Scary Stories 2013 by EDWARDSVILLE PUBLISHING

SCARY STORIES 2013

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Page - Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013

Staring At The Dark By Kendall Clark

“Stare at the dark too long and you will eventually see what isn’t there.” -Cameron Jace, Snow White Sorrow. Emile let out an exasperated sigh as she flopped back onto what was barely a mattress, hoping her parents could hear her distress from the other room. While every other teenager was out kicking off their summer, she was stuck cooped up in a dusty cabin in the middle of nowhere with her family. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and let out yet another sigh when she saw the screen flash “NO SIGNAL.” Hesitantly, she removed herself from the bed, groaning in the process, and went to look around the room in which she would be staying for the next two weeks. She approached a wall made of wooden boards, which was being covered with shelves holding books and various examples of taxidermy. Emile approached one of the shelves and placed her hand upon it, but quickly jolted back out of shock as the entire shelf collapsed to the floor. If she would have sighed any harder, she would have been light-headed from the lack of air. The place is in great shape, they said, she thought to herself. You will love it, they said. She heard a knock on the door and turned to see her older brother, Noah, standing in the doorframe along with her basset hound Dakota. “Could you attempt being a little less dramatic?” He started off, sounding purposely annoying. “Your exasperated breathing is creating a draft.” Emile scoffed. “Please. What you’re feeling is the wind entering through what is a failed attempt at good architecture,” she said as she stuck her index finger through a hole in the wall, proving her point. Dakota barked and came to sit at her feet. “Stop complaining. You used to love coming out here with grandpa,” Noah exclaimed as he wiped the dust off of his hands, which happened to be a result of touching one of the dated books. She did not answer him. The only reason Emile had enjoyed camping with her grandfather was because he had a way of making her forget about the lack of lighting throughout the campgrounds (ever since she had been a child, Emile had a great fear of the dark, or more accurately, what lurked around inside it.) Without him, she had no desire to return, and she would not have if her parents had not have insisted on it. “Whatever,” Noah finally spoke, impatient with her. He began to walk out of the room when he turned back to her and teasingly added, “By the way, mom says to tell you we are walking to the Lynnens’ cabin. Might want to start charging your flashlights.” Emile felt her breath hitch in her throat. The Lynnens lived in the cabin next door, that is, if you count a house almost three miles away the next door. It was not that she did not enjoy visiting them, it was the fact that the only way to get there was to take Forester Alley, which was hands-down the most sinister road she had ever been on. The road was more potholes than it was pavement. Former campers had nicknamed the trees outlining the road “Whistling Trees” because of the chilling noise they made when the wind blew. To top it off, there were no street lights, leaving the entire road seeming like a blur of black that stretched on forever. Emile had swore the last time she had walked down the road, she had seen and heard creatures almost unearthly. She felt a shiver run up her spine as she looked out the dirt-caked window of

the cabin to see that the sun had already set, meaning they would be walking in the dark. Emile quickly made her way to her purple suitcase and dug out her flashlights and lanterns, along with a small bag of AAA batteries. Fingers shaky with fear, she began to fill the flashlight with the batteries. She nearly felt herself jump out her own skin when she heard the voice of her mother calling her name. “Emile! Your father and I will be waiting for you outside!” Just after her mother had finished, Emile’s head shot towards the direction of the window once she heard the sound of owls hooting from the large redwood trees. She sighed as she began to tie her shoes. I’m fine, she repeated to herself. It is just the woods… When Emile walked outside onto the wooden porch, she froze when she noticed the absence of the rest of her family. She looked left, right, then left again. Nothing. “Mom?” She called out, her voice shaking. Emile pulled her woolen jacket closer to her as she switched her flashlight on and slowly inched down the creaking stairs. “Noah?” She tried again, praying that her brother would appear from the dark abyss. When he never did, she knew that they had left without her, and that she was on her own. Emile now stood at the edge of the driveway, next to the light brown mailbox, contemplating her next move. As bad as she wanted to return to the cabin, she knew her mother would have a fit later on if she did not show herself at the Lynnens that night. It was almost like the Devil was sitting on one end of her shoulders and an angel on the other, and she was stuck in the middle deciding who to listen to, whose direction to follow. Breathing deeply, clutching her flashlight, she stepped forward onto Forester Alley and began to make her way towards the Lynnens’ cabin. It was not long before she began to her the noises. Emile tried to focus her attention on the shaking light from the flashlight on the road. She was constantly jumping on either side of the road at the sound of a rustling branch, or even the wind. It seemed the longer she stopped to scope out the scene, the more she convinced herself that the darkness she stared into held horrid creatures beyond imagination. It was like her eyes were trying to play tricks on her, showing her movements that may or may not have even been there. Emile felt herself pick up speed when she began to imagine what lurked around her in her head, and when she heard a twig snap to her left, she broke into a run. She felt a cold sweat on her forehead form as she heard quick footsteps advance on her. Emile attempted to look back to catch a glimpse at what was chasing her, but it was like looking through a thick blanket. When she attempted to look back again, Emile stumbled over a pothole and fell to the pavement. She felt her flashlight slip from her hand and listened as it rolled away from her grasp. Emile brought her knees to her chest and dug her face in her knees as she let out a squeal. She heard the footsteps slow as the creature approached her, letting out deep, sloppy breaths. Struggling for breath and fighting back tears, Emile nearly felt her heart stop as she felt the creature… Licking her? Emile slowly looked up from her knees and blinked her blurry eyes to see none other than her basset hound, Dakota. He ran excited circles around her and began pawing at her shoulder. Emile gradually relaxed and let out a relieved laugh as she wrapped the small dog into a hug. Slowly standing and gathering herself, she walked over to where she saw the beam of her flashlight on the ground, grasped it and shined the light ahead of her for Dakota to happily chase. Emile began to continue her long journey down the road as Dakota trotted ahead, not only feeling confident, but no longer feeling alone.

Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013 - Page

The Calling By Brynn Cross The windows shook and the lights flickered. The chime of the clock striking midnight broke the silence of that chilly October night. Just as the last sound stopped, creatures from all directions began to rise from every nook and corner of the large mansion. They were slithering, crawling, and jumping their way out of their hiding places with one goal on their mind. Devilish looking faces, all with sharp teeth, turned their heads abruptly one way and then another. When their eyes met the staircase, the intimidating monsters started to make their way up them. When the last creature reached the landing, all craziness broke loose. The sounds of slamming doors and breaking glass filled the house. The creatures screeched and howled and moaned and growled. Young Tommy at the age of seven lay in his bed fast asleep. The noise did not seem to wake him. One creature walked through the door to Tommy's room, attacked the boy's face, and screeched with excitement. Footsteps of Tommy's mom and dad came pounding down the hallway. The distinct noise of the screech not only woke Tommy's parents, but also others. Just as they burst through the door, the creature disappeared into thin air. Tommy lay in his bed, his face mauled, and his body a faint blue. Sirens roared throughout the city as all neighbors gathered in the street. Policemen ran around frantically trying to keep people back as medics rushed into the house. Tommy's mother sat on the curb crying as a plane flew up

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above. The wind picked up and from the sky fell more of those murderous creatures. Thousands were falling by the second. As they reached the earth they began their mission to take over the world. Now not only were the police officers running like maniacs, but so were all the citizens of that small Arkansas town. An old woman ran for her life towards her home, but just as she reached the front door, the largest creature ripped off her head. Limbs were flying all over. Arms, legs, hands, and feet were torn from bodies. Wounded people lay in the middle of the street, fighting to survive. The longer the creatures were there, the larger they became. By now, some were the size of many of the houses on that street. They tore through the neighborhood smashing everything in their path. Houses, cars, trees, and light posts were trampled by their powerful step. News crews were out trying to inform all the people they could, but they knew it was no use. The creatures were too strong and impossible to contain. Everyone was searching for an answer to where they had come from. By morning the creatures had destroyed every square mile of 5 states. They were multiplying. Spreading across the United States was becoming easier, considering they had grown in size. Now the height of the St. Louis Arch, the monsters were making immense progress. The rampage lasted for weeks. They grew to the point they could cross the oceans with no trouble at all. They reached France, Japan, and even as far south as Antarctica. They had officially taken over the world. Not a sign of human life was left, except for Tommy, who had created them all.

Page - Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013

A Park Mural By James Ariail

You think Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m a liar. But, what Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m about to tell you is true. I lost my best friend to those things. They took him away and Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve never seen him since. But now, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m going to go looking for him. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m going to kill all the things that took him from my world. It all started when my friend the policeman, Steven Wilcox, started patrolling the local park. When Steven first started his job, the groundskeeper told him, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Tomorrow, the city is bringing in a mural that was donated by an anonymous person. But thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s all you really need to know since you have been a policeman for a long time.â&#x20AC;? That was the last time anyone ever saw the groundskeeper, William Jacobson. The mural was a forest, a small shack with one window, and three men with hatchets. The name of the mural was â&#x20AC;&#x153;Three Loggers Chopping Wood.â&#x20AC;? Steven Wilcox had an uneventful first day on patrol. The police were searching for the missing groundskeeper. The next day, a man named John White also went missing. The third day, I was walking with Steven and noticed that, inside the mural, the door to the shack was slightly ajar. Yesterday, the door was closed. The next day, Steven and I were walking and he said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll meet you at your house in five minutes, after I finish my patrol.â&#x20AC;? I left him, but then heard a muffled shout. I turned back to the mural, where Steven was, but no one was there. I looked at the mural, but the door to the shack was closed and two of the loggers had disappeared. I turned around to run, but the last logger was there. I backed up and felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders and dragged me into

the mural. I felt something hard hit my head and I was knocked out. When I woke, I was inside a shack with a man who I recognized as the missing John White. He looked up and said sadly â&#x20AC;&#x153;So they got you too?â&#x20AC;? â&#x20AC;&#x153;Yes,â&#x20AC;? I replied, â&#x20AC;&#x153;where are the two other men?â&#x20AC;? The man responded, â&#x20AC;&#x153;The old groundskeeper was dragged away yesterday and when I looked out the window, the loggers shot him with my gun.â&#x20AC;? â&#x20AC;&#x153;Why are they doing this?â&#x20AC;? I asked. â&#x20AC;&#x153;They havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t told me. I think theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re just insane,â&#x20AC;? he answered. All of a sudden, the door flew open and the three loggers, armed with hatchets, were standing in the doorway. â&#x20AC;&#x153;What did you do with my friend?â&#x20AC;? I shouted. â&#x20AC;&#x153;We havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t hurt him yet,â&#x20AC;? one said. Suddenly, I had an idea. I glanced out the window and noticed that Stevenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s gun was lying on the ground, just outside the shack. I leaped through the window and managed to grab his gun. I twisted around and fired at the first logger. It hit him squarely in the chest; he screamed in pain and dropped his hatchet. I dove to the side and lost the gun. I realized that I could still get out of the mural and jumped away from the shack. I broke through an invisible barrier and landed in the real world, right into a crowd of people. I shouted â&#x20AC;&#x153;you must destroy that mural.â&#x20AC;? One of the people recognized me and said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been missing for two days. Did you just come through that mural?â&#x20AC;? â&#x20AC;&#x153;Yes,â&#x20AC;? I said. I looked at the mural and it showed three loggers chopping wood. I recognized one of the loggers as my best friend, Steven. I tried to push through, but I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t go through the mural. I looked up and noticed that the title was â&#x20AC;&#x153;Three Loggers Chopping Wood.â&#x20AC;? The End

