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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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1333 clicks; posted to Main » and Discussion » on 31 Oct 2020 at 12:03 PM (17 weeks ago)   |   Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook



Voting Results (Funniest)
View Voting Results: Smartest and Funniest

 
2020-10-30 3:12:40 PM  
50 votes:
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 12:41:51 PM  
47 votes:
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 1:29:20 PM  
46 votes:
...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 1:09:26 PM  
46 votes:
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 1:13:42 PM  
32 votes:
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 3:44:14 PM  
29 votes:
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!"
 
2020-10-30 2:11:43 PM  
23 votes:
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 12:46:11 PM  
20 votes:
I find a girlfriend and no longer have time for fark, yet I somehow win this contest.
 
2020-10-31 12:56:12 PM  
19 votes:
I would have been about eight or nine when this happened. It wasn't Halloween quite yet, but it was at least a day or so before. It was Saturday night and my parents were invited to a party. Each thinking that the other had taken care of it, they only realized about thirty minutes before they were out the door that neither of them had hired a babysitter.  They were about to cancel their plans but I remember insisting that they go out, telling them that I would be fine by myself and they should go have fun with their friends. Really, I just wanted them out so I could finally watch R-rated movies on HBO. My mother was hesitant but my father talked her into it. So she made a tuna fish sandwich and said she will trust me but under no circumstances was I supposed to leave the house or let anybody else in ("and there better not be any R movies on HBO!"), and I told her that was no problem whatsoever.

They left, and after about a half hour until I felt confident that they weren't coming right back, I put on HBO. Being near the end of October, it was naturally horror movie night. First was Alien, then came The Shining. I was only about a half hour into that second movie when the phone rang. Thinking it was my Mom checking in on me, I answered the phone. I heard some strange unknown voice. First there was laughter, then he finally said, "I know you're all alone, little boy." I slammed the phone down, heart racing. It took me about ten minutes to realize that it had to be my Dad farking with me. My whole life, even close to the day he died of cancer in 2016, he was always farking with me. So I tried to relax and blow it off as a joke. But I was creeped out. At least enough that I couldn't continue watching The Shining so I put on something else in the VHS player. Probably Superman. (Yeah, I'm really showing my age here.)

Thirty minutes later, the phone rang again. I answered it again, this time prepared for Dad's "joke". It was the same voice, this time cackling, "whatsamatter, little boy? Too scared to finished The Shining?" I slammed the phone down again, this time even more scared. I was still convincing myself it was my Dad, but even then, that meant my parents came back to secretly spy on me and the busted me watching R-rated movies.

Then there was a pounding on the door. Not just a regular knock, but heavy relentless pounding that went for about a minute before it stopped.  At this point I knew, this was not one of Dad's jokes. He would not take it this far. So I started going from room to room and turning off all the lights and closing all the blinds. I didn't know about dialing 911 back then, and despite all my mother's precautions, she forgot to give me a number to reach her in case there was a problem. It was at this point that there was a gentle rapping at one of the windows. Somebody was tapping Shave and a Haircut. I hid under the coffee table started crying. Whoever it was, he was going from window to window. One living room window: tap tap tap tap tap shave and a haircut tap tap two bits. Then he did it at the other living room window. Then I could hear him tapping on the kitchen windows next. Shave and a haircut, two bits.

After a few minutes of this, the window rapping stopped. It was quiet for about twenty minutes but I didn't budge from my hiding spot. I was going to stay there until Mom and Dad got home. And that's when it got even worse. There was a loud crash upstairs, which was followed by heavy footsteps. I could hear from which part of the house the noises were coming from. It started from my room, then down the hall, then back again. Running from room to room, laughing "I know you're here somewhere". Yeah, I can come out and admit that I was literally pissing myself at this moment. But despite that, I was able to summon at least a little bit of courage. As long as this creep was upstairs, I could make a break for it and run to the neighbor's house. So I quietly crawled out from underneath the coffee table. There was still noise coming from upstairs, so I felt safe enough to tip toe to the front door, unlock it, and leave. Once out, I started running. I didn't get far.

I heard voice shout, "where do you think you're going?" Then I heard a thud on the ground. This creep had actually leapt from the second floor of my house, landed on the ground below, and started chasing after me without losing a beat. My legs started quivering and became so overcome with fear that I collapsed. I huddled up in a ball, too scared to scream out loud. All I could do was cry. He started taunting, "awwww, you're not gonna cry on me, are you?" I flinched as I felt his hand on my shoulder. "There's no reason to cry," he said as he was laughing, "there's no reason to cry." He flipped me over on my back and I looked straight up at him.

So there I was, a helpless child wearing pee-soaked pajamas and tears pouring down my cheeks, looking up, face to face with Bill Murray. He smiled and said, "no one will ever believe you". He kissed me on the cheek and ran off into the night. I haven't been able to watch Stripes without breaking into a cold sweat since.
 
2020-10-30 2:30:18 PM  
19 votes:
meg12279: ... and no one could have gotten it down without me knowing.

well he is referred to as the "GRAB FATHER".
 
2020-10-30 1:21:57 PM  
17 votes:
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 4:42:39 PM  
14 votes:
2021 makes us nostalgic for the good old days of 2020.
 
2020-10-30 1:50:04 PM  
14 votes:
It'd be pretty scary if I forgot to bookmark this thread.
 
2020-10-30 12:52:36 PM  
14 votes:
COVID 20, transmitted by eye contact.
 
2020-10-30 1:33:51 PM  
11 votes:
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 12:59:00 PM  
11 votes:
A year of TF, be very afraid.
 
2020-10-31 11:34:11 AM  
10 votes:
This was a creepy trip for my aunt, but luckily we can all laugh about it now.

My sweet aunt had recently been widowed and we were trying to think of a way to distract her and maybe cheer her up.    Turns out that week we were all going to be near enough to Prague to make a day trip there.  Since my aunt loves sculpture we knew that art tour there could be the perfect.  On we go.

Tour guide assured us he had a unique list our aunt would love.   So we naively signed up.
And ended up taking our recently widowed aunt to see:
s3.crackedcdn.comView Full Size

-
parenthoodandpassports.comView Full Size

- hanged horse
parenthoodandpassports.comView Full Size

- many faceless babies
s3.crackedcdn.comView Full Size

and the lost man
parenthoodandpassports.comView Full Size

Well - the tour guide was right - they were well made and unique...
Just a shade too macabre for that week.
But like I said earlier - its lucky we can all laugh about it now.  Happy Halloween!
 
2020-10-31 12:47:34 PM  
9 votes:
....and when I got home, there was a bloody hook hanging from the car door!!!
 
2020-10-30 2:45:49 PM  
8 votes:
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 1:51:22 PM  
8 votes:
All haunted houses have a story. But not all haunted houses sing it as a rock opera.

GHOSTS OF BROADWAY
 
2020-10-30 1:13:24 PM  
8 votes:
I hear dad jokes are the new hot trend for 2021.
 
2020-10-31 7:34:00 PM  
7 votes:
I heard Alfred Hitchcock tell this one. Long but worth it.


