When I was younger, I'd drop my hand down the side of the bed to let my dog, Poppy, lick it reassuringly. I had a lot of nightmares, and Poppy was my saviour when I had troubles getting back to sleep. One weekend in late June, my parents went to stay in a hotel out of state to celebrate their anniversary. I was pretty nervous about being home alone, but I knew Poppy would be there to help out. After crawling into bed the night they left, I flicked off the lamp on my bedside table and closed my eyes. I let my hand fall off the side of the bed, letting Poppy lick it excitedly, and I fell asleep happy. I was awoken that same night by a dripping sound. The alarm clock on my nightstand blinked 3:02. I tried closing my eyes and letting Poppy lick my hand once more, but neither of those things helped dull the noise. So I dragged myself from bed and crossed the landing to the bathroom, where I tugged at the tap handle. However, the dripping didn't stop. Confused, I pulled back the shower curtain to check the taps in the bath. Still no luck. I returned to bed, letting Poppy lick my hand once more, but was now far too infuriated to sleep. I left the comfort of my bed and followed the sound to the airing cupboard at the top of the stairs. Weird, right? Airing cupboards don't leak. So, I yanked the door open. And there was Poppy. Throat slit, blood dripping onto the shelf beneath her hanging corpse. I sleep with the light on.
When I was about 10 years old, I had a babysitter that was about 17. It was very late. My mom and dad had left to go to a party. My babysitter took me to my room to tuck me in. On the way up we started to hear every window and door rattle. She left me on the landing to the second floor, while she went to check on the noises. I followed her without her knowing. She saw that there was nothing hitting the doors and windows. I walked in the kitchen and saw the backdoor wide open. I screamed and ran to the living room. She ran into the kitchen and saw one clown in the doorway. She screamed and grabbed a knife. She told me to run for safety while she tries to save me. What she didn't know was that the clown was a blown up clown for a haunted house. I ran out of the house giggling while she was shaking in fear. I stayed outside til my mom and dad showed up.
About year ago Me and my friends had a legit scary experience with camping Because one friends wanted to go hiking for her birthday. (3 of my bestie friends doesn't want their real names to be out their ,and so do I ,so I'll be using my username). I'm just happy we made it out. So Tracy, Molly, Alexia are my bestie 6 years from high school we're all in different college , but from time to time we always hang-out in summer. It was Tracy birthday in she always have so crazy ideas to do something different she want to go hiking , but she not talking about nice group camping trip with cabins ,pool and other people. She was talking about that real life camping in middle of the wood and total darkness.Tracy cry and beg to my other friends Molly
About year ago Me and my friends had a legit scary experience with camping Because one friends wanted to go hiking for her birthday. (3 of my bestie friends doesn't want their real names to be out their ,and so do I ,so I'll be using my username). I'm just happy we made it out. So Tracy, Molly, Alexia are my bestie 6 years from high school we're all in different college , but from time to time we always hang-out in summer. It was Tracy birthday in she always have so crazy ideas to do something different she want to go hiking , but she not talking about nice group camping trip with cabins ,pool and other people. She was talking about that real life camping in middle of the wood and total darkness.Tracy cry and beg to my other friends Molly
At first, I thought she was just a random shadow from something outside. You know like when you were little and the tree branch looks like a monster’s arm because the streetlights just had to make it look that way? I thought she was a tree branch. It may seem silly to say, you’re probably thinking “How can a woman look like a tree branch?” Obviously, she was not. I’m just saying that is what my half-past four in the morning brain thought. After a while, she wasn’t just standing by the window. Some nights she’d be sitting on the window sill. Other nights she would be at my desk playing with my pencils. How could I be so calm about this? I guess I kind of just got used to her. This woman never bothered me, I saw no reason to bother her. It’d be different if she was like stealing my pencils or tearing up my room. That was the thing, she wasn’t. Nights went by and she simply became another part of my room at night. When day rolled around I didn’t think of her. One day I had just gotten home at around six at night and it wasn’t dark enough for her to be there yet. Not thinking much of it I assured my cousin Jim he could come spend the night. Two dudes just hanging around, ya know. See, now that I think of it, it makes sense. She was used to me. My nice quiet schedule. I woke up went to work came home ate and then watched some television before I fell asleep. With Jim over, it wasn’t quite the same. He showed up at about half past seven with three large pizzas and a case of beers. In my room, we downed them all in about an hour and a half. Not really sure what to do next we got out a deck of cards and started to mess around with them. Time flew by and just as Jim had finally won, he let out a yelp of victory. She had been sitting quietly at my desk, minding her own business like she always does. His sudden outburst must have shaken her to the core. From the chair at my desk, she shot up and let out the loudest sound either of us had heard. Her hands over her ears she mocked Jim. Getting closer and closer to him she got louder with each step. Right in his face, she took a swing at his head. In her hand was a rock, a fairly hefty one if I do say so myself. Jim hadn’t moved till that moment. Although the movement was involuntary Jim was knocked onto the floor. His head now bleeding not only from her blow with the rock but now from being smashed straight onto the floor. My doctors tell me there wasn’t a woman, they say there never was. I know she was there though because she came with me here. I don’t have a window in my new room but she still hangs around every night. I let all my friends know they can’t be loud at night. She really does not like anything other than perfect silence.