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Mother and Daughter By Raylee Hook I feel the chill of the wind against my cheek. I am sitting on my old wood rocking chair on my porch. I look out and see all of these children in costumes, they are all smiling and happy. Some are stuffing their faces with candy, some parents are yelling at them not to. I really like the lady bug outfits. They are just so adorable on those little kids. I remember when I was their age, about ten. I went trick or treating with a group of my friends. Now back in the day we would roam the streets and it was okay. We all went to Samantha's house to meet. Samantha's parents were very rich; she had a swimming pool. My parents never even thought of getting one because they were too concerned about bills. My father worked in the coal mine, and my mother was a nurse. She worked voluntarily so she only got paid through tips. I didn't let being poor set me back at all. I was always very adventurous! I loved going outside and exploring new places. While I am pondering my thoughts, a little lady bug comes up to me. "Trick or Treat!" The little lady bug says with a smile. "Happy Halloween, Miss Lady bug! I love your outfit! you know I had a costume similar whenever I was about your age as well. I was 10," I say. "I am ten too! Wow! That must have been a long time ago. Aren't you like 100 or something?" "For your information, Miss Lady bug, I am far away from 100. I happen to be 83 years old." "That isn't that far away! So did you make any good memories in your lady bug costume?" The little lady bug asks me. "Well, yes dear. Whenever I saw your costume I started to remember every thing. Would you like me to tell you the story?" "Oh yes please!" The lady bug shouted. "Well they all weren't good memories I have scary and sad memories as well. Are you sure you want to hear them?" "Oh, yes, ma'am, I am very excited please tell me." "Oh alright, you may want to go and get your mother, she might be worried. I can tell you both the story." I look out and see the little lady bug's mother, looking very worried and clueless wondering what is taking her daughter so long. I wave and smile to her and she smiles back. "Mommy, grandma wants to tell me a story and you, too! She knows how old she is!! Mom, she remembers something because I wore this outfit just like you said." I saw the lady bug talking to her mom, but I could not hear anything. My mom looked at me and said something back. "Yes, honey that is very good! Let's go see your grandmother." The mother stopped talking and smiled. They walked up to me. "Hello, I am Mildred Lee. I love your daughter's costume. I used to have one like it myself at her age," I told the little lady bug's mother. "Hi Mildred, I am Samantha Woods and this is my daughter is Millie. We would love to hear your story," The mother replied. "Okay, I would love to tell it." I told them about Samantha and how rich her family and was and how poor mine was. I also told them how we all met up at Samantha's house when Millie asked a question. "Why did you meet at Samantha's house?" "We met up at Samantha's house because her parents invited us there. They had a very nice house. It was so big and they filled it with nice things. Samantha always wore nice

Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013 - Page clothes, but she was a very humble person and kind. She was my best friend, and I was one of the poorest people in the city of Atwood at the time. There was six of us at her house. There was me, Samantha, Johnathan, George, Barbra, and Ellis. Ellis, George, and Jonathan are my siblings. We are quadruplets. It was a very rare thing back then. Barbra is Samantha's twin sister. We looked nothing like our siblings and always got picked on for being different and not playing sports. We got through it together. So 73 years ago this night we all met up at Samantha's house. After we all got there we ate cupcakes and left. Would you like me to show you her house?" "You remember where her house is?" the little lady bug Millie asked. "I sure do, come follow me." I got up and headed to my car. I offered them a ride. They accepted the offer, and we went to the next neighborhood, Lakewood. I parked the car right in front of what is left of Samantha's house. "Wow! Is that her house?" Millie asked. "Yes Millie, sadly that night I was telling you about when we were 10, after we left her house that night her house caught on fire. Both of Samantha's parents died in that fire. Her grandmother got custody of her, and my mother told her we were not wealthy, but that she would take in Barbra and Samantha. So they lived with us. Every day for 3 years we would come down here everyday." "Wait, wasn't it scary?" Millie asked. "No, well not until we came here on Halloween night on the 3rd anniversary of her parents' deaths. That night we were standing on the living room floor or what is left of it." "I am going to climb to the top of the house," Samantha said. "Get down, don't do that you can get hurt!" I shouted back. "Why does it even matter? Both of my parents are dead." "It matters because you are my best friend." "And you are mine, Mildred." Samantha jumped off the house and died right in front of me. My best friend gone in an instant! "Mom, I am so sorry! You never told me that happened," Samantha Woods said. "Mom? Did you just call me mom? What is the matter with you?" "I am your daughter; you have dementia." "Mommy, is it happening again? Is grandma okay." Millie asked. "I am afraid so, but she is okay go sit on the house give me and grandma a second okay!" "Okay, I love you mom." "I love you, too, honey." Then she turns to her mom. "Calm down, I did not say mom. I said hon. It is Halloween and you were telling me about how your best friend died here, Samantha." "You are not trying to hurt me?" I asked, concerned. "No, not at all, just trying to get to know you better." "Okay then, well Samantha fell off the top of the house, but she was pushed by something. It tried to push me off as well, but Samantha got pushed off first, and I ran home crying and screaming, traumatized. My mom came to my aid, and we came back here, and when we came back Samantha's body was gone. No one in my family believed me, so my mom told the cops that she ran away; but she died!" "Ahhhhhhhh!" I heard Millie yell. Samantha Woods and I turned and saw Millie fall from the top of the house. Samantha Woods started sobbing and ran to her daughter, crying and traumatized, and this is the moment I realized she is my daughter because I saw myself in her at the worst moment in her life.

Page - Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013

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Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013 - Page

Haunted Hotel By Maria Mezo ŕ¤&#x20AC;You may think that my story is false, but I know that it is one-hundred percent true. In fact, I was there. Down in southern Alabama, there was a hotel called Brownâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Inn, or as most people there called it, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Haunted Hotelâ&#x20AC;?. I went there in 1895 with my dear brother, William, who never left. ŕ¤&#x20AC;For my eighteenth birthday William gave me the greatest gift ever (or so I thought). We were going on a trip to meet with our older sister, who we only saw once when we were very young. Sunday, we stopped in an abandoned little town in Alabama called Brownsville. We stayed at the only hotel there, a little one-story place called Brownâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Inn, to wait for our sister â&#x20AC;&#x2122;s arrival next Sunday. ŕ¤&#x20AC;Room 7, appearing as a cute little room was actually quite creepy. The first night we were there I was awakened by a sound. Thumpâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Ś.. Thumpâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;Ś.. Thump. All the pictures fell off the walls as if someone was pulling them down. I looked around but saw no one, and went back to bed. In the morning, I looked around again and saw the pictures perfectly placed on the walls (I thought then that I was dreaming about them falling). I asked William if he heard anything that night. He said no. The second night I heard a shriek. This time William woke up, too. We went to the front desk and asked about the screaming. The clerk said that none of the rooms around us was occupied.

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We decided that it was our imagination. In the morning when the maid came in, I asked her about it. She said,â&#x20AC;? Everybody who stays in this room has that problem and usually leaves the next day. Some believe that it is a ghost, but others think that it is just squeaking from loose boards. I think it may have something do with Essie Brown, the daughter of whom the town was named after. She passed away in this hotel, and ever since strange things have happened.â&#x20AC;? ŕ¤&#x20AC; Tuesday night was the worst. I was very scared, but I didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t wake up. In my dreams, I saw my brother and a girl walking away into a foggy forest. In the morning things got really strange. I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t find William. I asked all around the hotel, but no one knew anything. I thought maybe he just went out somewhere and would be back later. He still wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t there that night. Wednesday night I could barely fall asleep. I was lying in my bed and staring at the door waiting for William to walk in. In the middle of the night, I woke up to a whisper saying, â&#x20AC;&#x153;I have your brother.â&#x20AC;? and, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Violet, donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t tell.â&#x20AC;? The same thing happened on the fifth night. The next morning I was so scared, I told the maid about what happened (she was so scared, that she quit her job and moved away). The sixth night I heard screams again, but these were different. They were a manâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s screams. Saturday night I heard the whispering again. This time it said,â&#x20AC;? You told them! So now you are being punished! I killed your brother! Just like they killed me!â&#x20AC;? I waited three more days at that hotel for my sister, who never showed up. When I went to check out no one was in the hotel, only the furniture was left. From then on I always follow everyoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s command. ŕ¤&#x20AC;

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Page - Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013

The Jumper By Mary Webb

How did I let this happen? I watched as the man approached the side of the building. He looked at me with sorry eyes and jumped. I didn’t say a word; I just watched as he took his own life and greeted death at the foot of the building. Why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t I catch him, stop him, and tell him all he had to live for? He was on the news today. John Meyers was his name. He had two daughters, Jen and Morgan, and a wife, Elizabeth. I watched as they cried and talked about him. They didn’t say it, but I know that they thought it was my fault. Thought that if I’d have told him not to do it, then he would still be here. But I didn’t, and they will blame me until the day I die for it. I called in sick today at work. I can’t bear the guilt that this has brought me. I went back to work today. Everyone keeps acting like I did nothing, but I know that they are all blaming me in their minds. They think it’s my fault. Everyone’s secretly turning on me, I know it. I asked my coworker Jim why everyone is acting like I don’t know what they’re actually doing, and he pretended that