A salesman was traveling through the desert in his car when the rear axle broke. Stranded in the middle of nowhere, nearly 150 miles from the nearest town, he got out of his car and scanned the horizon. There in the distance was a house on an oasis. He trudged over.
Arriving at the house, the salesman knocked on the door. A dapper gentleman answered, and the salesman explained his predicament. The dapper gentleman informed the salesman that the nearest town was 150 miles behind him, and he'd best stay a night or two at the oasis while the butler towed the car in for repairs. Finding it a wonderful idea, and frankly having no other choice, the salesman accepted the gracious offer.
The dapper gentleman took the man upstairs and showed him to the guest room. He invited him to wash up and come downstairs for a cocktail.
The salesman came downstairs as invited, and was greeted by the dapper gentleman and two attractive women. The dapper gentleman handed the salesman a cocktail, and explained that the two women were his wife and daughter.
"Wow," the salesman said. "You're both very attractive. So attractive, in fact, that I can't even tell which one's the mother. I'd even guess you were sisters."
After a few cocktails and dinner, the man retired to his room for the evening. At about midnight, as he was dozing off in the dark, he heard the bedroom door open. He reached for the table lamp and began to turn it on when he heard a woman's voice at the door. "No, don't turn the light on. Keep it off."
"Which one are you?" the salesman asked. "The wife or the daughter?"
"I'd rather not say."
A few seconds later, the salesman heard the woman approaching the bed, yet was still unable to identify her face. The woman explained that she's been living out here in the middle of the desert, a lonely existence, and her heart throbbed to see such a handsome stranger drop in for a visit. The woman took a seat at the edge of the bed, caressing the man's hand. Before long, she was under the covers, and the inevitable ensued.
At about four a.m., as dawn began to break, the woman stood up in the dark and said she had to go before it got light. She disappeared through the bedroom door.
The next morning, downstairs, the salesman enjoyed coffee and breakfast with the dapper gentleman, the wife, and the daughter. Still curious as to who was in his room the night before, the man pried, questioning, making eye contact with the two women. Yet since their voices were so similar, he was unable to determine who the visitor was.
That evening, at about midnight, the man was once again lying in his dark room. The visitor came to the door once more.
"It's me again."
"Which one are you?" the salesman asked.
"I'd rather not say."
Accepting the answer, the man obliged as the woman crawled in to join him. Again, they enjoyed a warm evening together. And again, at four a.m., the shadowy woman got out of bed and disappeared out the bedroom door.
The next morning, downstairs at breakfast, the curious salesman made even more eye contact with the women, looking for a sign, determined to identify which of them had been visiting him the two previous nights. Yet still, because they looked so similar, he was unable to pin it down.
After breakfast, the butler arrived with the car. The salesman grabbed his things, and walked outside with the dapper gentleman, thanking him for his hospitality and grace.
As the salesman got into his car, he asked the dapper gentleman the obvious question.
"Why is it that you and your family live all the way out here in the middle of nowhere, one hundred and fifty miles from the nearest town?"
The dapper gentleman explained.
"It's because of my daughter."
"Your daughter?" the salesman asked. "Why would she choose to live in isolation? She seemed fine to me."
The dapper gentleman noticed the salesman's misunderstanding.
"Oh, no, not Margaret," the dapper gentleman said. "I'm talking about my younger daughter, Elizabeth. We keep her out in the barn."
"The barn?"
"Yes, the barn," the dapper gentleman said. "She's a leper."
 
2020-10-31 1:11:52 PM  
7 votes:

CAT-LIKE TYPING DETECTED: HAPPY HALLOWEEN, Everyone..!!

..seems a little anti-climactic after all the horror the year has already brought..

Alot of great stories/writing above, and a little kerfluffleing too..guess last year's proposal to have a separate thread for 'real,' personal stories and one for creative works never gained any traction..

Sad to see that contribution this year has been so anemic..under 100 posts and a mere 11 hours left in what should be the best holiday of the year..  Only to be understood, with everything we've all been dealing with and going through..    =P    Also sorry to note that the classics don't seem to have made any sort of a showing in this thread. I guess I'll step up to the plate and start with those..one per post, methinks..

(..if any were already posted and I missed it, my apologies..)

Here's the first, an absolute classic:

Ted the Caver


I'll be happy to help. I'm sure we all remember this classic from echo5juliet back in 2006 which became the stuff of legends in Fark Scary story threads for years to come.
______________________________________​_______________________________

I was driving a shortcut from Twentynine Palms, CA to Albuquerque, NM. Twentynine Palms is located in the desolate high desert east of LA. The shortcut was all two lane road through total nothingness, except for passing through Amboy, CA. Amboy is a nearly abandoned town nearly as far below sea level as Death Valley, with a dormant volcano and lava field on one side and a salt flat on the other. It was also, at the time, a hotspot for satanic group activity.

So I was driving by myself in the afternoon. I stopped in Amboy and snapped a picture of the city sign, just to prove I was there to friends who dared me to take that route to I-40. I got back in my car and proceeded to drive up into the mountain range between Amboy and I-40.

Once I reach the top I am driving north through a canyon with high grass on both sides of the road. Up ahead I see some stuff in the middle of the road. As I approach I slow down to see a red Pontiac Fiero stopped sideways across both lanes, a suitcase open with clothes scattered everywhere and two bodies laying face down in the road, a man and a woman.

I stop a hundred feet or so away and the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. Being a Marine, I reach under the seat and pull out a 9mm pistol and chamber a round. Something seemed very wrong, it looked too perfect as if it were staged. An ambush? Was I being paranoid? Something was just wrong. Getting out of the car seemed unthinkable, it was the horror movie move.

As I scanned the road I saw a line I could drive. Pass the guy in the road on his left, swerve to the right side of the woman, behind the Fiero and I'd be on the other side. I dropped it into first gear, punched it and drove the line I planned.

I passed the back of the Fierro without hitting it or either of the bodies in the road. I continued forward a couple hundred feet and slowed down so I could breathe and let my heart slow down. As I looked up into the rearview mirror I saw that the two bodies had gotten up to their knees and twenty or so people emerged from the tall grass on either side of the road by the car and bodies. One of them, presumably the leader of the group, walked out a few feet ahead of the others and glared at me. It was Bill Murray. He said, "no one will ever believe you".

At that moment my right foot smashed the gas pedal to the floor and did not let up until I had to slowdown for the I-40 east onramp.

I will never know what would have happened to me had I gotten out of the car to check on the bodies or stopped my car closer to them. Somehow I do not think it would have been good. Sometimes real life can be scarier than a movie.
 
2020-10-31 12:07:35 PM  
6 votes:
I have no stories but the tuxedos wish to say Happy Halloween.
Fark user imageView Full Size

/scary bookmark
 
2020-10-30 3:15:33 PM  
6 votes:
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.
 
2020-10-31 1:23:16 PM  
5 votes:

Definitely Not Someone's Alt: 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.


I was hoping to get through the day without having to relive the experience, but you had to ruin it.

When I was 7, Dad went insane.

We were getting ready for Thanksgiving, and the pressure was getting to him. Mom had all of the other dishes cooked, and all dad had to do was the ham. Nothing difficult, but he was in no mental state for it. We had a lot of guests coming and dad felt everything had to be perfect. Not just great - perfect.

So, trying to please him and be a good helper, I took the ham out of the oven when the timer went off. I dropped it. I looked up to the face of my dad, twisted in horror. He just stood there, holding a brush and a bowl of honey glaze.

As he held me down afterwards, he just kept muttering "this has to be done before the third person gets here" while slathering glaze over my eyes. Then he plucked them out and I can still hear the soft, wet 'pop' they made as dad ate them.

To this day, every Thanksgiving, dad talks about how delicious my glazed eyes were.
 
2020-10-31 5:28:51 PM  
4 votes:

west.la.lawyer: COVID 20, transmitted by eye contact.


So 99.9% of Farkers don't have to worry about contracting COVID-20
 
2020-10-31 1:40:43 PM  
4 votes:

gunga galunga: CAT-LIKE TYPING DETECTED: HAPPY HALLOWEEN, Everyone..!!

..seems a little anti-climactic after all the horror the year has already brought..

Alot of great stories/writing above, and a little kerfluffleing too..guess last year's proposal to have a separate thread for 'real,' personal stories and one for creative works never gained any traction..

Sad to see that contribution this year has been so anemic..under 100 posts and a mere 11 hours left in what should be the best holiday of the year..  Only to be understood, with everything we've all been dealing with and going through..    =P    Also sorry to note that the classics don't seem to have made any sort of a showing in this thread. I guess I'll step up to the plate and start with those..one per post, methinks..

(..if any were already posted and I missed it, my apologies..)