Not long ago, but before interstate highways ran around towns and cities, a young man named Jd left Greensboro late one night to drive to his old home in Lexington. At that time, just east of Jamestown, the old road dipped through a tunnel under the train tracks. The Jd knew the road well, but it was a thick foggy night in early summer and he drove cautiously, especially when he neared the Jamestown underpass. Many wrecks had taken place at that spot. He slowed down on the curve leading to the tunnel and was halfway through it when his eyes almost popped out of his head. Standing on the roadside just beyond the underpass was an indistinct white figure with arms raised in a gesture of distress.Jd quickly slammed on his brakes and came to a stop beside the figure. It was a girl(Alexa), young, beautiful, resplendent in a long white evening dress. Her troubled eyes were glaring straight toward him. Obviously she was in need. He jumped from the car and ran around to where she stood motionless. "Can I help you?" "yes." Her voice was low, stranger. I want to go home. I live in High Point." He opened the door, and she got in. As they drove off, he said, "I'm glad I came by. I didn't expect to find anyone like you on the road so late at night." "I was at a dance." She spoke in a monotone. "My date and I had a quarrel. It was very bad. I made him drop me back there." He tried to continue the conversation, but she would say nothing more until they were into High Point. "Turn at the next left," she said. "I live three doors on the right." He parked before a darkened house, got out of the car and went around to open the door for her. There was no one there! He looked into the back seat. No one! He thought she might have rushed up the sidewalk and out of sight. Confused and undecided about what to do next, he thought it only reasonable to find out if she had entered the house. He went up the steps and knocked on the door. No one came. He knocked again. There was no sound anywhere. After a third knock, through the side panes a dim light appeared from the pitch-black hallway. Finally the door was opened by a white-haired woman(Molly) in a night robe. "I brought a girl to this house," he explained, "but now I can't find her. Have you seen her? I picked her up out on the highway." "Where?" "At the Jamestown underpass. She told me she had been to a dance and was on her way home." "Yes, I know," said the woman wearily. "that was my daughter. She was killed in a wreck at that tunnel five years ago tonight. And every year since, on this very night, she signals Jd like you to pick her up. She is still trying to get home." Jd turned from the doorway, speechless. The dim light in the house went out. He drove on to Lexington, but never has he forgotten, nor will he ever forget, the beautiful hitchhiker and how she vanished into the night.