The Black Box By Abbey D’Albora *CLICK* Hello. This is Danielle Watters. If you are listening to this I am dead. I should have stopped earlier, but I was to the point of no return. I have questions that need to be answered, and I am anxious to find out what everything means. It is difficult to explain exactly what I found, and what I have in my hands right now, but I want you to know something before you continue on this journey with me. If you are my Mother, I advise you to stop the tape recorder now. I love you and don’t want you to know what happened. I know in your heart you want to listen, but you will not be able to handle the pain, but know that I love you. Father, I love you, too. I know you may want to listen to these tapes, but I advise you not to. I don’t know exactly what is going to happen tonight. Now that I have my goodbyes over with, I will continue. ऀI found an old black box in the shed at Grandpa’s. It was decorated with an intricate design. Inside the black box there was a book of the same color. The black book had drawings all over it, and I assumed it was a journal. However when I opened it, I found some peculiar writing inside. I was not sure what language it was, so I took it into the house and typed the first few words into the computer, e profundo barathro. It means from the depths of the netherworld. Surprising, I know. I went back to the shed to where I found the book. In the black box were a few other items. One was a piece of yellowed paper that had scribbles on it depicting a map. On top of the map was a compass pointing south. The last thing was a flashlight. The flashlight did not shine, however. I assumed the batteries were dead. After I found *CLICK* ऀ“Peter, I just don’t understand. I cannot listen to our daughter talk like she is still here when she is missing. It is not right to listen to this. That box was given to me as a child. My older sister, Sarah, gave me the box before she died. I never opened it because I could not bear to look inside,” Maria said, biting back her tears. “Maria, we need to listen to this. We owe it to her. She even said you didn’t have to listen to it. I will,” Peter said to his wife. “I need to listen to it. It cannot just be you who knows our daughter’s fate. I will not have it.”

he didn’t know. My own friend is turning on me. If he is turning on me, then I know for sure that the rest of the population is, too. I watched the news last night, and John Meyers wasn’t on. Not only are they pretending that I didn’t do anything, they’re pretending that John never killed himself. This guilt is enveloping me and there is nowhere to hide. The world has turned on me, and I can’t turn them back. John Meyers is dead, and I should be, too. I wrote his family a letter this morning. I spilled everything. I told them that I was on the roof when he jumped and I didn’t say a thing. When I was finished, I wrote them a check for everything in my bank account. No amount of money can change what has happened. I sent the letter and I started driving to the building where John killed himself. I was going to make things right. The stairs to the roof of the building was grueling. Every step I took was drawing me closer to the place where everything started. I finally got to the top and started to the edge of the building. I stood on the edge. Right where John had stood and took a breath. I turned my head to see a man there with me. He must’ve been working on the antenna. I looked at him with sorry eyes and jumped. And just for a second I could see a man filled with guilt looking back at me. *CLICK* the flashlight and tried it multiple times, I gave up. I went inside and translated the first paragraph on the internet. I will read it back to you. From the depths of the netherworld will come your end from the death of your soul you will rise to be possessed by the yellow light that will haunt your soul for the rest of eternity. With the grace of opening this book you now have the vexation of the Devil himself. By turning on the flashlight, in a dark room it will glow. It will glow when you read the following paragraph. The paper will guide you to where you need to go. Pick up the compass and go south. Follow the directions on the map. Then when you find the destination, grab the flashlight, turn it on, and read. Everything will be different, and for the better. Scary huh? So I did just that. I grabbed everything and put it in my bag and set off. I wanted to know what it was, maybe even why my boring old Grandpa had this in the first place. *CLICK* ऀ“Is that the end of it? Peter, I want to hear what happens next! What happened to our little girl? God, why did Sarah have to put me in this position?” Maria exclaimed to Peter. “Maria darling, calm down. I am worried, too, and angry with your sister. However, it is not a time to get worked up. The tape just ended. We will listen to the other side now. Are you ready, or do you want to take a little while to let everything we just heard settle down?” “No Peter! I want to do this.” ऀ*CLICK* *Heavy breathing* so right now I am riding my bike through town making sure to say hi to everyone I see… Hello Mr. Cretiner! If I go missing I want people to say they saw me… So right now the plan is to follow this map and go south until I find old man Mortem’s house. He died a year or so ago, but it looks like the first checkpoint is near there. *CLICK* I put you on pause because it was difficult to ride in a place without a road… However I am at the check point and don’t see anything. Now it just says to head to the next on by the weeping willow. I used to go there when I got into trouble or I was upset. *CLICK* Okay I am here. Nothing really happened at the weeping willow. So now, I am in the middle of the woods by an old shack, it looks pre-prohibition. Very scary, if you cannot tell, I am being sarcastic. On the map it says to stand on the porch of the old house and read the writing and turn the flashlight on. *CLICK* Continued on Page 10

Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013 - Page

Stay Away from Strangers By Blair Baugher ऀ Diiiiiiiiiiiiiing! Rang the school bell. It was 3 o’clock on the best holiday ever, Halloween. Jason Smith was excitedly packing up his backpack and getting ready to leave school. Tonight, he and his sister Sara would be going trick or treating. They had already mapped out exactly which houses they were going to go to, to get the most candy. Jason was going as a zombie, and Sara was going as a witch. ऀThe time had finally come. It was 5:30 p.m. and Jason and Sara were about to start out on their trick or treating adventure. Their parents told them to be safe and wished them luck. The first house they went to was a yellow house with a red front door. The lawn looked well-kept and there were a few carved pumpkins on the porch. Sara rang the doorbell, as she was the first one to the door. A few seconds later a little old lady opened the door. The little old lady had a wide variety of treats from Kit Kats to Skittles—she had it all! ऀAfter a few houses, Jason and Sara came upon a large brick house. They went up to the door and knocked, but no one came to the door, so they knocked a second time, but again no one came. As they were walking away, someone opened the door. In the door frame stood an obese woman in her mid 40’s. ऀ“Hello children, come inside” spoke the woman. ऀTheir parents told them to never come inside strangers’ homes. The woman promised she had a lot of candy inside; she had just run out of the bag she had near the front door. Jason and Sara followed her to the back of her house. The décor in her house was very dark and plain. All of the walls in her house

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were black, as were the rugs. ऀ“Take a seat at my table, and make yourselves comfortable,” said the woman. ऀJason and Sara sat down and patiently waited for their candy. They noticed something on her stove that was boiling. The pot was fairly large and didn’t really have a smell. The woman poured a cup of whatever-was-in-the-pot for herself. She then got two more cups and poured more of the creation for the children. ऀ“Drink up, this drink is very good for you!” The woman muttered. ऀThe children were not very hungry or thirsty, but they were a little cold from outside, so they drank the drink. After a few minutes the children started getting anxious for their candy. When Sara went to take her witch’s hat off, she couldn’t…not at all. She tugged and she pulled, but her hat would NOT come off. Jason then tried to take his mask off, and it, too, would not come off. ऀ“Aha children, my potion has worked! You will now be my creatures forever. I’m going to keep you as servants, too. Everyone in the real world will be too scared of you to believe you’re humans. “ ऀDiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! Went the alarm clock. Jason Smith got up and looked in the mirror. There was no mask and he looked like him normal self. Jason ran to his sister Sara’s room and she, too, looked like her normal self. Jason realized all of that had been a dream and Halloween wasn’t for another two weeks. He was very happy and relieved that he wasn’t a permanent zombie and his sister wasn’t a witch. ऀ Jason learned a valuable lesson from his wacky un-realistic dream. He would never go in a stranger’s house again—especially without his parents!!

Page 10- Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013

The Marching Dead By Curt Sellers “Welcome, everyone, to this year ’s fall marching band program!” shouted the petite band director. “My name is Mrs. Warren, and I will be leading you throughout this season.” “Last year our show fell apart. I will be working you very hard these next two weeks, so this year will be different. Our theme this year will be called ‘Creepy Classics’ in the spirit of the Halloween season, when most of our competitions are. We will be playing several songs including: “Danse Macabre,” “Toccata and Fugue,” “Night on Bald Mountain,” “Sorcerer ’s Apprentice,” and the theme from the horror series ‘Halloween.’” After hours under the hot August sun, some of the members finally got to eat their lunches. One of the tuba players, Joe Swanson, slept in late, skipped breakfast, and had to eat meat in his lunch that had been in lunch bag without an ice pack. His friend, Sam Alexander, who played alto sax, needed lunch, too, because he thought that lunch was provided. He ate one of Joe’s burgers. Throughout band camp, the band got better and better. By the end of two weeks, it seemed as if they could already compete even though their competitions were weeks away. “To show your parents the progress that we have been making, Friday night we will go over what we have learned so far for them to see,” Mrs. Warren said. To add to the Halloween theme, the uniforms were monster costumes. Saxophones were zombies, the rest of the woodwinds were skeletons, the color guard were vampires, the percussion were ghosts, the low brass were Frankenstein’s monsters, and the high brass were werewolves. ऀ On Friday, hours before the show, Joe and Sam decided to hang out and practice with some of the people in their sections. They both were feeling very sick by the time the show was about to start. As everyone got into the locker room, they noticed that some of the tubas and saxophones were missing. “We can’t do the show with two of our best sections missing!” cried Shane the percussionist. Soon Shane found them and saw that the two sec-