Here's the first, an absolute classic:

Ted the Caver

I'll be happy to help. I'm sure we all remember this classic from echo5juliet back in 2006 which became the stuff of legends in Fark Scary story threads for years to come.
______________________________________​_______________________________

I was driving a shortcut from Twentynine Palms, CA to Albuquerque, NM. Twentynine Palms is located in the desolate high desert east of LA. The shortcut was all two lane road through total nothingness, except for passing through Amboy, CA. Amboy is a nearly abandoned town nearly as far below sea level as Death Valley, with a dormant volcano and lava field on one side and a salt flat on the other. It was also, at the time, a hotspot for satanic group activity.

So I was driving by myself in the afternoon. I stopped in Amboy and snapped a picture of the city sign, just to prove I was there to friends who dared me to take that route to I-40. I got back in my car and proceeded to drive up into the mountain range between Amboy and I-40.

Once I reach the top I am driving north through a canyon with high grass on both sides of the road. Up ahead I see some stuff in the middle of the road. As I approach I slow down to see a red Pontiac Fiero stopped sideways across both lanes, a suitcase open with clothes scattered everywhere and two bodies laying face down in the road, a man and a woman.

I stop a hundred feet or so away and the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. Being a Marine, I reach under the seat and pull out a 9mm pistol and chamber a round. Something seemed very wrong, it looked too perfect as if it were staged. An ambush? Was I being paranoid? Something was just wrong. Getting out of the car seemed unthinkable, it was the horror movie move.

As I scanned the road I saw a line I could drive. Pass the guy in the road on his left, swerve to the right side of the woman, behind the Fiero and I'd be on the other side. I dropped it into first gear, punched it and drove the line I planned.

I passed the back of the Fierro without hitting it or either of the bodies in the road. I continued forward a couple hundred feet and slowed down so I could breathe and let my heart slow down. As I looked up into the rearview mirror I saw that the two bodies had gotten up to their knees and twenty or so people emerged from the tall grass on either side of the road by the car and bodies. One of them, presumably the leader of the group, walked out a few feet ahead of the others and glared at me. It was Bill Murray. He said, "no one will ever believe you".

At that moment my right foot smashed the gas pedal to the floor and did not let up until I had to slowdown for the I-40 east onramp.

I will never know what would have happened to me had I gotten out of the car to check on the bodies or stopped my car closer to them. Somehow I do not think it would have been good. Sometimes real life can be scarier than a movie.


Did somebody mumble my name?
 
2020-10-30 12:53:13 PM  
4 votes:
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.
 
2020-10-31 11:33:22 PM  
3 votes:
From the time that I was a small child, I've always had some weird mental quirks that have forced me to see and interact with things that most people don't notice. While many small children have the ability to see spirits, I was able to physically interact with them. If I was overtired and distracted, I would have other people's thoughts and conversations pop into my head. Since my parents were obviously less than pleased with these claims, I never told them about the real source of my constant night terrors which was the fact that sometimes, when I was staring at my ceiling, the surface would bubble and crack and begin to grow transparent to where I could see the horrible things that dwelt beyond. Since these beings with fangs and claws and glowing eyes were less frightening than my mother, I kept my mouth shut and gradually learned to put up walls in my mind.

Even now, as an adult, things slip through the barriers that I constructed in an attempt to pass for a normal, sane person. Sometimes I will be driving through a small town and stop at a crosswalk to wait for the pedestrian who disappears once he reaches the middle of the street. Other times, I'll be driving down a country road when my vision will shift to sepia tones and all traces of modernity will disappear allowing a glimpse of the pre-industrial past. Most recently, I'll be doing something mundane like dishes or laundry only to find myself wandering down a road made of bones through a land of mist and shadows with my pair of calico cats on either side of me as we follow the guiding light of the glowing red orb in the distance.

My family always ridiculed me for having an overactive imagination. My therapist shrugs and says that I'm too logical and functional to be crazy. Personally, I feel like I'm always fighting against completely unraveling but I've learned to ignore most of the tricks of my screwed-up mind. Up until tonight, I didn't think that I could see or hallucinate anything that would really shock or upset me.

While I usually avoid leaving the house on night when the barriers are pretty thin, I was out of cat food and didn't feel like getting chewed out by the passive-aggressive calicoes on our next stroll down the Road of Bones. It was only around 7:30pm so I figured it should've been pretty safe to run to WalMart. Since I didn't know if my town had trick-or-treat going on, I decided to take the backs roads to come in from the north side of town where WalMart was. As I driving along on a curvy country road lined with signs regarding the topic that we shall not mention in this thread, I noticed a particularly large species of this sign up ahead, right on the edge of the left side of the road. As I reached this sign, it sprouted a mouthful of fangs and lunged at my truck before parking itself on the other side of the pavement.

My first reaction was obviously to scream. I followed that up with hysterical laughter because WTAF? Either I am hallucinating the kind of crap that you would see in a kids' Halloween movie or there is a demonically possessed p*******l sign terrorizing the backroads of Warren County, Ohio. F**k 2020, I need a drink.
 
2020-10-31 7:12:48 PM  
3 votes:

Resident Muslim: Leftbehindandgladofit:

Thank you.

Moving onto family.
Grandma on my mother's side had two of my cousins living with her to keep her company. Their mother didn't mind as she were just two houses down from her mother's place and the eldest was still with her.
These cousins' room had a lot of weird stuff happening, TV turning on, radio coming on on full volume.
Once one of those cousins and myself were walking into that room and something scurried along the wall and behind the bed.
It was about the size of a cat. But all it was was blackness, blackness with an undefined edge. Think horror movie style blackness when a shadow would break away from a dark area and move on its own.
Our reaction wasn't "what was that?!" it was, both of us turning to the other and exclaiming "did you see that?!"
I went around the bed to peer into that small wall space between the bed and the wall, to see what was that that just moved so quickly.
There was nothing there. The side table was against the wall and the bed against the side table. The bed itself had a frame that went all the way down to the carpet, so nothing could have climbed under it.
So weird.

Moving onto gramma from my father's side. While first gramma was religious, this gramma was more spiritual. Tough.
Think Granny Weatherwax.

Two stories from lore and two told to me by those close.
1) Paternal grandma's brother was walking back home on the beach when he saw his sister sitting there, at an odd time.
He reached out to gently place his hand on her head and ask her what she was doing at such an odd time when his fingers just sank into her head.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
When he reopened them, the apparition was gone.
2) my grandma had a lady that did work for them that had her toddler kid with her. Grandma is sitting around when she see the toddler moving about and she calls to him and sits him on one knee. As she was playing with the kid, she looks up and sees the mother walking towards her...with her child by her side. ...


You are entirely welcome.
Upon my paternal grandmother's death this is how her two sons and daughter looked after the funeral.


Fark user imageView Full Size
 
2020-10-31 12:09:43 PM  
3 votes:

Honest Geologist: FNG: Wow, a few years ago this thread had 608 comments, even the fake "timmy doesn't live here anymore" hasn't shown up.

Maybe it'll pick up today.


media0.giphy.comView Full Size
 
2020-10-31 9:07:04 AM  
3 votes:

FNG: Wenchmaster: Not sure if this will fit:

No one read that, or is going to buy your book.  This is the wrong thread for whoring it.

Keep things to personal stories.


Since you object to reading long texts, I'll keep this short in an itemized list:

1- I've seen several obvious fiction stories posted above mine. You do not appear to have any objection to those.
2- Nowhere does the thread originator say personal stories only. It just specifies "your spooky stories". This is MY spooky story for this year.
3- Anyone who doesn't wish to read it is free to skip it. I do note that at least two people appear to have read it (based on the "SMART" button clicks), so you're obviously and demonstrably wrong. Quelle surprise.
4- I cranked this out in a couple of hours after work, right before posting it. I don't have a book. Nice of you to think I do.
5- If you're not the thread originator, you have no business setting rules for this thread. If Turing Machine objects, I'll ask the mods to remove my story. Your opinion on this subject is worth exactly jack.
6- Many Farkers (including me) have posted fiction stories in several past "Spooky Story" threads. There's usually at least one person who isn't the thread originator whinging about other people's content in these threads. Congratulations! You're the one for this thread.
 