Just a few weeks ago we were on a road trip from BC to San Diego and we came upon a campsite just outside of Crescent City, California. We drove through, one side of the campground was relatively empty, and I noticed a few scattered tents but nobody close to the location we ended up picking. We had tons of space. We wanted an early night so I started a fire while my boyfriend started cooking. We ate, had a few beers, and climbed up to our rooftop tent (tepee) with our dog by 9pm or so. I had a rough time sleeping and woke up a few times but finally fell into a decent sleep. In the pitch dark with all of our tent windows and canvasses closed I was awoken at 1am by someone whistling outside of our tent the tune of ‘When the saints come marching in.’ After a few minutes of this repetitive whistling I nudged my boyfriend who awoke and was obviously freaked out as well. The whistling then turned to chanting things like ‘When you sleep here you disrespect me, and when you disrespect me you disrespect the US Marines!’ The person would then start spelling out words like ‘F.L.E.E.’ The verbiage and tone kept getting more aggressive so we decided we had to make a move. I slowly unzipped the tent while our guard dog was snoring and got my head out of the tent. I took a few seconds to let my eyes adjust and figure out where the person was. I felt more confident once I could somewhat see and hear so I climbed down and the boyfriendpassed me the dog and he climbed down, too. We flipped the tent up without securing it and we jumped into a truck (while the person was still whistling) to a motel in Crescent City. The next morning we drove back to get the few belongings that weren’t in the truck and a family who had been camping a few sites over said it went on for another 2-3 hours and it was the scariest thing their family had ever experienced.
Rusalka In Slavic mythology 'Rusalka' was a female ghost, water nymph or succbus-like demon who lived in a lake. Her eyes shone like a green fire. Men who were seduced by her died in her arms, and in some version her laugh can also cause death. She corresponds to the Scandinavian and German Nixie. The ghostly version of the succubus is the soul of a young woman who died in or near a lake (many of these rusalki were murdered by lovers), and came to haunt that lake; this undead rusalka is not particularly malevolent, and will be allowed to die in peace if her death is avenged. Yuki-Onna Yuki-Onna ("snow woman") is a spirit or type of spirit found in Japanese folklore. She is a popular figure in Japanese animation, manga and literature. Yuki-Onna appears as a tall, beautiful woman with long hair. her skin is inhumanly pale or even transparent, causing her to blend into the snowy landscape. Allu Allu are the offspring of Succubi. In Akkadian mythology they were a race of monstorous and faceless demons that destroyed all that they could capture. They were engendered during a mans sleep with Lilitu or one of her deon servants. Whent the man who engendered them was about to die, they surrounded his bed waiting for the moment during which they could take their father's soul, impeding his travel to the Underworld, and making of him an errant spirit, feared by all living people. Belili 'Belili' was first a Sumerian minor goddess called Gesht-inanna, sister of Dumuzi, and wife of Nin-gishzida (the door keeper of An). She was later included in the Babylonian pantheon with the name of Belili or Belit-ili (also spelled Belet-ili), acquiring in some time a much higher status as the wife of Bel (the Assyrian and Babylonian equivalent to Baal). The Canaanites called her Baalat or Baalit, the wife and female counterpart of Baal. As the wife of Bel she can be associated with Ishtar for Assyrians and Babylonians, with Astarte for Semites, and with Asherah for Philistines; in this sense Belili can also be associated with sacred prostitution and human sacrifice (of children, by fire). Some authors, however, relate her with Lilith, who is commonly associated with the demon Asmodai and considered a female demon with the function of acting as a succubus. Other authors say that she could have been a fertility goddess (this connects her again with Ishtar, Astarte and Asherah), and some Neopagans consider Belili a mother goddess. Lamia A related concept [to the succubus] is the Lamia from old English legends. The lamia was said to appear in graveyards as a beautiful woman who draws young men to their deaths. She would lie in wait for a naive victim, looking as if she needs his assistance in some way. legend has it that, if you see such a woman in a graveyard who appears to need help, you are supposed to call out to her, for the Lamia cannot answer back, since she has a snakes tongue and can only hiss. Additional Info: Other interpretations of Lamia revolve around her being the mother of two of Zeus's children, to which upon Hera finding out cursed the woman into a snake-like being similar to Medusa. To add insult to injury, Hera then killed her two children, and cursed to woman to walk the Earth searching for her deceased children and/or eating the children of others'. In other tellings, Zeus hid her within a cave where, again similarly to Medusa, was given permission to kill anyone that dared enter into the area. Some interpretations also say that Lamia is not one single entity, but a group of creatures all of their own, known as, "Lamiae," plural of, "Lamia."