The Black Box Continued from Page 8 ऀ“I cannot listen to this, Peter. Really, we are going to hear how our daughter went missing. What in this world could do this to a little girl…?” “We need to listen on. We both need closure...” ऀ*CLICK* I am about to begin the reading. You know what? I just noticed I don’t know why I am doing this. Honestly, I feel compelled to do all of this. I don’t even know how I found the box. I was

tions were in zombie costumes even though the tubas were supposed to be Frankenstein’s monsters. Not realizing that they actually were real zombies, Shane grabbed Sam’s arm to hurry him to the field. Sam’s arm fell off, and Shane realized why everyone looked like zombies. But it was too late. Sam chomped into Shane’s wrist. Over at the field, almost everyone was ready at opening set. The rest of the band finally showed up, but over half had the wrong costume. “Oh my gosh!” Mrs. Warren shouted. “You guys still aren’t in costume?! There is no time left for you to change, so I guess we’ll have more zombies than I planned for.” ऀ“Wow, Joe! That is really cool zombie makeup!” exclaimed Joanie, a piccolo player. ऀWhat was left of Joe attacked the poor, innocent girl and bit off her ear. ऀ“Joe! That isn’t a part of the show! What are you doing out there!?” asked the confused band director. ऀJoe replied with a terrifying roar that made the remaining non-zombie members realize the situation that they were in. ऀPandemonium broke out among the band. Some tried to fight while others ran for their lives. Thinking quickly, Mrs. Warren grabbed one of the swords the color guard twirled and tossed as part of the show. She showed the color guard how to remove the hard, protective case to reveal real swords. With props, flags, and swords in hand, the color guard faced the zombie horde and won. ऀHours later, after answering questions from the police, Mrs. Warren sat in her car. She turned on the radio. ऀ“…And so the government shutdown continues. The shutdown is being blamed for an outbreak of mad cow disease due to the lack of food safety inspectors. This is a new strain of mad cow. The virus has mutated and the victims turn into zombies. In local news, a zombie horde attacked a high school marching band at the beginning of a performance. The zombies were killed by members of the band.” ऀMs. Warren slumped over and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. “I had such high hopes for the band this year. We’ve already done better than the last ten bands that I’ve led. Now half of my band is dead and the others are too traumatized to go on…. Oh well, I guess there is always next year.”

outside and went into the shed and on the top shelf in the back was a black box. It was the first thing I saw when I walked in. It seemed to be calling my name. Now I feel like I need to. Well here it goes... Ab infima pessimus daemon infernum vocat. Et possidere potest venire ad me ánimam meam moriemini tu et prosperabitur. Fero ego moriar sine anima. Si mihi puerum mecum ut immolem Bron tuo magno prius omne sui. NO! NO! NO! PLEASE DON’T! I DIDN’T KNOW! I TAKE IT BACK! NO NO! I WILL GIVE ANYTHING! STOP! NO I WILL NOT GO WITH YOU! I NEVER SWORE ON WHAT I SAID! STOP IT! I SAID STO-

*SILENCE* *CLICK* ऀ“What happened...? Peter I don’t understand. What about the flashlight? Is she… gone?” Maria asked Paul as she began to weep over her daughter. Maria had just heard what happened, and she knew all along. The same thing had happened to Sarah; the police just never found her. They said she was abducted and murdered. The culprit has never been found. Only fifteen years ago, Maria was given the box as a departing gift from Sarah. After Sarah died Danielle was given to Maria and Peter. She promised her first born’s soul to the devil as her defrayal to him.

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Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013 - Page 11

Scary Story By Erin Morrisey Children ran around the darkened streets, dragging their unwilling parents along. They shrieked with joy, gathering bags of candy. I sat in the park, watching as Halloween night unfolded around me, Smiling almost forlornly, I remembered how my father used to take me trick-or-treatingâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;before he died and left me alone, with only my Aunt to keep my company. The sound of rustling bushes jolted me from my moment of self-pity. A man ran out of the forest adjacent to the park, carrying a large object in his arms. He had his back to me, but I could tell that something was off about him. He sprinted off in the opposite direction, towards the playground. Only a minute after he left, I heard a scream. I dismissed it almost instantly. It was Halloween. Someone had obviously stumbled upon a haunted house. Almost immediately, after that thought crossed my mind, another blood-curdling scream was let loose from the street behind me. The screams seemed to trigger one another. Eventually, it seemed like the entire world was wailing. Car alarms were blaring. Children were crying. Somewhere down the street, I heard fire trucks and police sirens screeching. Shots were being fired. I curled into a ball, desperately trying to separate myself from the noise somehow. Almost as quickly as the noise started, it stopped. The sudden silence was eerie and deafening at the same time. It seemed like the entire world was patiently waiting for the next scene in this real-life movie to commence. In the quiet, I heard a little boyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s voice ring out, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Mom?â&#x20AC;? He continued saying it over and over, with increasing fear each

time. The way he said it tugged at my heart. It was so quiet, yet the word carried across the entire park. The boy sounded so confused and afraid. A newfound maternal nature surged into me. I ran towards the parkâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;towards the sound of the little boy. I found him, leaning over something half-hidden by the unkempt grass. A forgotten mask was lying next to him. I walked cautiously over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. His reaction was strange. He didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t jump, or seem surprised, or even become more afraid. He just looked up at me, blinking through long lashes, and pointed at the object below him. At first, I thought it was a Halloween decoration, maybe a fake corpse. Gruesome, yet, but at the moment it seemed better than a real one. He asked again, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Mom?â&#x20AC;? I gently moved the boy over and kneeled next to him, inspecting what was below him. Apparently, it was a woman, but she seemed to be alive. Her hair was bright red, like the boy standing almost protectively over her. Sticking out of her shoulder was a dart of some sort. She was slumped over, like she had suddenly had the strong urge to take a nap. The only conclusion I could come to was that the dart had stunned her, knocking her out. I looked around, noticing for the first time all of the other children, standing over their mothers and fathers. Each adult was lying face down in the grass, a red dart sticking out of his or her shoulder. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I wanted to be a doctor. I was eighteen years old. I could do this. I looked back down at the woman in front of me. Deciding not to think about it any longer, I took care of the most obvious problem first and yanked the dart out of her flesh. Continued on Page 13

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Scary Story Continued from Page 11 I tried to carefully turn the woman over so I could inspect her better, but my weak arms failed me, and the woman ended up in a strange pretzel-like position. I situated her so she was propped against a tree and leaned over her, listening to her breathing. Suddenly I heard the woman gasp. I flew back in surprise, almost knocking over her son. He took half a step back, eyes wide in astonishment. I saw the woman’s hands twitch, then her feet. Abruptly, her eyes snapped open. I had to bite back a yelp, reminding myself that I needed to be brave, for the sake of the children around me. I didn’t expect her to wake so suddenly. Calming myself didn’t do anything when I looked back at the woman. Her eyes were completely silver, and the place where her pupil should have been opened as if it were a camera shutter, revealing a blood-red pinprick of light. Her eyes were too realistic to be a costume. The woman sat up, seeming to be testing out her body, like it was a new experience for her to move. She looked at me, cocking her head, and made a strange whirring sound. The woman leaned over me, only an inch away from my face. She blinked once, twice, then straightened. She lifted her face to the sky and threw out her arms, “Come to me!” she whispered in a strange voice. It took me a second to figure out why her voice sounded so unusual: It was like like an old record; skipping and • Carpet • Ceramic Tile • Hardwood • Laminate • Vinyl • Natural Stone

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scratching over itself. Nevertheless, she repeated herself continuously, growing louder. My instincts took over, “Go,” I said to the boy standing next to me, “Run home right now and don’t look back.” The little boy did nothing. He stood firmly rooted in place, his face still frozen in shock. He seemed to by hyperventilating. I kneeled in front of the boy, putting my hands on his shoulders, “What’s your name?” I asked, trying to sound calmer than I felt. The maniacal woman behind me did nothing for my nerves. He didn’t respond, still staring at the strange thing his mother had become. I turned his face towards me and asked again, slowly, “What is your name?” The boy took a few seconds to answer, “Abram,” he said shakily. “Okay, Abram. My name is Lauren. I’m training to be a doctor right now.” That wasn’t a complete lie. I had spent a couple of days observing a mentor doctor at a hospital for an elective class once. I was planning on being a doctor someday, “I know you’re scared, but I’ll do everything I can to help your mom, alright? You have to trust me, though.” Abram nodded, but I wasn’t sure if he had absorbed anything I said. The adults in the park had begun waking up, which, understandably, distracted him. Each of them twitched and sat up in sync; as if it was a flash mob they had rehearsed a thousand times. They were a haphazard mess of monsters, only their eyes were more terrifying than any costume. Continued on Page 14

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Page 14- Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013

Scary Story Continued from Page 13 I ignored the movement behind me, too afraid to turn around and face the people and what they had become, “You trust me, don’t you?” I asked, then realized what a stupid question it was. Abram had only met me a few minutes ago, and his mother was extremely sick in a way he couldn’t hope to understand. I shook my head of the thought and continued, “You have to promise me that you’ll do exactly as I say. Promise me, Abram.” “I promise,” he murmured absently, barely loud enough for me to hear. I sighed, a little more at ease, “Good. Now run… Go!” Abram’s eyes widened in fear, the one person who seemed to be helping him was now telling him to run away. I gave him a push in the direction opposite of where all of the adults were milling around, as if they were lost. I continued repeating myself until he stumbled away. “Take everything one problem at a time, Lauren,” I said to myself, turning fearfully to stare at the woman who was standing patiently off to the side. She was poised with her back to me, watching the other adults wake up. While I was taking care of Abram, I had forgotten about the other kids watching over their parents. They had stayed eerily silent throughout all that had happened, but now they were scared. “Run!” I screamed at them, “It isn’t safe here! Go!” Maybe Abram hadn’t sensed the urgency in my voice like they had, or maybe these children were just more sensible, but the remaining kids in the park followed my instructions. They gravitated towards one another into a large huddle, then ran from their parents. I hadn’t really thought through my genius plan. I didn’t expect the parents to turn towards me. I remembered my psychology class from last year. My teacher had said, almost a joke, “There is not a single person that can do as much damage as an angry parent trying to protect their baby.” Despite their inhuman looks, they still seemed to be holding on to a sliver of their humanity. It was an instinct deeply rooted in them; parents would always protect their children. And I had just gotten in the way. I told their children to leave them, and I doubt they appreciated that. The adults in the park walked jerkily towards me, as if their joints were fused together with concrete. The two dozen or so parents surged forward, forming a neat, if not tight, ring around me. I cowered in the middle, trying desperately to find a way out, although my subconscious mind told me I wouldn’t find one. Suddenly the ring rippled, everyone was bowing and murmuring to themselves, “My lord,” or, “Master,” I noticed that each person had those strange eyes and that strange voice. Everything was wrong about this picture. I quickly forgot how worried I was about the people when the crowd parted and let through a tall man. I instantly recognized him as the man that I had seen run past me, right before the world started screaming. He sauntered over to me, wobbling on his legs like he was participating in his own earthquake. I forced myself to look in his eyes, trying to appear brave. I didn’t know much about what was going on, but I knew this man was the leader of the strange people surrounding me. My hands shook almost as badly as his legs. “Hello!” he shouted cheerfully, startling me. His green eyes