2020-10-30 2:01:58 PM  
3 votes:
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 1:39:13 PM  
3 votes:
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 1:30:27 PM  
3 votes:
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 1:22:03 PM  
3 votes:
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.
 
2020-11-01 4:03:47 AM  
2 votes:
The following is probably fiction...

I have no idea why I felt so compelled to write that story for that darn website. Peer pressure? Halloween spirit? Wanting to impress?
I don't know.
I just know that I wrote the following story.

I never meant to kill him. I never meant to hide it. He was my best friend growing up. I never intended to hide the body in the unused well. My mind was hijacked. Fear of my abusive father. Fear of the look in his parents eyes when they found out. Fear of facing what I had done.
And why did he jump from behind the bush such a distance from his house?? He knew I speed on that mile stretch between our homes. I had just hung up the phone and told him I'll pick him up.
Screw Halloween and Halloween pranks. That bedsheet clung to him as he folded like a puppet over the front of my car, only to slip off almost in slow motion as he was flung backwards, arms outstretched when I belatedly slammed the brakes, the look on his face already dulled and emotionless. I could see his face, dulled yellow by the headlights of the old car.
I was so scared. I screamed his name. I ran up to his motionless body. I don't know why the well was the first thing I saw when I lifted my head to yell to someone, anyone, for help.
I...I...should have at least checked to make sure that he was actually dead.
I never meant to kill him. He was my best friend.
I should have told his parents.
I couldn't face them.
I couldn't face my guilt.

I...couldn't...can't...understand why after all of these years he chose today to stand outside my glass balcony door, flesh oozing off of his face, his clothes showing the passage of time in that closed off well.
Why is he smiling at me like when we were teenagers, beckoning me to join outside. Making abrupt gestures as if I need to sneak out lest my parents hear. My parents are long gone.
That smile.
I never meant to kill him.
He was my best friend.

I never meant to kill him...I...I never killed him. This is just a story I wrote for that stupid website.

So just WHY is he still standing outside the the balcony door there with his rotten smile??
 
FNG [TotalFark]
2020-11-01 1:36:52 AM  
2 votes:

TheManofPA: Short story: I spent a month of this year trapped in a single room with cold to lukewarm food.


Prison, or quarantine?
 
2020-10-31 11:39:49 PM  
2 votes:
Late to the party, but wrote this tonight for shiats and giggles.

It's been two weeks since I lost my beloved husband Daniel. The dreams are so vivid I can still see his green eyes, curly reddish blond hair, and long thin body when I wake up. I talk to him like he is still there, that's because I haven't called the coroner yet.
 
2020-10-31 10:48:02 PM  
2 votes:

Leftbehindandgladofit: Resident Muslim: Leftbehindandgladofit:

Thank you.

Moving onto family.
Grandma on my mother's side had two of my cousins living with her to keep her company. Their mother didn't mind as she were just two houses down from her mother's place and the eldest was still with her.
These cousins' room had a lot of weird stuff happening, TV turning on, radio coming on on full volume.
Once one of those cousins and myself were walking into that room and something scurried along the wall and behind the bed.
It was about the size of a cat. But all it was was blackness, blackness with an undefined edge. Think horror movie style blackness when a shadow would break away from a dark area and move on its own.
Our reaction wasn't "what was that?!" it was, both of us turning to the other and exclaiming "did you see that?!"
I went around the bed to peer into that small wall space between the bed and the wall, to see what was that that just moved so quickly.
There was nothing there. The side table was against the wall and the bed against the side table. The bed itself had a frame that went all the way down to the carpet, so nothing could have climbed under it.
So weird.

Moving onto gramma from my father's side. While first gramma was religious, this gramma was more spiritual. Tough.
Think Granny Weatherwax.

Two stories from lore and two told to me by those close.
1) Paternal grandma's brother was walking back home on the beach when he saw his sister sitting there, at an odd time.
He reached out to gently place his hand on her head and ask her what she was doing at such an odd time when his fingers just sank into her head.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
When he reopened them, the apparition was gone.
2) my grandma had a lady that did work for them that had her toddler kid with her. Grandma is sitting around when she see the toddler moving about and she calls to him and sits him on one knee. As she was playing with the kid, she looks up and sees the mother walking towards her...with her child by her side. ...

You are entirely welcome.
Upon my paternal grandmother's death this is how her two sons and daughter looked after the funeral.


[Fark user image image 850x1100]


:)

Is that a cursed Tiki statue in the background?!
:D
 
2020-10-31 5:50:50 PM  
2 votes:
"Honey, we have to talk," she said, but all he could see was the two blue lines on the test.
 
2020-10-31 3:27:31 PM  
2 votes:
I love this annual thread and wish I had an actual scary story to contribute but here's the best I can come up with: the time I scared the hell out of myself and my best friend in middle school.

During sleepovers we often snuck out. We never did anything too bad and usually ended up walking to a gas station about a mile away to buy a bunch of candy, then stayed up all night playing Super Mario Bros. So, there was this new crappy tract home subdivision going up, the roads were completed and the houses were just being built. We cut through there rather than walk up the busy main road. It was very dark and a bit spooky because nobody was living there yet and as we passed by one of the houses, I asked her "what would you do if we saw a face in one of those windows?" She didn't reply and we walked in tense silence for a minute before she looked at me and asked "why did you have to say that?" We both took off running the rest of the way, and ran back home from the gas station. It wasn't really a scary situation but I just had to open my stupid mouth and psych both of us out.
 
2020-10-31 1:02:20 PM  
2 votes:

gunga galunga: I would have been about eight or nine when this happened. It wasn't Halloween quite yet, but it was at least a day or so before. It was Saturday night and my parents were invited to a party. Each thinking that the other had taken care of it, they only realized about thirty minutes before they were out the door that neither of them had hired a babysitter.  They were about to cancel their plans but I remember insisting that they go out, telling them that I would be fine by myself and they should go have fun with their friends. Really, I just wanted them out so I could finally watch R-rated movies on HBO. My mother was hesitant but my father talked her into it. So she made a tuna fish sandwich and said she will trust me but under no circumstances was I supposed to leave the house or let anybody else in ("and there better not be any R movies on HBO!"), and I told her that was no problem whatsoever.

They left, and after about a half hour until I felt confident that they weren't coming right back, I put on HBO. Being near the end of October, it was naturally horror movie night. First was Alien, then came The Shining. I was only about a half hour into that second movie when the phone rang. Thinking it was my Mom checking in on me, I answered the phone. I heard some strange unknown voice. First there was laughter, then he finally said, "I know you're all alone, little boy." I slammed the phone down, heart racing. It took me about ten minutes to realize that it had to be my Dad farking with me. My whole life, even close to the day he died of cancer in 2016, he was always farking with me. So I tried to relax and blow it off as a joke. But I was creeped out. At least enough that I couldn't continue watching The Shining so I put on something else in the VHS player. Probably Superman. (Yeah, I'm really showing my age here.)

Thirty minutes later, the phone rang again. I answered it again, this time prepared for Dad's "joke". It was the same voice, this time cackling, "whatsamatter, little boy? Too scared to finished The Shining?" I slammed the phone down again, this time even more scared. I was still convincing myself it was my Dad, but even then, that meant my parents came back to secretly spy on me and the busted me watching R-rated movies.

Then there was a pounding on the door. Not just a regular knock, but heavy relentless pounding that went for about a minute before it stopped.  At this point I knew, this was not one of Dad's jokes. He would not take it this far. So I started going from room to room and turning off all the lights and closing all the blinds. I didn't know about dialing 911 back then, and despite all my mother's precautions, she forgot to give me a number to reach her in case there was a problem. It was at this point that there was a gentle rapping at one of the windows. Somebody was tapping Shave and a Haircut. I hid under the coffee table started crying. Whoever it was, he was going from window to window. One living room window: tap tap tap tap tap shave and a haircut tap tap two bits. Then he did it at the other living room window. Then I could hear him tapping on the kitchen windows next. Shave and a haircut, two bits.