At the end of a quiet road, behind a veil of twisted black oak trees, there was a house. A woman lived there. On bitter nights like this one, she sat by the fire and read until she grew tired enough for sleep. But on this night, as her lids grew heavy, she was startled by a sound. A sound she wasn’t accustomed to hearing these days. Who could be calling, she wondered? And this late? She rose from her chair and picked up the phone. “Hello?” “I’m going to kill you,” a man with a deep voice said. “Who is this?” she asked. No answer. “Who is this?” she repeated, her hand trembling. There was a click. Silence. She quickly dialled the police and explained what had happened. The officer told her to wait while he traced the call. After a few moments he said, “The call is coming from . . . inside your house.” “That doesn’t make sense,” she said. “How could someone be inside my house?” “He probably broke in,” he said. “Oh yeah, I guess that makes sense.” “And that’s not everything,” he said. “I’m not a police officer.” “You aren’t?” “No, I’m the killer guy from before. I never actually hung up.” “But I heard a click.” The man made a clicking sound with his mouth. “Like that?” he said. “Wow, that’s really good.” “Thanks.” “So, are you really inside my house?” “Yeah, totally.” “Where?” The man’s breathing grew heavier. “I like your hair,” he said. “Wait, you can see me?” “Yes.” “Wait, you like my hair?” “It’s really nice.” “If you can see me, then what am I wearing?” “Looks like a blouse from Banana and a skirt from . . . Anne Taylor Loft?” “Wow, you really can see me.” “I can also see—wait, what the hell is that?” “What?” “There’s a person, a ghost hovering near you.” “It’s sort of hard to trust you after the click thing.” “No I’m serious, over by the couch.” The woman turned and gasped, “Oh my god, I see it! I knew this place was haunted.” “Jesus Christ. Is it a kid? Eww, he’s all translucent.” “Looks like a little boy.” “What does he want??” “I think he wants to play. He’s holding a kite.” The ghost boy floated closer and spoke: “Play with meeeeee.” “Oh my God, he can talk!” the man said. “Play with meeeeee,” the ghost boy repeated. “Um, no thank you!” the man said. “He can’t hear you,” the woman said. “Put me on speaker.” “Hold on,” she said. “Try now.” “We don’t want to play with you! O.K., junior? Just run along.” “Why?” the boy said, cocking his head to one side. “Playing is fun.” “No it isn’t!” the man yelled . “Who are you?” the ghost boy asked the woman. “Why are you in my house?” “Oh, I’m Ellen. I actually live in this house now. And the voice you’re hearing on the phone is . . . I didn’t get your name.” “It’s, uh, Douglas,” the man said, reluctantly. “Douglas is hiding somewhere in here to kill me, right, Douglas?” Ellen said. “That was the plan,” Douglas said . “And you guys are scared of a kid with a kite? Jesus,” the ghost boy said. “A dead kid with a kite!” Douglas said. There was a heavy silence for several moments. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. “Expecting someone?” Douglas asked. It rang again. Ellen walked over and opened it. Standing there was a hulking man in ratty clothes, barely concealing a bloodied machete behind his back. “Pardon me, Ma’am,” he said. “My car broke down and I was wondering if I could charge my phone in your house?” “Sorry, I don’t think so,” Ellen said, starting to close the door. The man shoved his foot inside. “Well, I do think so,” he said. Ellen stumbled and fell to the ground. “Who the hell is that?” Douglas screamed. “I’m a homicidal drifter. Who the hell are you?” the drifter said, confused. “Where’s that voice coming from?” “He’s a killer hiding in my house,” Ellen said, holding up the phone. “Douglas.” “Hiding? Where?” the drifter asked, looking around nervously. “He’s in the closet,” the ghost boy said. “What in the shit is that?” the drifter screamed. “I’m a ghost. I used to live here like a hundred years ago. Oh, and let me guess, you don’t want to play with me.” “Hell, no, I don’t want to play with you. What’s going on in here?” “What’s going on is no one will play with me!” “For Christ’s sake, no one’s flying a kite at night,” Douglas shouted. “Give it up!” The ghost boy began to cry. “Now you made him cry, Douglas,” Ellen chided. “Sorry if I’m a little on edge because you let a killer into the house,” Douglas said. “First of all, I didn’t let him in, he busted in,” Ellen said. “It’s true, I did,” the drifter said. “Second of all, you’re also a killer, Douglas.” “Touché,” the drifter said. “And third of all, don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to the dead kid.” “O.K., O.K. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” Douglas said. The ghost boy smiled. Everyone seemed to calm down a bit, until the doorbell rang again. Ellen walked toward the door. “DON’T!” the three others shouted. She opened it and peered outside. There was no one there, just a large wooden box on the front step. “There’s a box out here,” Ellen said. “There’s no label or anything,” “I have a bad feeling about this box,” the drifter said. “I hate this box,” the ghost boy said. Ellen ignored them and carried it inside. She turned to the drifter. “May I?” He wiped his machete on his pants and handed it to her. She popped open the top, reached in, and pulled out a tattered clown doll with a sinister grin. “What is it? What is it?” Douglas yelled, through the phone. “Some sort of clown doll,” Ellen said. “I don’t want to play with a clown doll,” the ghost boy said, beginning to cry. “Why don’t we just put this thing back in the box before it gives us all nightmares, O.K.?” the drifter said. “Look, there’s a string,” Ellen said, pulling it before anyone could object. The clown began to wheeze, its eyes shifted from side to side, and an eerily cheerful song emanated from its open mouth. Welcome to my circus, My circus of fun. There’s nowhere to hide. There’s nowhere to run. You’re all my guests inside the Big Top. I’m going to kill you all, basically. The clown let out a terrible cackle. “Really psyched you pulled the string, Ellen,” Douglas said. “I mean, come on_!_” “What does the clown mean?” the ghost boy asked. “I think he was pretty clear,” the drifter said, wringing his hands. “He’s going to kill us all . . . basically.” “How’s a doll going to kill us?” Ellen asked. Each of them silently surveyed the room in anticipation. Suddenly, the lights went out. “What happened? Who did that?” the ghost boy screamed. “I can’t see anything!” the drifter said, “I literally can’t see anything because it’s too dark now!” Through the darkness, Ellen let out a cry, “Oh no!” “Ellen?” Douglas screamed, “What is it?” “It’s the clown! It killed her,” said the drifter, his voice shaking. “And we’re next!” “He killed Ellen!” the ghost boy sobbed. Seconds later, the lights flashed back on. Ellen’s hands were raised to her face. “My stupid contact lens slid out of place,” she said, spreading her eyelids apart, and poking at her pupil. “So annoying.” “Oh, please don’t do that,” the drifter said, squirming. “What’s she doing?” Douglas asked, with dread. “Touching her actual eyeball with her actual finger,” the ghost boy said, wincing. “It’s a real slippery one,” Ellen said, maneuvering deeper into her eye. “Can’t get a grip on it.” Douglas gagged. “Oh my god, that’s so vile.” The drifter raised his fist to his mouth with a grimace, as Ellen pressed her thumb against her wet, quivering eyeball for leverage. “Ugh, now I think it’s folded up under my lid,” said Ellen, stretching her lid out. “Can someone look and tell me if they can see it?” There was a click from the phone. “Douglas? Was that a real click?” The ghost boy faded into the wall, saying, “I’m out.” “Ghost boy?” She heard the front door opening behind her. “Drifter? You, too?” The drifter turned to her with a dazed look, “I hate this place so much,” he said, then dropped the machete from his limp hand and walked into the darkness. The end thanks for listening ps I love you Winston... Love-PCP_Ariel?
We bought an old house, my boyfriend and I. He's in charge of the "new" construction – converting the kitchen in to the master bedroom for instance, while I'm on wallpaper removal duty. The previous owner papered EVERY wall and CEILING! Removing it is brutal, but oddly satisfying. The best feeling is getting a long peel, similar to your skin when you're peeling from a sunburn. I don't know about you but I kinda make a game of peeling, on the hunt for the longest piece before it rips.Under a corner section of paper in every room is a person’s name and a date. Curiosity got the best of me one night when I Googled one of the names and discovered the person was actually a missing person, the missing date matching the date under the wallpaper! The next day, I made a list of all the names and dates. Sure enough each name was for a missing person with dates to match. We notified the police who naturally sent out the crime scene team.I overhead one tech say "yup, it's human." Human? What's human?"Ma'am, where is the material you removed from the walls already? This isn't wallpaper you were removing."