were wild, and his auburn hair stuck up like he had fallen asleep in a tree, “Aren’t my creatures beautiful?” he continued. I stared at him in a mixture of fear and shock, I finally managed, “Y-your creatures?” He nodded enthusiastically, like this was a good thing, “Combination of machine and human—I’m Steven Borges, by the way—Just perfected this formula last night! How old did you say you were? Amazing, aren’t they? My medicine fixes all the flaws in their systems, tears apart the very cells that cause disease and replaces them with what will soon be called Cy-Borges cells—came up with that name only this past year, isn’t it great?” I tried to take a step back, but collided with the ring of… cyborgs standing behind me. The man standing in front of me was sick. Maybe he had spent too much time in his lab, maybe he had injected the first of the ‘Cy-Borges’ cells into himself. Whatever it was, I was absolutely positive that he was certifiably insane. So instead of standing nervously and waiting for Steven to inject me with his special medicine, I did the one thing I knew how to do best: I spoke “How did you give all these people your… Cy-Borges cells?” He grinned manically, like the only thing on Earth that made him happy was to have someone ask him questions, “Simple injection!” he picked up the dart that I had pulled out of Abram’s mother, “Filled up all of my tranquilizer darts with Cy-Borges cells and fired ‘em at every adult I could find!” So the screams I heard earlier were just people getting hit with specially-made tranquilizer darts, and the gunshots I heard was Steven ‘curing’ everyone, I said to myself, then spoke aloud, “Is this the only group of people that were shot?” Steven chuckled happily, “No, no, no. Absolutely not. I’m generous! I shot every adult in Jefferson City! Now every adult is cured of every disease!” I struggled to comprehend this. No adult was human. They were all cyborgs, courtesy of Steven Borges. Although all I wanted to do was wring his neck, I didn’t think it would be safe with so many of his creatures around. I’d be dead in a matter of seconds. I swallowed nervously, “Why only the adults?” I asked shakily. He squealed like a little girl, which I found strange, “I’m so glad you asked! It’s another project I’m working on! I want to study children’s behavior. They’ve never had to survive without their parents. How will they adapt? Will they make a government? Will they appoint a leader? How will their personalities develop? Will they kill one another?” Steven’s grin grew with each question he asked. I asked the question whose answer I dreaded the most, “What are you going to do with your… creations, though?” He sighed happily, “I’m not sure yet! Just like Doctor Frankenstein! But my creatures are—Hey… you never answered my question,” he paused, his eerie grin replaced with an even more unnerving scowl, “How old are you?” he growled. His creatures seemed to sense his tension, because they leaned forward expectantly, making my prison grow even smaller. I stuttered, looking for an answer. He said that every adult was injected with his Cy-Borges cells. But I was eighteen. That officially made me an adult, “S-Sixteen.” “I don’t think you are!” he roared, suddenly looked extremely bloodthirsty, “Rebecca!” he screamed, gesturing for Abram’s mother to grab me, “Scan her!” Continued on Page 15

Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013 - Page 15

Scary Story Continued from Page 14 Rebecca forced her hands to my temples before I had a chance to move. A metallic sound rang through my head, almost as if a drill had suddenly appeared inside my brain, and was tearing apart my thoughts and memories. Suddenly, the sound stopped, and the pain in my head was reduced to a dull pounding. I collapsed to the ground as Rebecca marched over to Steven. “Lauren Goliath: Only child. Black hair, brown eyes. Average—“ Steven cut her off, waving his arms impatiently, “Yes, I can see that. But how old is she?” “Eighteen years, two months, thirteen days old, Master Borges,” she screeched, almost sounding annoyed. That is, if cyborgs could sound annoyed. I thought his head was going to explode, “You did not get my treatment! All adults will get the treatment! Even if you are unwilling! You will be cured!” Steven cried, stomping his foot like a little kid. So talking didn’t work, I told myself, Let’s see where running gets me. In only a few seconds, I was off. I flew past the cyborgs encircling me, the fear of being ‘cured’ giving me new strength and speed. I ran for blocks, imagining the rhythmic sound of the cyborgs chasing after me, the crazed voice of their creator only a step behind me. I ran until I couldn’t feel my legs, then I threw open the door to the nearest house and fell inside.

I was breathing heavily, barely aware of where I was. I locked the door behind me and began closing all of the curtains in the living room before I noticed a presence behind me. The floor creaked as the person took a step forward. “Did you help my mom?” a boy asked. I turned to find the familiar face of Abram. I collapsed into a chair as silent tears began to roll down my cheeks. I shook my head, trying to make my voice work, “No,” I finally croaked, “No, Abram. It seems your mom is gone.” Of course, I didn’t know that for sure. The adults in the park had shown a sliver of humanity when I told their children to run away from them. I couldn’t give Abram false hope. I didn’t know if it was possible for me to bring his mother back. I didn’t know if I was possible for me to bring any of the adults back. I told myself that I would try to figure out a way to cure the adults, but that meant I would have to study them. Which also meant I would have to go near them, which, in turn, increased the possibility of me being turned into a cyborg. Besides, it was common knowledge that a disease could be created easily. But a cure? That was way beyond me. I saw Abram’s lip tremble, and he began crying, too. The only thing I understood from him was, “Who’s going to take me to the park?” This, of course, only made me sob more. I picked Abram up and hugged him. I promised him that someday, I would take him to the park. That night, Abram and I cried ourselves to sleep in the chair in his living room, wondering why in the world this terrible event had to happen to us.

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Page 16- Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013

Drip By Caroline Kaminsky ऀDrip. Drip. Drip. ऀI hate that noise. I hate it with all my heart. It’s impossible to do anything with that noise in my room. How am I supposed to do my homework or actually get my recommended eight hours? I swear, that dripping sound has been the subject of my nightmares. How long has there been a leak? About a week now? I’ve lost count of the days; I feel like that systematic drip of the water hitting the bucket has haunted me forever. ऀDrip. Drip. Drip. Ding-dong. ऀI race to the door. Finally, the repairman has arrived. My mom comes from behind me, opens the door, and greets the man. The first thing I notice is his 70’s mustache. The second thing I notice is that he looks very creepy. He has his hair slicked back and he gives my mom a weird smile when he shakes her hand. I can’t help but notice the dangerous, sharp tools in his toolbox. He’s just fixing a leak, so why does he need all of those? ऀ“So, where’s the leak?” he asks, never taking his eyes off my mother. His voice has an odd ring to it. ऀMy mom leads him upstairs to my room and points out the leak.

The Messages By Rebecca Lynn "Clean up on aisle 5," a nasally voice called out over the intercom at my local Wal-Mart. I continued to shop and gather my items easily due to the fact there were only about ten customers in the whole store. It was Friday the 13th and I undoubtedly assumed that many people were sitting on the floor of their living rooms, afraid to venture outside. In fact, this morning a sleek, black cat walked across the street my house was on, and I swear my neighbor almost fainted. I laughed at their superstitions. It was such nonsense to believe that certain things could cause bad luck or summon spirits. I had always believed those sorts of things were stupid. Those things did not exist. I was not going to believe in "spirits" or "demons" until I saw one, and I probably still wouldn’t believe then. After I had picked up all of my items, I headed towards the checkout. No line, as expected on Friday the 13th. I began laying my things on the counter and the young man checking me out hesitated but began to scan and bag my items. He moved very slowly, almost as if he didn’t know what he was doing. I had never seen him working here before, so I figured he was a new guy. When he was finished, I whipped out my wallet and paid with cash. He looked up at me, his glowing orange and coppery eyes piercing my soul. "Phone number please," he said in a quiet voice. I struck him a confused look. They had never asked me for my phone number before. "For discounts," he added, his jagged teeth showing. I was still leery, but I recited my home phone number and pushed my cart out to the parking lot. As I started to pass through the automatic sliding doors, I realized I had left my wallet on the counter. I ran back and grabbed it. I looked up to scowl at the young man who had checked me out that didn’t warn me of forgetting my money. That’s when I noticed that the skinny, shiny-skinned, and coppery eyed young man with jagged teeth had been replaced with a plump, acne-prone, brown-eyed man who seemed to look like a less glamorous version of the jagged tooth boy. I shook my head and

She hands him a stool and he begins. I leave with my mom because there’s no way I’m staying alone in a room with that guy, especially not with my dad and my brother away from the house. ऀI wait downstairs anxiously for the man to finish. Ten minutes go by, then twenty. This is taking too long. I’m tired and I want to go to bed early tonight. ऀSuddenly, it starts to rain. It picks up and I can hear the loud thunder and the strong winds blowing against the windows. Just great. The one night my leak finally gets fixed I can’t sleep because there’s a storm. ऀThe lights go out. It’s so dark that I can’t see anything. ऀ“Mom!” I call. No response. I repeat myself, but still no response comes. ऀ“I’m over here,” my mom says at last. I utter a sigh of relief. “I’m going to go check on the repairman.” She walks up the stairs. I hear her open my bedroom door and walk in. ऀI hear someone running and something thuds to the ground. My heart races. What do I do, what do I do? Without thinking I grope around for a candle. I find one next to some matches and run up the stairs. Once I get to the top I stop and listen. ऀDrip. Drip. Drip. ऀI burst through the door and light the match to the candle. My eyes widen with disbelief as I see the repairman’s body hanging from a hole in the ceiling, dripping blood into the bucket. continued out to the parking lot, pushing my cart to my car. I sat in my car and breathed deeply. I had to admit, I was a little spooked, but more likely I was just confused. I pulled out of the lot and started on the short drive home. I got the chills multiple times, and I had broken out into a sweat. I didn’t understand. I wasn’t scared, I just felt...weird. I turned on the radio to calm my mind. SSSSSSSSSSS. A loud hiss filled the air. I tried to change the station, but the hiss was on every one. I turned off the radio, and luckily, I was home. I ran into my house, forgetting about the items in my car. I locked the door behind me, suddenly feeling like I was not alone. My phone operator was blinking in the corner of my eye. I clicked the play button and sat down on my couch. "Six hundred sixty-six new messages. BEEEEEEP." The room was filled with heavy breathing. I shook in my boots. Whoever was on the other end of the line was breathing extremely heavy. It sounded as if they had meant for me to hear them breathing. "BEEEEEEP. NO! NO, PLEASE, NO! STOP PLEASE," which was followed by bloodcurdling screams, the sounds of ultimate terror. One after one, screams were heard in each message, until message 50 when a new sound emerged. I dropped to the floor when I heard the sound of burning human flesh. "BEEEEEEP. PLEASE, I'LL DO ANYTHING! NO-", "BEEEEEEP. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? PLEASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME. PLEA-", "BEEEEEEP. ARRRRGGG! UGGGHH! AHHH! NO, ARGGGG." They continued to scream, but the once highpitched voices had turned to those of giant monsters. I sat on the floor of my living room with knees tucked to my chest. I was shaking an extreme amount at this point. I had never been as scared as I was in that moment. The burning flesh continued and the noise grew louder with each message. At some point, the lights went out and the room was pitch black. I kept shivering and crying. I had no idea what to do; it was like I was paralyzed. Suddenly, an orange, coppery glow filled the room as I felt a large hand on my shoulder. I froze. My tongue went silent and I choked on the lump in my throat. I stopped shaking as I felt a warm breath hit my neck making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The last message beeped: "You're next."