After a few minutes of this, the window rapping stopped. It was quiet for about twenty minutes but I didn't budge from my hiding spot. I was going to stay there until Mom and Dad got home. And that's when it got even worse. There was a loud crash upstairs, which was followed by heavy footsteps. I could hear from which part of the house the noises were coming from. It started from my room, then down the hall, then back again. Running from room to room, laughing "I know you're here somewhere". Yeah, I can come out and admit that I was literally pissing myself at this moment. But despite that, I was able to summon at least a little bit of courage. As long as this creep was upstairs, I could make a break for it and run to the neighbor's house. So I quietly crawled out from underneath the coffee table. There was still noise coming from upstairs, so I felt safe enough to tip toe to the front door, unlock it, and leave. Once out, I started running. I didn't get far.

I heard voice shout, "where do you think you're going?" Then I heard a thud on the ground. This creep had actually leapt from the second floor of my house, landed on the ground below, and started chasing after me without losing a beat. My legs started quivering and became so overcome with fear that I collapsed. I huddled up in a ball, too scared to scream out loud. All I could do was cry. He started taunting, "awwww, you're not gonna cry on me, are you?" I flinched as I felt his hand on my shoulder. "There's no reason to cry," he said as he was laughing, "there's no reason to cry." He flipped me over on my back and I looked straight up at him.

So there I was, a helpless child wearing pee-soaked pajamas and tears pouring down my cheeks, looking up, face to face with Bill Murray. He smiled and said, "no one will ever believe you". He kissed me on the cheek and ran off into the night. I haven't been able to watch Stripes without breaking into a cold sweat since.


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2020-10-30 8:28:59 PM  
2 votes:
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2020-10-30 3:41:13 PM  
2 votes:
They're animated .gifs, you might have to click on them if viewing on mobile because Fark that's why.

Artist is Brian Coldrick

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2020-10-30 2:24:52 PM  
2 votes:
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 1:53:50 PM  
2 votes:
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 1:12:35 PM  
2 votes:
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 1:04:59 PM  
2 votes:
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."
 
2020-11-01 12:32:26 AM  
1 vote:
Short story: I spent a month of this year trapped in a single room with cold to lukewarm food.
 
2020-10-31 9:58:15 PM  
1 vote:
I've got one to add. Happened less than an hour ago.

I remember a few years ago I posted in here about how creepy baby monitors have the potential to be. You know, you're downstairs with the baby and you hear the baby on the monitor upstairs or something like that.

We never had that. Bleed-in from the couple with a baby next door, sure, faint crying when we knew our own child was fast asleep. And strange crackles late at night sometimes, interference from who knows what.

Tonight, the creaky sound of a door opening.

We figured the oldest had gone for a pee. I went up and checked. Nope, fast asleep. Heart rate went up. Checked all the doors, nothing out of place. Went and had a look outside anyway. Nothing out there but the moon. Haven't heard it again. Hope I don't. A little unsettling on Halloween after reading this thread.
 
2020-10-31 7:16:56 PM  
1 vote:

Resident Muslim: Leftbehindandgladofit:

Thank you.

Moving onto family.
Grandma on my mother's side had two of my cousins living with her to keep her company. Their mother didn't mind as she were just two houses down from her mother's place and the eldest was still with her.
These cousins' room had a lot of weird stuff happening, TV turning on, radio coming on on full volume.
Once one of those cousins and myself were walking into that room and something scurried along the wall and behind the bed.
It was about the size of a cat. But all it was was blackness, blackness with an undefined edge. Think horror movie style blackness when a shadow would break away from a dark area and move on its own.
Our reaction wasn't "what was that?!" it was, both of us turning to the other and exclaiming "did you see that?!"
I went around the bed to peer into that small wall space between the bed and the wall, to see what was that that just moved so quickly.
There was nothing there. The side table was against the wall and the bed against the side table. The bed itself had a frame that went all the way down to the carpet, so nothing could have climbed under it.
So weird.

Moving onto gramma from my father's side. While first gramma was religious, this gramma was more spiritual. Tough.
Think Granny Weatherwax.

Two stories from lore and two told to me by those close.
1) Paternal grandma's brother was walking back home on the beach when he saw his sister sitting there, at an odd time.
He reached out to gently place his hand on her head and ask her what she was doing at such an odd time when his fingers just sank into her head.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
When he reopened them, the apparition was gone.
2) my grandma had a lady that did work for them that had her toddler kid with her. Grandma is sitting around when she see the toddler moving about and she calls to him and sits him on one knee. As she was playing with the kid, she looks up and sees the mother walking towards her...with her child by her side. ...


In the picture shown, there is none of the pain that she caused all three of them. She cared for her cats far more than she did for her children or her husband. She was a vain and horrible woman, and she deserves to be where she is. In the ground. I do pray for one thing- that she stay there, and not come back to us.
 
2020-10-31 7:16:26 PM  
1 vote:

FNG: Wow, a few years ago this thread had 608 comments, even the fake "timmy doesn't live here anymore" hasn't shown up.


"Danny Doesn't Live There Anymore" is all true, up to the part where it isn't. Danny Nero shot my brother. Rick showed me the house. The attic was full of toys and clothes. Rick wouldn't stick around so I could rummage through the toys. We went back to his house, where he did his homework. He told me if I wanted to go back, then I should. "Keep telling yourself "there's no such thing as ghosts."" But I never went back. So, yeah, it's fake because it's fiction. But that experience stuck with me. A few years ago, I had a dream that I discovered a cave high up on a cliff, and it was filled with old treasures, but I knew the Devil lived there, and I had better not investigate. It was much later that I connected it to Danny's house.
 
2020-10-31 2:23:38 PM  
1 vote:
Well, that's all the top-of-the-head classics I've got for now so I guess it's time to post my (..since 2014..) yearly Halloween contribution.

For what it's worth, I'll just hope to make clear that this is an actual, personal experience.  The events described happened, the people and places are real and what names are mentioned have not been changed to protect the innocent..    =P

===   ===   ===

When I was young (9 - 15, roundabouts), my parents would take the family..mom, dad, me, younger brother..camping/cottaging every year at the very end of the season, so as to get better locations at lower rates. Invariably, we'd go with a couple or couples that were friends of the family and it would be a nice group-event weekend or longer.

One particular couple..Dave and Karen..went along every year and my father and Dave were, and are, fast friends.

The year of this story, we were in a cottage on a small lake (about 2 miles in diameter) during a near-perfect autumn in, I think, the Southern Tier/Finger Lakes region of Western New York. It was only my family and Dave and Karen, this year.

One thing that is of importance to relate is that Dave and my father fancy themselves amateur architectural buffs and love looking at vintage/old/historical buildings/houses.

Bear with me here...

Often, camping/cottaging as late in the season as we did, the 'regulars' would already be gone for the season. Summer homes, fishing cottages and the like would be prepped for the winter and locked up for the season..awaiting the return of the owners the following spring.

To my father and his friend, "looking" meant breaking in to fully check the place out. Never did they do damage, or tamper or take anything..they just found the most interesting deserted home, picked the lock or the latch, let themselves in and looked at all the original woodwork or styling or whatever..then lock everything back up, as it was, when they left.

I don't recall how old I was, but this particular year it was apparently decided that my brother and I were old enough to tag along for the house they'd singled out, halfway around the lake.

I remember everything very vividly..from the outside appearance to the door we entered to the whole of the interior. The rear door was locked with a padlock through a bar latch. However, the securing screws for the bar latch were exposed, rather than covered by the bar..three phillips-head screws out and we were in.

We wandered about the ground floor..I recall the place being a bit musty and darkish, but very nice..if cluttered. There were some comic books lying about, which delighted me, so the owner must have had children.