Don’t dismiss this outright as the work of some raving lunatic. There’s some sense to this story, if you’ll just hear me out… Look, we all wonder if time travel is possible, right? Well, let me tell you something… it is. I’m from the future, actually. I know you probably don’t believe that, but seriously, I’m from the future. It’s a really great thing; getting to see the past, watching events unfold… stuff like that. We know more now than we ever would. Behind all the fun, though, there’s a more serious aspect. We aren’t supposed to go in our own lifetime, and we are NEVER allowed to contact our past selves. Let me tell you, I’m breaking that rule right now. Yes, kid, you’re talking to yourself. Your future self. I’m going to be executed for this, but you know what? I accept that. I’m preventing something by talking to you that is WORSE than death. I can’t tell you outright what to do, because the filters would catch it. This is the closest I can get, trust me. I can, however, send a little message. You should probably read the first word of every paragraph, now.
1.2.3. Based on a true story... A few years ago when I was only 15, me and my friends decided to go camping. Of course at only 15 myself and my best friends Molly and Tess would never be allowed to go to a field miles away with 2 boys. So we lied, each of us "staying at each others houses". With the bare minimum we headed out. We found a big open field surrounded by miles of forest. The boys, JD and Quinn began to put up the tent in the pitch black from how long it had taken us to get there. I was just standing there when I noticed it. A soft flickering light on the other side of the field. At first I thought it was just someone from the house on the edge of the forest seeing what we were doing. But I looked closer and saw 3 hooded figures standing around a tall candle, with something I couldn't make out strapped to their belts. As I turned to the others I started to faintly hear them chanting. We knew we had to get out of there and we were barely out of the field when we heard the click of a gun being reloaded. 1. 2. 3. We moved fast be we could hear them rustling in the bushes behind us and when I looked back the glare of bright eyes in the dark stared back at me. We kept moving until all of a sudden they seemed to be gone. We set up the tent as quickly as you can in the dark and huddled together heart's beating fast. We started to drift off and thought we were safe when they returned. We saw their shadows pass where the moonlight hit the tent. 1. 2. 3. They circled us like vultures circling their prey. Chanting in a language I didn't recognize, it got louder and louder until it stopped. The split second it stopped a knife came crashing from above my head piercing into my skull. I let out a loud shriek and sobbed as blood gushed from the top of my head. As quickly as they appeared, they seemed to vanish again. JD was the one who volunteered to leave the tent and look out. He was only out there 20 seconds when I heard the shots go off. 1. 2. 3. The thud off his body and then there was nothing. We sat there silent for 10 minutes. We felt their presence before we saw or heard them. The sound of their guns being readied rings in my ears every second of every day. 1. 2. 3. 3 shots, 3 seconds and all of my closest friends were gone. I curled into a ball, as their blood pooled around me. That was how the police found me. But they never did catch the killers. Perhaps there never were any hooded figures. Maybe I snapped that night. Killed them all in cold murder. Who's to know but me? I guess you'll never know... But I wouldn't suggest going camping tonight.