Whistling a Small Tune By Jade Weber ऀAs the little girl rides her bike down her street, the cold fall air crisp on her face, and the fallen leaves crunching under her bike, she sings a tune “la-di-da-la-la-la.” She makes her way up to the end of the street. She thought she was alone, but oh how wrong she was. As she sings the tune once more, she hears a voice sing it back. She stops her bike and listens again. The little girl whistles once more. She didn’t hear a thing. ‘It’s just my imagination,’ she says in her head, ‘It’s just my imagination.’ Later that evening, the little girl didn’t return home from her bike ride. Her parents called for her all night, and by the time midnight fell, they called the police in to search for a missing child. The police assured her nothing was wrong, and everything was all right. The next night, the little girl’s neighbor is walking home from school. Crunching through the leaves, and breathing in the cold fall air, the boy whistles a tune “bum-da-di-bum-da-di.” As he reaches his house, he hears a voice repeat his tune. The boy stops and whistles again. He doesn’t hear a thing. He tells himself it’s just his imagination and moves on. The next night the boy goes missing. The police are now hysterical. Two children have gone miss-

The House By Michael Glisson No one knew who lived there. It looked overgrown, almost abandoned. The long driveway at the end of the street made the house very hidden behind the leafless trees. With the combination of the dead trees, holes in the roof, a broken window, and shaggy grass, the house was suspect to many rumors. I guess I should introduce myself first. My name is Gary Howling, I am currently 32 years old, and this is my account of when I was 12 years old during the fall of 1993. What follows is so horrible it must not be spoken of ever again; that is why I am writing it. My 20-year vow of silence is now over, and this is my first time telling the story. It was during Thanksgiving break when things started to go wrong. First it was the child next-door, Chad, who went missing, then Manny, then Missy. Another victim was being taken every day, and the police could do nothing. No one knew where the people went, but they had a good idea. The missing count was up to nine people that afternoon. I was playing with Kyle on the street when we heard a bloodcurdling scream come from the house. I froze. There was no way I was going to turn around and look. But I just had to; Kyle and I agreed to turn around on the count of three. One-Two-Three. Nothing. It was as if nothing happened. We went on the rest of the day normally, agreeing not to speak of it. The next day, I went to play with Kyle again. We were playing keep-the-ball-in-the-air when we heard it again. SCREECH! We looked at each other, and then ran and ran and ran as far as we could away from the house. But Kyle just had to play detective and investigate. We walked back cautiously. When we got to the yard, I got chills. It felt like I just stepped into a fridge as I felt the temperature drop.

Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013 - Page 17 ing in the span of three days, both from the same street. The police chief issues a town alert, saying that any suspicious activity will be taken into consideration. Days pass. No more children go missing. But the next night the same thing happens. Another boy who lives on the same street goes missing riding his scooter home from his friend’s house. Witnesses claim that the boy was whistling a small tune. The police dismiss this fact as not-related. That next morning, an intern on the police squad is working on the street that the disappearances occurred. He notices something in the corner of his eye and follows a shadow into the parking lot of the local supermarket. He quietly tiptoes behind a fence and watches through a peephole as a manly figure heaves a trash bag into his truck. The man in black then disappears across the parking lot. The young intern decides to examine the trash bag in the back of the truck. He walks up to it and peers into it. He is overwhelmed by the stench of death. He calls over to the police chief back at the crime scene to come take a look at the truck. But all he hears is a voice saying the same thing he just said. He says it again but nothing came back. He tells himself it’s his imagination and begins to walk back toward the police chief. But as he rounds the corner, he is snatched by two hands at his neck. He struggles but it’s no use. The man is too strong. He is dragged against his will to inside the truck he just peered inside. As the door slammed behind him and he looked up, he saw a black manly figure with a knife in his left hand. We were walking up to the porch when BOOM! The door swung open and a musty smell hit us in the face. When we walked into the house the door slammed behind us and locked. In the pitch black we tried effortlessly to get out, but the door would no longer budge. We screamed for help for what seemed like days but could have been no longer than a few hours. We did what we had to do to and tried to find another way out. THUMP! Kyle hit the floor. He tripped over the head of James Kanys, the neighborhood bully. The longer we were in there, the more body parts we found. Blood covered the floor. Doors were flying open and shut. BANG! SCREECH! BANG! SCREECH! These noises went on all around us. I tripped in all the confusion. By that point, I had lost all my bearings. Kyle was gone; I would never see him again and I would never find out what happened to him. I ran and jumped out of the broken window that I had forgotten about. Something grabbed me mid-jump and threw me against the wall. I crawled backward into a corner and waited. I knew I was done. By this point I was accepting my death and just waiting for how it would happen. My mind was racing; I knew I was being toyed with because my life was in something/someone else’s hand. Silence. Complete silence. Then a quiet creak, creak, down the main stairwell. It was coming for me. I made another run for it out the window, I had to. I made it outside! I did it! There were cop cars all around, but I could not move. I had collapsed on the grass. But I was safe. Apparently, Kyle’s mother had called the cops when she could not find her son. Kyle and the other nine people were never heard from again. The cops found no evidence of anything in the house, but I know what I saw. There were some gruesome facts I had to leave out and other things I have forgotten over the years. To this day, no one has ever seen or heard from any victim. No evidence has ever been found. The killer, whatever it may be, is still out there, hiding, lurking, looking for its next victim.

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That House By Ashlin West Have you ever looked at your neighbor and wondered what went on behind their closed doors? Well I have and here is my story………. I live in a residential subdivision where people are friendly; kids running out in the street, Flashlight Tag and Capture the Flag games, neighbors honking and waving, etc. It’s especially fun when all of the neighbors get together on Halloween eve. Everyone hangs out around a bonfire, and the kids walk house to house and take candy from bowls that the neighbors leave on their doorstep. Every year, though, there is one house that is completely dark with no candy. The dark house is known as, “That House.” All the big kids in the neighborhood always want to ring “That House’s” doorbell anyway, but, they end up chickening out. That is until one year when the leader of the big kids, JoJo felt brave. JoJo and his pack of 3 followers marched right up to “That House’s” door and rang the doorbell. Of course, there was no answer; so with JoJo feeling mighty, he rang it again. This time he peeked into the house and saw a quick glimpse of a black shadow. “What in the world?” he thought. Then as he looked back in the window he saw a black bag that appeared to be holding a body! JoJo reached for the handle of the door when

I Dare You By Jasmyn Kloster One week until Halloween. One week until every boy and every girl will get dressed up as their favorite character or favorite... well pretty much favorite anything. Charlie only had one week to decide what he wanted to be. He loved doctors, so maybe he could be a doctor. He also loved vampires, so maybe he could be a vampire. Or maybe he could combine the two and become a vampire doctor. He thought and thought and finally decided to be a doctor. Three days left until it was time to trick-or-treat and Charlie was definitely ready. He had his costume on, and he had found a group of school friends to go with. He even asked his mom to suggest the best neighborhoods to trick or treat. He was so excited for Halloween to come, he thought he might explode. One night left until it was time, and Charlie really was about to explode. He had the stomach flu and was not feeling very good. Charlie was so sad that he wasn't going to be able to go get candy with all of his friends. He was lying in his room the day of Halloween, trying to make himself feel better, and he fell asleep. In his dreams Charlie could see a light. He was wondering what it was, so he decided to walk towards it. The light got so bright eventually Charlie had to turn away. He saw a long staircase. He heard a scream, then suddenly he woke up. He found himself feeling all better. He decided he could go trick-or-treating. All of his friends came over, and they set out for a night of fun and candy. After about an hour, they saw a house with all of the lights off. The other boys in Charlie's group dared him to go knock on the door and run. He did not want to be called a chicken, so he started up to the house. As he made his way up the porch stairs to the door bell, the door opened. Charlie couldn't believe what he saw. It was the light from his dream.

suddenly the door flew open. “Can I help you?” asked a beautiful young lady. She seemed so……….normal……… but, what about the shadow and the bag? Something here is definitely fishy, JoJo thought. The young lady invited all of them into the house. JoJo, looking at the others, whispered, “Come on, let’s go,” but the beautiful lady insisted they come in. “My goodness, it’s Halloween, let me at least get you some candy, kids!” she said, opening the door wider. “OK,” replied Jojo, and they walked in. No sooner than the door closed behind them then the beautiful lady peeled off her mask, showing her true appearance, a witch! She began to cast a spell “To the window, To the wall, Turn them into Critters that crawl!” Poof! Immediately JoJo and his pack turned into creepy, crawly, hairy spiders! The witch cackled loudly and put the “spiders” into the black bag. “Marley, wake up! You overslept again! I told you if you ate all that candy last night you would have a hard time getting up in the morning!” Mom hollered. Halloween in my subdivision was always a late night. I woke up, threw on my jeans and saw something out of the corner of my eye. What? A spider! A creepy, crawly, hairy spider was in my bed……… and then as my mom and I drove to school I saw “That House,” and I wondered………