It took a few minutes, but my father noticed something seemed not-quite-right..it took a bit, but it was realized from an almost inaudible background hum that the fridge was still running. Looking inside it revealed about a half-case of unopened Labatt's beer bottles..an indication that the place may *not* be closed for the season, obviously.

Oh, well..the adults think..we're already here, haven't seen any cars or activity the past couple days, and only have the upstairs to look at..may as well finish up..

So we head upstairs..the layout is simple: Stairway goes up one side of the house and tops off at one end of a hallway that traverses the length of the building. It is the only way up or down. Off this hallway, all to the left, are four evenly spaced doors.

We enter the first room. It's empty save for a MASSIVE brass bedframe. No boxspring or mattress, just the frame..and by massive, I mean just that. My father and Dave marveled over the solidity and craftsmanship of the thing. Wide, high head and footboards with corner-posts that only barely fell short of making it a full-blown four-poster bed..and all welded; no screws/nuts/bolts..the thing was either assembled in the room or the room was built around it. There was absolutely no way it was brought, complete, into that room..I doubt it would fit through patio doors iff'n the entire door assembly was taken out in advance to clear more space.

So, they ooh and ahhh over the brasswork a bit more and we move on to the next room..which is totally empty. Move to the third room..which is totally empty. It's becoming clear the family only really uses the ground floor while they stay here.

We're getting ready to move to the last room when there's this sudden, loud crash. First thought in all minds: the owners are back and we're waaaaaay busted.

My father moves to the head of the stairs..looks down..goes down..nothing. Nobody there, nothing obviously out of place (from what was remembered, walking in), nothing. Shrugs all around..head off to room four, with the general feeling of 'let's look at this final room, then get out before we really get caught.'
We enter the final room to find it completely empty..save for a huge, welded brass bedframe.

Father looks at Dave, he looks back, Dave runs out of the room and down the hall. A moment later we hear him cry out and we all run back down the hall to the first room..which is now empty.

I don't actually remember us getting out of the house, but I know it was fast and I know they didn't bother to screw the latch back on. To this day, my father and Dave will both acknowledge the event..but won't talk about it and my brother doesn't recall it at all. As far as best I know, that was the last 'house inspection' that they ever attempted.

Trick or Treat..? For me, I somehow think it ended up being both..
 
2020-10-31 2:04:52 PM  
1 vote:

CAT-LIKE TYPING DETECTED: Short but sweet..always a Fan-favorite..!

===   ===   ===

"Fishy" - by Quexy

Psychosis or ghost story, I don't know.

When I was little, probably about four or five years old, I had an imaginary "friend" (I think.) It was yellow and about four feet tall (taller than me at the time), bipedal, and had oversized eyes that always looked straight ahead otherwise, relatively human and naked. I called the thing "Fishy." The wierdest thing, though, was it scared the hell out of me. I didn't want anything to do with it, and I couldn't imagine, as a child, that it was coming from inside my head.

It "walked" (more like skated along) on the walls in the rooms of our house, and apparently could not leave those surfaces. I knew that if I played outside, it could only follow me to the limits of the garage. It always followed me, too, even though I often told it not to. I had difficulty concentrating on drawing things or reading because Fishy was always standing somewhere on the wall, looking over my shoulder. It did not ever sit down, it didn't have facial expressions, and it never made any noise.

The only times I ever interacted with Fishy were when I was sick in the middle of the night or when I woke up panicked from nightmares. Those times, if I looked at it intently, Fishy would methodically start drifting along the wall towards my parents' bedroom; around the corner, out the door, and down the hall. As soon as he was out of sight, I'd start calling for Mom (as in: "Mooooom, I'm gonna barrrrrf...") and she'd show up quickly (god bless ya, mom) to help me through it. Fishy would come back, though, as soon as I'd recovered. Then it would stare for the rest of the night, two days, or longer, in the direction of my parents' room.

It finally vanished when my sister was born in 1992. I was almost 8 years old by then, and I'd been ignoring Fishy for about a year, but not so much that I didn't notice it had learned to fly off the wall and visit the floor from time to time.

Ther ...


When I would stop drinking for a day or so, I was far enough along for Delirium Tremens to kick in. The ghost of my cat, Weasel, would appear to me, and walk the walls and the dresser. Between that and the auditory hallucinations, it convinced me to stop drinking for a bit. The momentary eye spiders are bad enough, but when your dead cat comes back and starts climbing the walls, and the BBC World Service all of a sudden starts playing 1960's Soul music, you start re-evaluating your life choices.
 
2020-10-31 2:04:21 PM  
1 vote:
A drive-by favorite..no title, no attribution but one to remember..

===   ===   ===

"Daddy, I had a bad dream."
You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness - it is 3:32 AM.
"Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?"
"No, Daddy."
The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter's pale form in the darkness of your room.
"Why not, sweetie?"
"Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy's skin sat up."
For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you cannot take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
 
2020-10-31 1:35:30 PM  
1 vote:
-The Monster Under The Bed

I look under the bed ever night. It's almost always the same thing. A dust bunny on the verge of evolving into a dust jackrabbit. A quarter and some nickels that rolled away from my pocket in ages past. A half broken mechanical pencil, no doubt the remains of a fervent writing spree abandoned like some many other things I once thought I could leverage to fill the vacant hours. A tab for an energy drink mindlessly picked off and discarded, flung on a whim for a personal and ersatz demonstration of aerodynamics.

And a monster.

Oh, it doesn't look like there's a monster under there. Just because you can't see it or reach it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I've made my peace with it. It's actually quite powerful, really. It lives off fear, drinks it, gains nourishment from it.
I imagine that it staked out its territory and protects it fiercely. These days, I only have a nightmare once a year or so; I rightly can't remember the last time I had one. I...It sounds so crazy, but I think it eats nightmares. Despite all the weird foods I eat, despite all the strange thoughts dancing in my head throughout the day. Despite all the gory horror films I watch on repeat.
No nightmares. Been about two years since the last one.

So, I have not disturbed its home. I'm pretty organized, and I would hate for someone to come in and mess with my treasured possessions on a whim. My weird pillows. My warm blanket.

I don't mess with it, and it doesn't mess with me. I'm sure it likes it that way.

-The Monster Above the Bed

I look above the bed every morning, around 4:39, not to put too fine a point on it. It's almost always the same thing. A pillow that says "Life's a Beach" and a pillow with a stylized pineapple. Greenish blue sheets that have an improbable amount of cat fur. A heavy blanket with a beach scene.
And a monster.

Oh, it doesn't look like there's a monster up there. Just because you can't see it or reach it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I've made my peace with it. It's actually quite powerful, really. Despite having me, ME, taking up residence here, among the forgotten pencil and spare change, it has been sleeping so soundly.

I try to be so quiet, so invisible. You don't want one of those things to see you, do you? What would it do if it saw me, just trying to live in the safe dark corners of this world, scrounging on teeny tiny crumbs of fear while defending this patch of land from my feral kin? Some arcane ritual? Maybe bring in sage and copal? Bring the fires that brought my kind to the brink of destruction? No, I am happy with our current "arrangement".

So I have not disturbed its home. I'm pretty organized, and I would hate for someone to come in and mess with my treasured possessions on a whim. My growing dust bunny. My writing implement. My life savings of 40 cents. And this metal piece that says "MONSTER" on it. Why yes. I suppose I am.

I don't mess with it, and it doesn't mess with me. I'm sure it likes it that way.
 
2020-10-31 10:28:07 AM  
1 vote:
2021: 2020 2 Electric Boogaloo
 
2020-10-31 9:43:03 AM  
1 vote:
I started my first real job at the City of Dallas, at the I.M. Pei building you have likely seen, in RoboCop, as the Omni Consumer Corp. headquarters. (side note: I got to see Peter Weller blow up the ED-209 on the plaza, as they were filming the movie)

What most people don't know is that there is not just L1, and L2 below, that serve as parking garages and storage areas. There is an L3, and I got to know it well.
Terry C, one of the electricians with Building Services, had let me know that the cable going from our place to the Convention Center, just across the street was no longer functioning. I met up with him, and we went down to L2, and, using a tone generator and a probe, went looking for the break in the cable. He went ahead of me, and placed the tone generator while I used the probe, to ascertain that there was a signal coming back.

