line with an adjacent abandoned property were deserted and boarded up, looking like something out of late 1970s New York City. The closest dumpster to our apartment was usually full and overflowing so sometimes I would bite the bullet and risk walking in the dark down to the only other one on our side of the 'plex. Did I mention that most of the street lights and building lights were dead? Yeah. On a moonless night it was creeptastic and unnerving in a city with a shooting a nigh guaranteed or your money back.

So late one night I was hauling out the trash when I could see that the usual dumpster was top loaded and useless so I made the left hand turn and headed out towards the darker side of the block. Getting close to the empty dumpster I could see shadows stirring about and I was on my guard. It could be anything: a ghettoling looking to jump me for kicks, scræling cats looking to explode out upon receipt of the garbage (not unusual), or even fat raccoons or the rare odd possum from the vacant lot.

Almost to the dumpster a cat-looking creature stepped out from behind and just stood there, upright and slightly swaying from side to side but definitely remaining upright and on two legs, waiting. It didn't run. Well, not at first anyway, the damned thing just stood there when all the other cats had scattered. Then it started walking towards me. Damn thing was maybe three feet tall and started walking fast, "arms" stationary at its side and it was just strolling down the sidewalk right at me. I looked around at the surrounding scene and it was just empty parking lot, abandoned buildings, and this fresk of nature now gaining speed and running right at me! I dropped the trash and started backing up, looking to see if the still-upright beast was headed anywhere in particular and the only direction I could see was directly for me!

So yeah even in flip-flops I turned around and hauled ass back towards the apartment and while trying to be careful while running in flip-flops (not safe, I don't recommend it!) I looked over my shoulder and between partial moonlight and finally the one working security light I could now tell that I was being pursued by a gorram raccoon, STILL fully upright and matching my speed, running in a beeline directly for me on the sidewalk, "arms" still at its side and barely moving. I made it to my staircase and made the sharp right turn and ran up the steps only looking back when I was safely at my door and about to slam it shut behind me. That freaking raccoon just blew on by on the sidewalk, STILL running upright and in a perfectly straight line, it kept right on hauling ass away from me and off to where I know not.

I have seen many repeat visitor raccoons at dumpsters over the decades but I had never seen that one before or since. I can only assume that it was rabid or had some other kind of brain parasite which would make it behave in such an odd manner, but I sure as hell didn't want to find out from close contact.

Maybe it was their king. Maybe it was a harbinger. A year later I was on the back porch at the same apartment complex and saw a man-like figure leaping from rooftop to rooftop between buildings in a rather exaggerated manner. The spacing between the buildings is more than any human can jump. I don't do drugs and was stone-cold sober. I will be the first to admit that I probably needed new glasses, but I am rational enough to know that 1) there had to be a logical explanation, and 2) I had no idea what on earth could explain what I was seeing. I had attempted to get my wife to come outside and see what I was seeing but by the time she made it the thing was long gone. I told her about my "mothman" sighting and she had a hard time taking me serious but I swore that everything I had just described had actually happened. It kept me up most of the night thinking about it and periodically looking and checking for a reappearance.

Later the next day I was out & about riding my bike in what used to be more vacant lots nearby, slowly being reclaimed by nature, when out of nowhere this giant woodland stork came semi-silently shooting up from out of the deep drainage ditch next to me and the road and landed uncomfortably close by. It was in that moment when I saw that nearly 6 feet tall monstrosity 'walking' around that I knew it had been the same exact creature I had seen the previous night, the exaggerated manner of its ambulation being identical.

To this day I have no idea what the hell a woodland stork was doing hopping from rooftop to rooftop at night, but it does make me seriously wonder how old tales of storks delivering babies came about.
 
2020-10-30 3:16:33 PM  
Not mine, but a favorite creepypasta:

I don't know why I looked up, but when I did I saw him there. He stood against my window. His forehead rested against the glass, and his eyes were still and light and he smiled a lipstick-red, cartoonish grin. And he just stood there in the window. My wife was upstairs sleeping, my son was in his crib and I couldn't move I froze and watched him looking past me through the glass.

Oh, please no. His smile never moved but he put a hand up and slid it down the glass, watching me. With matted hair and yellow skin and face through the window.

I couldn't do anything. I just stayed there, frozen, feet still in the bushes I was pruning, looking into my home. He stood against my window.
 
2020-10-30 3:36:09 PM  
I don't know if this qualifies, it's not as good as some of these stories but it did happen to me, or at least, in my mind, and it was probably the most scared I've ever been.

It was about 5 years ago, probably about this time of year, and my girlfriend at the time (now wife) had met after work at a sushi/Thai place nearby where we lived for dinner.  We drove separately because we were both getting off work.  Anyway, we ate, and headed home, which was only a couple miles away.  She was driving ahead of me.

If you know South Minneapolis, if you're driving east from Chicago on 46th, there's a Catholic cemetery on one side and the children's home on the other.  As I was driving up the slight rise, I suddenly had a huge chill run up my spine.  I looked in the rearview mirror but couldn't see anything in the dark. But then, not in the mirror, but in my mind, I could see a... thing.  Kind of humanoid but with very long arms, and loping on all fours.  And black, darker than the blackness around it, but with eyes that glittered.  Its head was sort of an inverted triangle; maybe it had horns. I don't know, it was all imprecise and only really perceivable as a blackness that existed in the surrounding dark.  It ran sort of crab like, like a long-legged hound dog.  And the long forelimbs didn't seem to end in hands or claws, they came to a point, sort of like a hermit crab's.  And it was MAD! So much anger and malevolence, and all directed at me!  I could feel it getting closer, so I blew through the stop sign at the bottom of the hill.  In my mind, I could see the thing stop, in frustration, like a dog who chased the car to the end of the property line but then gave up because he couldn't catch it.

I drove as fast as I could, cursing the stoplights and checking the mirror constantly, even though I knew I wouldn't actually see it there if it somehow followed me.  When we got home, I was shaking from head to toe.  In fact I was shaking so badly that I couldn't even pour myself a stiff drink, and when my girlfriend handed it to me I spilled about half of it as I tried to drink it.

A couple years later, I saw the fake trail cam pic of the zombie looking thing and it brought the memory flooding back. It looked a lot like that.  But blacker.  And angrier.
 
2020-10-30 3:41:13 PM  
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2020-10-30 3:44:14 PM  
A man and a young boy are walking deep into the woods, late at night.

The young boy grasps the man's hand ever tighter as he whispers, "I'm scared!"

The man looks down at the young man and says,

"You're scared? I gotta walk outta these woods alone!"
 
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