Charlie became mesmerized by the light and didn't even realize he was walking towards it. His friends were yelling for him to stop walking. All the sound was blocked out, so he continued on. As he ventured through the house, the light was growing bigger and brighter. The door slammed shut behind him and the light suddenly vanished. Charlie then realized where he was and ran back to the door. It wouldn't open. Charlie screamed and screamed for someone to help. No one answered. He decided to have a look around. Slowly and quietly he headed up the stairs. He made it up the stairs, and in front of him was a long hallway with four doors. He heard a creaking from one of the rooms then a horrifying scream. He quickly ran down the stairs but the screaming was getting louder and louder. Also the creaking was getting closer and closer. Charlie was locked in. The only thing he could do was try to hide. The house was completely empty besides a fireplace that was all boarded up. Charlie ran to it and found a loose board. He climbed in and closed it up. Suddenly, all the noises stopped. He waited a moment then slowly moved the board so a tiny crack was opened, just big enough so he could see out of it. At that exact time an eye shot to the crack and made Charlie shriek. It was completely white except for the pupil which was a deep red. The screaming from this creature continued as did the screaming from Charlie. A hand darted through the crack and grabbed Charlie. The creature dragged him up the stairs and into a room. Charlie was thrown against the wall and the creature began to grow. It grew and grew until it was the size of a school bus standing on its back wheels. With one bite the creature picked up the shrieking Charlie and dropped him in his mouth. As the blood dripped from the creatures’ mouth the sun started to leak through the curtain. The creature shrank and went back to the room he was in and was ready to sleep until the next Halloween came around. This is why you should never dare your friends to knock on a door with the lights off. They may never return.

Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013 - Page 19

A Trip to the Store By Emma Lipe The whispering leaves of autumn crunched beneath Mildredâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s feet as she walked to the store, fetching eggs for her mother. The crisp air stuck loose stands to her glossy lips; â&#x20AC;&#x153;Gone,â&#x20AC;? the lip color was called. It was her favorite. ŕ¤&#x20AC;The store was nearly empty, the faint scent of mold and moisture hanging in the air. She headed to aisle three, where she knew the eggs would be, and picked six cartons. Mildred began to wander around the dreary store; she had time to kill. Near the back, a tall, thin, skeleton-like man stood. He had glasses that no one had been seen in since the 70â&#x20AC;&#x2122;s. He was around 35, she guessed. Although his expression held blank, his eyes were those that had seen unspeakable horrors. It was rather peculiar. Sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d never seen this man before. In a town of only 115 people, few were strangers. Mildred began to feel uneasy. She headed up to the checkout line. ŕ¤&#x20AC;â&#x20AC;&#x153;Will this be all for you?â&#x20AC;? the cashier asked. ŕ¤&#x20AC;â&#x20AC;&#x153;Yes, thank you,â&#x20AC;? Mildred replied. ŕ¤&#x20AC;â&#x20AC;&#x153;Your total is $6.60.â&#x20AC;? ŕ¤&#x20AC;â&#x20AC;&#x153;Gus,â&#x20AC;? the awkward employeeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s nametag read. She accepted her change and scurried to the door. She left in a hurry, eager to escape its standoffishness. ŕ¤&#x20AC;Something about that man. He wore a large coat as if to hide something underneath. His hands werenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t coming out of the sleeves, but rather tucked inside his coatâ&#x20AC;Ś â&#x20AC;&#x153;Never mind it,â&#x20AC;? she told herself, glancing down to notice her watch read â&#x20AC;&#x153;7:04.â&#x20AC;? Her mother would be wondering what was holding her. She set off with a brisk pace down Mortsol Street. ŕ¤&#x20AC;Storm clouds rolled overhead, and the wind picked up, whip-

ping her hair and scarf in a cascade of twirls and loops. The sky had darkened in the short time Mildred had been to the store; had it been short? She wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t sure. ŕ¤&#x20AC;By the time she reached her home, the sky had turned pitch black. Her mother had been called back to the insane asylum where she worked, and didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know when she would return, a note on the fridge told Mildred. She hated the insane hours her mom had to spend in that creep-building. Its monochrome rooms contained some of the most twisted people in the country. ŕ¤&#x20AC;Mildred was exhausted. She set the eggs on the counter and ran a shower for herself. ŕ¤&#x20AC;â&#x20AC;&#x153;Freezing,â&#x20AC;? she thought. The water was never warm. She hesitantly climbed in. ŕ¤&#x20AC;Twenty minutes later, she was in her nightgown and climbed into bed. She hated going to sleep when her mother wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t home. Mildred lay awake for hours, tossing and turning, turning and tossing. Finally, she dozed off for about an hour, before something woke her: a noise, coming from the window, as if someone were trying to open it from the outside. ŕ¤&#x20AC;â&#x20AC;&#x153;Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s just an animal,â&#x20AC;? she told herself, but just in case, she got up to lock it. ŕ¤&#x20AC;Something wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t right. She peeked out the window into the night. There, an ill grin and mad eyes, magnified by glasses, stared back. Her heart skipped a beat, and she screamed, running for the door. Mildred never made it; something tripped her. It was her motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s lifeless body, twisted in such an unnatural way. Her neck appeared to be broken in multiple places, bones jutting out at every angle. The head had been shaved, and her body stuffed into a straight jacket. Mildred then noticed the words on the wall. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Jeffrey Dahmerâ&#x20AC;? written in blood, her motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s blood. She screamed as an iron grip snatched Mildredâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s head and slammed it into the wall. The lights went out.

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Page 20- Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013

No School By Elaine Myers On Saturday, October 14, 2011 Nancy Sanders, a local news reporter, stood outside the crime scene. “While our High School battled on the football field, spirits were battling beneath.” The events that had taken place on the local high school football field the night before would never be forgotten by the small village. The football game against the neighboring town started out eventful but would never be finished. The field was ghostly, and the viewers did not understand what had gone on the night before, and neither did the fans that were there. “Ugh, Jen don’t be so superstitious!” whined Lucy, the captain of the dance team in Watersville. It was Friday the 13th of October, and everyone was riled up for the homecoming football game that was to take place that night. Jen, a new member of the dance team, was sitting at lunch with some of her friends. They were all pumped about getting the chance to dance at the homecoming football game that night. Although the school was in high spirits, no one could shake the lurking feeling that it was Friday, October 13th - the most cursed day of the year. During the day, a few strange occurrences took place. At the start of first hour, the announcements came on with static and there was a gruff moan. No more announcements were said after that. At the very end of third hour, an unscheduled fire alarm occurred. After everything had been checked, the principal tried to get back in the building, but he was locked out. The fire department broke the window to let the principal back in the school. The day went on with a few strange “accidents,” as most called them, but most teachers did not get through to their students because everyone was focused on homecoming. During Jen and Lucy’s last hour, the lights flickered on and off for two minutes. By this time, Jen couldn’t believe that no one else had been spooked by the strange events of that day. She decided to go home and take a refreshing nap before the game began. When Jen entered her house, no one was home. This was unusual because her grandma was always at home to greet her after school. Jen’s grandma had lived with her family for 20 years ever since her grandpa had died on Friday, October 13, 1991. Jen called her grandma and the phone rang four times. It went to voicemail, and Jen left her a message. Then she realized her grandma was probably visiting her grandpa’s grave site. As she walked around the house, it felt eerily quiet, so the young girl cranked up some Beyoncé and made herself a snack. Then Jen took a short power nap to energize herself for that night’s game. About a half hour before Jen had to leave for the game, her parents and grandma came home. The family changed for the game, and left to cheer Jen on. When Jen arrived, the dance team was warming up. After warm-ups, they went over the Halloween dance

to be showcased that night. Jen and Lucy did their pregame ritual, never realizing that this might be the last time they would see each other ever again. It was half-time, and there was a slight breeze in the cool October air. Jen pumped her arms as she ran onto the field. As they took the choreographed positions, the ground felt mushy under their feet. The crowd was silent, and the girls were frozen in position. At this moment, Jen remembered how this football field came to be. It was legend that the field was an ancient burial ground. Of course the rumors weren’t true, but Jen could not help thinking they were factual. In mere seconds, the music started, and the team began to dance. Thriller by Michael Jackson blared in Jen’s ears. The coach had put together a Thriller mix for the team to dance to in honor of Friday the 13th and the upcoming Halloween holiday. Jen transformed into her dance mode and began performing moves that the legendary Michael Jackson once had danced. Suddenly the ground began to shake under the team’s feet. They had trouble balancing on the ground but pushed on, not wanting to disappoint the fans. Then out of nowhere, Jen saw the ghost of her grandpa. When she saw ghosts and zombies rising out of the ground, she immediately stopped dancing. It was almost like the dance team had fallen into the Thriller video. The crowd roared with excitement, assuming that this was all part of the dance. The rest of the team was as petrified as Jen and instantly stopped their routine. They tried to exit the field, but the spirits and zombies became angry. The monsters restrained the girls and pulled them onto the field. The girls were screaming, and the crowd also became aware of the tragedy that was happening before them. Police ran onto the field. Some were eaten by the zombies while others were scared off by the ghosts. By this time the dance team had been grouped together and tied up by the zombies. Slowly the crowd watched as the girls were lowered into the ancient burial ground. They screamed and hollered, but no one could save them from this atrocious situation. Finally when the girls were gone and the zombies and ghosts could no longer be seen, pandemonium broke out. Parents, students, the police, and school officials were in a panic. Everyone ran away from the football field as fast as their legs would take them, and they never looked back. According to Nancy Sanders’ report, “Yesterday evening the dance team was kidnapped by ghosts and zombies. The FBI and the local SWAT team have been called in to investigate the crime scene. It is quite peculiar and tragic at the same time. The football field is being dug up as we speak, but the authorities cannot seem to locate the girls. Wait, I am getting new information. The girls have been found! The dance team is stranded on the other side of the country where a truck driver found them at about 5 this morning our time. The team is mumbling in ancient languages and totally delirious.” That is why there is no school in Watersville on any Friday the 13th.

Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013 - Page 21

The Kiss of Death By Madelyn Foster ऀ“Move it a bit to the left, right there in between the big head stones,” I yelled at the Rent-Tent-Tent workers. Tonight had to be absolutely wonderful! I could not wait for the sun to go down so my epic Halloween party could begin. The venue could not be anymore perfect. Having it at an old cemetery made it doubly creepy and doubly awesome. After another half-hour, I left my party in the hands of the decorators and headed to my house to get ready. ऀThis year I was going as a black cat. I put on my make-up and my whiskers and was just starting to heat up my curling iron when the doorbell rang. My mom answered it and I heard my friends Lily and Selena coming up the stairs to my room. They burst in all full of energy, but I just focused on my hair. I had to look gorgeous because my serious crush since sophomore year, Nate, was coming. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. ऀFinally, when I was done primping, my friends and I drove over to Raughtinghem Hill for my party. It looked awesome! The music was jamming and the décor was really rocking. After what felt like forever, guests started coming in their costumes. Everyone looked really neat. Nate showed up fashionably late and he was so, so, so with a different girl. To make matters worse, she was pretty, too, with perfect hair to match her perfectly pleated poodle skirt costume. “Carly!” Nate yelled as he ran up to me with his new date by his side. “Hey, awesome party!” he said “Thanks,” I said curtly. I turned the girl and gave her a stare "And you are…?” I asked coldly. “Bonnie.” She smiled. “Who are you talking to, Carls?” Nate asked me. “Bonnie…?” I responded quizzically. “Okay…” he said. “See you around…” he said before walking off with Bonnie following closely behind him. I could not believe that he had the nerve to bring another girl to MY party! I wished I could just kick him out! However, as I was searching to find Lily and Selena to vent, I ran into a handsome stranger in a costume with a 1950’s vibe complete with the greased, jet-black hair. He was totally adorable. I decided that I would spend the evening with him to make Nate jealous. ऀIt turned out that the guy’s name was Charles and he went to my school but I did not recognize any of his teacher ’s names. About halfway through the night, when Charlie and I were dancing, I noticed that Nate was looking at me, so I quickly leaned in and kissed Charlie. Suddenly the music cut and a freezing breeze gusted through the tent we were under. I felt someone behind me and turned to face the dark eyes of Nate’s “friend” Bonnie. ऀ“What do you think you are doing?” She snapped. “ I, I was just… “ I sputtered. “Kissing my boyfriend?” she retorted. “Your boyfriend? I thought you were here with Nate!” I exclaimed. “Here with me, I don’t even know her!” Nate burst from across the room as he ran over.

“Charles is mine!” Bonnie yelled before rearing back and slapping me in the face really hard. I was in such shock I could not respond. Nate quickly grabbed for her to pull her back, but his hands were met with nothing. I began to panic and started to back away only to run into, or should I say through, Charlie who was standing behind me. He looked at me in despair and went to meet Bonnie’s lashes. He was able to grab hold of her and whisper something in her ear. She seemed to calm down a bit, but she looked at me with a stare of pure ice before running out into the night and disappearing. Charlie only looked back at me silently before running after Bonnie. Everyone around me gaped in disbelief Thankfully Selena spoke up, “Well guys, how about that cool trick? Wasn’t it a treat? Huh, huh? Anybody? Okay no. DJ, blast it” Everyone clapped haphazardly and went back to dancing. “What was that supposed to be?” Selena hissed. “I’m going to go and get an aspirin from my car…” I said as I walked off. I thought maybe someone had spiked the punch bowl or something. I was almost to my car when I heard footsteps nearing me… “Hey! How crazy was that?” I heard Nate say as he ran to catch up with me. “I do not even want to think about it.” I said. “We don’t have to talk and you know I would never bring another girl around Carls, because, well, I like you.” Nate said. He moved in closer to me and began to kiss me. Then, suddenly, my car ’s headlights went on. I looked down at my keys to see what I had pressed when I felt the same feeling I had when Bonnie was behind me in the tent. I turned slowly and looked into my car and was greeted by Bonnie’s menacing smile in my driver ’s seat with Charles, sitting next to her, seemingly bleeding from his chest and looking quite beat up. I heard the gas on my car start and I gripped Nate’s hand. There was a sound, a blinding pain throughout my body, and then everything went dark. ऀYears later, Lily, Carly’s friend was digging through her basement when she found a newspaper article about the night her good friend Carly and her crush, Nate, had died. She had kept it all of these years and read it many times just trying to wrap her head around it. It read, “Last night, seventeen-year-old Carly Shelts and eighteen-year-old Nate Bryce were killed on Raughtingham Hill. ‘They suffered severe bodily injuries due to obvious contact with a motor vehicle.’ The Coroner stated upon studying the remains. Both Shelts and Bryce were bleeding from a cut in their chests carved like a candy kiss, indicating premeditated murder. This was ironically very similar to the death faced by Charles Kremar found with a candy kiss cut in his chest said to be ‘the kiss of death’ accompanied with severe bodily injuries also guessed to be caused by motor vehicle contact in 1951 on Raughtinham Hill. He was last seen with his girlfriend Bonnie Woods who was his suspected killer. Police are scanning the area for any remains of evidence and ask any persons with any information regarding this tragedy contact the police department immediately.”

s t a e r T lA l Tricks o N at

Page 22- Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013

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You're Next By Maha Rizvi Sometimes, people feel uncomfortable. No, not just uncomfortable. They feel extremely uncomfortable. It's almost like a short wave rippling toward your direction when you least expect it. You may start to shake a little or perhaps question what started it. You look around to see if anyone is observing you from any distance. You get the feeling you are being watched. If anyone is looking at you, they usually look away in time. That leaves you in a state of bewildered thoughts and crazy ideas. You tend to shake off the feeling and any stupid thoughts. You may think you are just being silly. Then, you continue with your life, forgetting about the feeling. That is, until it creeps up on you again. The cycle continues...until it ends. Wondering who I am? That is something no one knows and will ever know. I know everything about everyone. I am easily hidden in the dark shadows. I always know what's happening and when. Ah, it is difficult to explain, my dears. No one ever understands. Even when they do or even start to... it is too late. Diana Rose was an ordinary girl. She was a junior in high school, ready to get out of town soon and live her dream. Diana was staying after school for field hockey practice. She was strolling through the hall full of sweaty football players and wrestlers, trying to get through to go to the girls locker room. By the time she reached the locker room, she assumed she was late because it was empty. Diana rushed to her gym locker, her hands shaking to open her lock quickly. She must have made a mistake because it did not open the first time. She tried opening it again, and a third time. She released a quick annoyed breath. “Why today of all days? Coach is going to be so mad,” Diana said aloud to herself. Finally, she got her lock to open and quickly changed into her practice clothes. Suddenly, there was a loud clang of a locker banging shut. Diana, startled, spun around while hopping on one foot trying to get a shinguard on. The locker was slightly shaking but no sign of the person who shut it was near. “Hello? Anyone there?” she nervously asked the room. The room replied with a loud silence, the faint echo of the locker clanging was in the air. There it was. The ripple of uncomfortable feelings washed over Diana. She started to think who exactly shut that locker if no one was in the locker room. Was she going crazy? Did it really even happen? Diana tied her shoelaces tight and was about to head out the doors. Bang! That was definitely a locker banging shut. Diana raced to the rows of lockers. No one was there. Not a single person was in sight. Diana's heart thudded with fear. She sat on a locker bench and doubled over, a sickening feeling coming over her. Out of nowhere, her

Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013 - Page 23 throat began to tighten little by little, until she thought she could not take a last gasp for air. Her whole body was in a cold sweat. Her face was tomato red. Crazy thoughts swam in Diana's head. Was she dying? What the heck was going on? She started to cough and cough until a little blood started coming out with each cough and created a small red pool around her feet. Diana shut her eyes. Please be a dream, please be a dream she pleaded in her head. Then, she opened them. There were five figures in dark maroon hoods with demonic faces. It seemed as if they were grinning at her in mockery. Diana felt leathery fingers grip her neck, squeezing tighter and tighter. The first figure began to speak. First, he chuckled. “So you may be wondering where you are, what just happened, who we are, et cetera, et cetera, and we are here to tell you everything.” Diana was still not processing what was happening around her. She mumbled something unintelligible. “Sweetheart, relax. We are the Vugoti. Each one of us is a Vugot. We're cousins of the demons and ghouls but we kinda do our own thing. Anyway, we are everywhere. All around we lurk but you humans just cannot see us. So, it is our job to capture humans when they are alone using our senses and recreating them as one of us to strengthen and grow our race. Our goal is to wipe out all of humanity.” He hissed all these words coolly. Diana widened her eyes in fright, the leathery fingers around her neck tightened, and her voice made a shriveled and awful sound. She was gone. Diana was not human anymore. Diana was a Vugot. Her features transformed to be disgusting and repulsive. All of the Vugoti made a laughing gesture with their mouths. Diana was new. She had an evil thirst. Newborn Vugot feelings were uncontrollable. She fled out to her school, out on the grass where the field hockey team was practicing. She smiled to herself. All the girls she hated on the varsity team were about to suffer. Diana plunged into Melanie Jones, the snobbiest girl on the team. Melanie's eyeballs were pierced with sharp nails and she screamed a great bloodcurdling shriek. She began to bleed with black blood clots. The other girls began freaking out. “WHAT IS BLOODY HAPPENING?” yelled the coach. Melanie's skin turned pale, and her veins popped through, all green and gross. Everyone ran from the scene. Melanie's lifeless body transformed into a Vugot. She and Diana went on to terrorize more people. Soon enough, the entire town was gone and part of the Vugoti. The town itself was dark and barren and almost completely nothing. There were so many awful events, especially seeing half the town burning in thick flames and poor children running for their lives. So now you know what really causes the beginning feeling of uncomfort and what terrible things happen from it. It's a shame this all happened in Diana's town, starting with Diana. Oh, what a shame so many humans had to die to be a part of a terrorizing race. Watch out and be on your guard darling, who knows? You may be next...

The Scary Stories submitted for this year's edition were written by students at Edwardsville High School

Page 24- Scary Stories - Thursday, October 24, 2013

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