We had traced it all through the L2 basement area, with no loss. He came back to me, and told me that we were going to have to go downstairs, to L3. "What the hell is L3? It's not listed in the schematics of the building", I told him. "It's there, and that is where the cable was routed through when they first connected City Hall and the Convention Center", he replied.

He led me to a door I had never seen, and we went down a set of rusty, creaking iron stairs lower than I thought the building went. Then Terry opened the door at the bottom, and we were in a far different place from the Brutalist concrete world of City Hall.

L3 was not a garage, but a natural cavern, and had one of the many tributaries of the Trinity River flowing through it. "We have to be careful here", he whispered. We found the cable again, and I attached the tone generator, and we went to the next place where it was spliced. We heard the tone, and I went back to get the tg, and we proceeded from that point.

We followed the cable, testing every 200 ft. or so, and then things went south. The cable went into the water. We had no waders or anything other than the clothes on our backs and our testing equipment and tools.
Terry said, "I'm not going in that. They can suck it and run a new cable". "Yeah, I'm with you", I replied. Just about then, we heard splashing coming from the water. Something poked its head up from the water. I'm not sure what I saw, but it wasn't human. Terry and I ran back the way we had come, running like two fools in a hurry, and beat land-speed records getting back to the access door.

We made our way back up to L2, and then did our best imitation of people who had not seen a God-damned thing. In our reports, which we compared notes on, no mention of anything in the water, just that the cable was a total loss.

And that is why there was a trench, dug at ground level, to connect the Convention Center to City Hall via fiber optic cable. Best money the City of Dallas spent, even if it did take out a portion of Akard Street for a couple of months.

I don't know what was down there, and I don't want to know. Terry and I have done our 25 years with the City, and we both have our pensions. His hair is grey now, and mine is receding faster than I'd like. We have never spoken of what we saw, and just went about our jobs.

I just know that what I saw, I hope that it never makes it up into our world.
 
2020-10-31 9:33:18 AM  
1 vote:
What is a true ghost story? It has to be one that a person has experienced. There is no other way to be sure about what someone said, or saw, or felt. That eerie electricity that shakes your heart and makes your eyes tear up. The hair on the back of your neck does the same thing that you see on boars and birds and deer. Anything that feels primal fear knows that feeling, and it is unforgettable.

About 35 years ago, I was just out of college and having a good time in Southern California. My brother had some friends, and they were all right. Just down the highway and fun for movies. Yes they drank and yes they did other things, but I stayed out of it. My brother and I were both living at our parents' house, but we were old enough to have a good time and be out all night, just as long as we called so nobody would be worried.

You have probably seen Poltergeist. Well, this was the community that the movie was based loosely upon. Kind of an upper middle class suburb in Orange County. Built in the early 70s on land that had been used for god knows what for centuries before that. Boring in every sense of the word, until houses start sinking into the ground or a serial killer makes the rounds.

I arrived late to the party. I was the fifth one there, but not necessarily the fifth wheel because some of us were gay. The party was up in a bedroom. There was some wrestling around, some music, and they were drinking. When I got there they were talking about a movie. It was Eraserhead or something artsy for its time. Koyannisquattsi maybe, but that doesn't matter. I just want to give you a feeling for who these people were. Normal OC kids.

They told me the party was going to go all night. I told them I needed to call if I was going to stay. My brother had forgotten that we needed to do that. As usual, I was the responsible one.

So I walked on down the hall and went downstairs. The house was open plan with no doors, but with archways downstairs. Orange County suburban of the mid-80s. Nice place. You had a kitchen roughly in a half circle with a window looking out to the backyard, and a counter separating the kitchen from the expansive living room behind you as you looked into the kitchen. The phone was on the counter, so you would look into the kitchen while you talked on the phone, and your back would be to the TV and sofa. The important point was that once you entered from the hallway leading from the stairs, you could turn left into the kitchen, or you could go right and walk between the sofa and the television to get to another exit far at the other end of the room.

I bellied up to the counter, picked up the phone and dialed home. My dad picked up. And just as he did, a woman with an odd hairstyle from about the 50s came into the kitchen from my left. She was an attractive white blondish woman, I guess. It was odd because my friends were hispanic. I suppose she was in her mid 40s or so, and wearing a nice dress, but pastel and pink. This weird shade of pink. Kind of Jackie Kennedy style.  I smiled and she smiled back, politely. "So Dad, I will probably be watching a movie tonight with these guys and..." She walked through the kitchen, but opening some cabinets and looking inside very quietly. How polite of her. And kind of gracefully. Not bouncing with a gait, but kind of smoothly. My friends came down the stairs making a lot of noise. They hustled into the room behind me and got settled into the sofa to watch the movie. The tape went into the video deck and they waited for the movie to start.

She opened nearly every cabinet and one or two drawers. She made no noise at all.  I was finishing up with my dad. "... and it went ok. I am not sure what they have in mind, but..." She smiled at me again and moved back to the left to the refrigerator and opened it. Then it closed. I finished up the call. "OK. I will see you tomorrow."  Just out of the corner of my eye, I saw her walk into the living room behind me to my left as I turned to my right to hang up the phone.

I hung up the phone, spun around from the counter and said to my friends sitting there, "Done! All set! The parental units have been informed and I am good til tomorrow AM!"

"Yay! Mission accomplished. Have a beer 2far!"

I knew I would not be driving so... "Don't mind if I do!"  Slurp. "By the way guys, you said we had the house all to ourselves, right?"

"Yeah. Parents are out of town."

They HAD said that, but now it made no sense. "So who was that woman?"

"What woman?"

"The one in pink who walked through here."

"There is nobody here but us,  you kook." They started laughing at me until they could see I was horrified.

That feeling never really leaves you. Before you have it, the whole world makes sense. There is no monster in the closet. Everything is cause and effect. But then you get religion, or get insanity, and you run it over and over in your mind trying to figure out who she was and why she floated and why she smiled and why nobody saw her. That woman was there with me in that room, and she never scared me a bit before I knew she was not real.

But she has scared me ever since. I see my old friends from time to time. We don't talk about it.
 
2020-10-31 8:02:15 AM  
1 vote:

hobnail: 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.


You think that was fake?
Just stay calm in your next night drive.
 
2020-10-31 6:57:19 AM  
1 vote:
Welp, guess we can't talk about boobies any more.
Fark user imageView Full Size
 
2020-10-31 6:34:22 AM  
1 vote:

Turing_Machine: 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


Yay! Finally!
Thanks TM.
 
2020-10-30 7:11:26 PM  
1 vote:
Way back when I was a very young girl, we used to visit my Grandparents Up North. Now, their house had once been owned by the local Indian nation. In time a barn, stable, feed room and tack room were added adjacent to the house, with connecting corridors. As a kid it was fascinating, and I can remember shimmying under the barn door to look into the gloom..nothing exciting, but off limits for us kids, so definitely a place you haad to go and sneak into.

Frequently while we were up there, the Parents and Grands would go off and do something that was not "kid friendly" and so we would have an early dinner and then be left in the house to enterain ourselves.

I've always been a fairly precociouse reader, so I had grabbed a copy of "The Burnished Blade" from the book shelf in my Mom's old room. Not a 12 yr old book..I was reading and we had some nice light rain..couple of thunder claps, but nothing all that worrisome.

This bedroom had a door to the "attic" which was really just the eaves, which had boards layed across the joists so that you could store things up there and it was way wild creepy..very bad vibe..anyway, while I was reading in the bedroom, there was a ruckus in the attic. Think heavy objects dropped, bangs etc. It was scary, but I really wanted to get back to my very inappropriate book..so I said out loud, "Will you knock it off? I'm not afraid of you." And probably something about wanting to finish the book. Well, the attic was instantly silent. And it remained silent for me..not so much for my brother and his fiance..there was so much noise that they could not sleep in that bedroom.
 
2020-10-30 6:03:35 PM  
1 vote:
I'll C&P my annual submission from the last 10 years or so.....all a true story. No, I still don't believe in gosts but honest to god true story......


Whatever happened to flying bible guy? I don't recall a followup on that one.....

Anyway, I'm not a believer in ghosts or anything like that, and pretty skeptical to the whole thing, but my story (sorry for the tolstoy):

My first summer after highschool, I worked for my neighbor. He had a contracting business that mainly did light remodels on houses. Painting\general caprentry\basic landscaping\building decks, stuff like that. The usual crew was this guy, his partner, myself and one or two of my friends, and a general laborer or two, depending on the size of the job.

About halfway through the summer we got a job to do some cleanup on a house a few towns over which had been neglected for a while. Repaint inside and out, fix some squeaky floors and water damage, clean up the yard, etc. It was a decent sized house, and needed a ton of work, and the estimate was that it would take about a month to do it right. The homeowners had no problem, as they were not living there, and were planning on selling the place. Everything inside had already been cleared out (for the most part).

The first few days we spent just clearing brush and stuff out of the yards, so we could get equipment in to work on the exterior. Once that was done, we split off into two crews, one scraping the outside of the house, and one doing work on the inside. It was the summer, and the place did not have a/c, so the easier job was the work outside, and we would rotate who was in and who was out.

To give you an idea of the layout of the house. When you walked in the front door, you had large room off to your immediate right and left. Straight ahead of you and to your left you had a staircase that went up to the second floor, to the right a small bathroom, and then straight back to the kitchen and another large room. Upstairs you had 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. There was only one staircase to the second floor.

We started in the front rooms, and within an hour or so our radio started acting up. It was an older boom box type thing, with a manual casette player, and the knob with the slide for tuning the stations. In other words, it was all mechanical, not digital. At least 3 times, the station changed on its own, from 102.7 which we were listening to, to other random stations (sorry, no creepy oldies music or anything). What is interesting is when it changed stations, the station it would end up on would be perfectly tuned in, and the jump between stations was very quick, much quicker than a person could turn the knob and tune in the station so well, and then get away from the radio without being noticed, like, a seconds time, just enough time for the slide to traverse the distance to the other station. No, the radio didn't have the mechanical station presets.

At least twice when this happened I was in the room, and while my back was turned to it, the radio was in a location where it would have been damned near impossible for someone to get to it, turn the station and then get out of there. It was not by a window either. On a few occasions the volume would go WAY up, up beyond a point that I thought this thing was capable of producing. We then moved the radio to a different room, blaming it on bad power, and the problems let up.

Other strange things: Lights would go on or off while you were working, including our own portable floodlights. It wasn't power was cut or anything, but the actual switch was thrown. You could also hear footsteps above you when you were sure nobody was upstairs.

The final kicker, as we were wrapping up the work on the place, I was replacing some molding in a second floor bedroom. I had a large heavy steel toolbox, with a bunch of tools in it, that must have weighed 30 or 40 pounds. One of those big craftsman jobs. I had finished off most of what I was doing, and had most of my stuff put away when our lunch showed up. It was raining outside, so were all sitting in the main entrance way by the stairs, in fact, myself and another guy were sitting on the stairs. EVERYONE was accounted for. By this point we were all always joking around how we were working in a haunted house, due to all the strange stuff that was going on, but noone was taking it real seriously. Everyone was pretty much convinced that it was the combination of an old house, our imagination, and probably a few of us screwing around with eachother causing the stuff. Mid conversation about this, there was a giant crash from upstairs. One of the dudes freaked and just ran for the door. Myself and the dude sitting on the stairs next turned and went up the stairs. At the top of the stairs you had a clear view of the entrance way to all of the rooms, so in the 3 seconds it took for us to climb them, nobody would be able to get out of a room without being spotted.

Inside the room I had been working, my heavy metal toolbox had been tossed across the room, its contents scattered. The time from when it happened to when I got there was so short that stuff was still rolling around. Again, this was a 30-40 pound toolbox, which was sitting on the floor, and had been clearly tossed a good 10 feet. We checked the other rooms and of course found nothing. To go out the window (which was closed as it was raining) would have been a 15 foot drop into some nasty bushes. No ladders were up on the house, or even off the truck for that matter that day, due to the rain. Everyone working there was sitting with us while we ate, and nobody could have gotten past us and down the stairs while we checked the rooms, as there were people watching the stairs.

It was pretty damn scary, and the final couple of days of us working there everyone was really on edge. Nobody would go into rooms alone, and you could tell everyone was pretty much scared shiatless.

The boss mentioned the goings on to the homeowner who was just kind of like "ehh whatever". A few years later, the place burned to the ground, and one of the guys I worked with that summer, who now lived in the town, sent me a story from the local paper. It turns out that the previous owner who lived there was a shut-in type person after his wife died a decade or so prior, Didn't ever really come out much/do much, which explained the neglect. He had died about a year prior to us working on the house, but nobody found his body for at least 6 months. The people who had hired us was his estranged sons family, who had inherited the house and were trying to sell it.

The house had changed hands a couple of times in the several years after we had worked on it, nobody ever staying very long, and it growing a "haunted" legend in the town.

In the intrest of brevity, I left out some of the smaller parts of the story that were strange, or could have been explained away easier, but suffice to say, some weird stuff was going on while we were there. I'm not one that really believes in ghosts or anything, but I have no way of explaining some of the stuff that happened there in any rational way. Thinking about it still gives me the chills. Nobody was aware of the story behind the house when we were working there, and you could tell after the toolbox incident everyone was truly on edge.
 
FNG [TotalFark]
2020-10-30 4:50:52 PM  
1 vote:
When I was in college, we would get all boozed up and go to the American Military Academy in central Virginia late at night. It was an abandoned academy that was said to be haunted, and had caretakers who were satanists. We knew this because several rooms on the bottom floor were filled with occult and satanist propaganda materials, including business cards and handbooks with occult sayings, spells and the like.

There were trivia pursuit-style questions involving satanism in plastic trash bags, and monopoly-style board games that also revolved around devil worship.

The caretakers were known to shoot at anyone they caught in the academy, which was basically a prison, with celled-barracks with bars, and four turrets on the top floor.  We had never actually heard of anyone being shot, but we had seen all the devil worship stuff before (this wasn't our first trip).

One night when we went, there were four of us, and we went through the cells and corridors, looking at all the weird shiat as we made our way up the five floors to the top.  From there was a nice view of the mountains in the moonlight and a middle-of-nowhere star-filled sky.

I wasn't concerned about ghosts.  I was concerned about angry, shoot-y satanists, but before we went in, we had checked their house on the property and there were no lights on but the porch light.

As we made our way to the top floor, there was only a rickety wooden staircase left.  My friend went up first, followed by our girlfriends, and I brought up the rear.

Since I'm last to go up the staircase, no one is behind me, right?

I get to the top of the stairs and someone is stomping up the stairs behind me. No kidding. I know everyone is in front of me. I look behind me and the climbing footsteps keep getting louder and louder as they get closer to the top where I was. Like some heavy, invisible person was coming up behind me, and they weren't stopping.

Everyone heard it, no one could explain it, and we were freaking the fark out.  Everyone darted to hide behind something, and then we all tore down the stairs (the air in the staircase was freezing despite the warm summer air). We bolted down the other staircases and got the hell out of there.

Getting back to the car was probably the fastest half mile I've ever run.

Never went back.
 
2020-10-30 2:16:00 PM  
1 vote:
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 2:13:07 PM  
1 vote:
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 2:09:24 PM  
1 vote:
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 1:46:59 PM  
1 vote:
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.
 
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