There was an old lady who lived on her own in a very foggy part of Dart moor. She had lived alone for fifteen years, ever since her husband had died in a mysterious car accident. However, the car accident is not my present purpose on which to dwell. You see, this old lady had a passion for jigsaw puzzles, it probably came with the stigma of being alone for she had no family or friends and lived in a very secluded spot. Every night she would sit at her dining room table and work on her current jigsaw puzzle until it was finished, then she would start a new one. However, there came a night, a rugged, windy, stormy winter night when she ran out of jigsaw puzzles. She was extremely upset as she had nothing else to do (this was in the days before TV and her radio had no signal in so removed a place). She was just thinking of going up to bed earlier than usual when she heard a thud, as if something had fallen onto the mat from the mail flap. Intrigued, the old lady hobbled downstairs to find a rectangular parcel had been put through the door and now lay, invitingly, on the mat. She picked it up, carried it upstairs to her dining table and opened it to reveal a new jigsaw puzzle! It had no picture of what it made up on the front but the old lady didn’t care. Neither did she care who had sent it, she was just so happy to have another puzzle to do. It took her about an hour to complete it but as she began the get the entire picture her consternation grew for she saw that the picture being made up was that of the very room in which she now sat. Then, she gasped, for she realized that the woman sitting at the table in the picture with her back to the window was a picture of her. Her fingers trembled as she placed the last four pieces of the puzzle to reveal a picture of a crazed madman at the window staring into the room, holding an axe. The last thing that old lady ever heard was the sound of breaking glass…
July 22nd, 2010 Alberni St. Vancouver, BC, Canada All ready weary of being the absorbing marshmallow between tight turns, Alexa expressed an over exaggerated grunt of restlessness. To Alexa's right, Molly rolled her eyes and pull out her phone and tap her fingers on what looked like a keyboard. While the chirping sounds of messages filled the over stuffed van. I looked out the window, studying the large beach. My seat vibrated beside me. Molly looked over, trying to sneak a glance of who was texting me. I put my phone in my hand, still getting use to this strange device, I open to see what the message could contain. "Hey, babe! Since we're just off our camping trip and heading to English Bay Beach, why not be a doll and collect me some shells! I'll pay you what ever is in my piggy bank!~Alexa" I looked at the time 12:01pm. A new day, a new challenge with these girls. I budge my shoulder into Alexa, which caused her to be pushed into Molly. Molly looked over at us. I cracked a grin at the girls, "Why didn't you just tell me, silly goose! I'm right here." I laughed. Molly and Alexa laughed along with me. Molly chimed in "Let me guess, Alexa here will also give you a new outfit if you collect 6,000. Ha!" My face dropped. I could feel the determination surge through me to reach that goal. "And prepare youself for sailor hats, sea glass, and maybe a private ship, babe." Alexa winked. JD turned to look into the back where the girls sat. "Rumour has it, there's ghosts in these parts." JD spoke in soft eery voice. "Haven't you girls heard? Apes at the zoo broke free in December. No one has seen them since. Some say they wear masks and wear a red shirt. Lurking in the college near by. Rarely making appearances. The others.. Well, they say they were murdered!" Quinn sassed at JD's comment. Alexa gasped, grabbing Molly's hand. "Not Harambe!" Everyone blinked. Who was this Harambe she was talking about? This is 2010. Alexa looked down in embarrassment. JD pulled onto the beach. Letting the others unpack, as I began my quest to collect shells. Running into strange woman wearing bikinis of pizza with pride, as a group dropped cats into the sand. I continued my way, walking into a tour of an old college by the beach. The tour guide looked over at me with one lazy eye. "Many men and women disappeared on this floor." His voice dropped lower. "One disappeared to a dance off." He came closer to me. "Do you dance? You look like a smart girl." I shook my head no. "The local farmers got on the ship and pinned him in the lounge floor downstairs." He glared at me. Had forgetting to take a breath, I breathed in sharply. Watching my breath float away from the coldness on the campus. The tour guide walked away, on the back of his red shirt read "You only LCBC once." Curiosity got the best of me. I headed to the lounge room. Immediately I heard shuffling feet. I ducked behind a counter with coffee. Breathing as lightly as possible, goose bumps rose on my arms. I heard the scariest words in my life. "The price of cats will be raised to 420 extra credits." I jumped out of my skin, running onto to the beach. I went to Molly and Alexa, explaining everything I saw. At the same time, Molly and Alexa tilted their head and asked: "Have you completed our quest? I have the perfect Baewatch shirt for you."
Forgot to tell that I asked the owner of the house were renting and she told us a horrifying story. She said there was a single father that lives there before. He has a son which was just 3 months old. The mother died after giving birth so he has to take care of the baby. She said that he got arrested for killing his own baby just because the baby was too loud and keeps on crying. He was sentenced a death penalty. I really thought the mysterious events had something to do with the fruit I ate???
SOLO CAMPING TRIP A woman survivalist and trained outdoors guide who loves to go solo camping. Returns home after 2 weeks of being in the bush and not seeing a single soul. Develops her disposable camera film to find a roll of film with numerous pictures of her sleeping at night, on different nights. She has never gone camping or hiking since.
true story Schoolmate This was happened almost 2 yrs ago. That day we have a scheduled make up class to one of our profs. We started the discussion by 6pm at the library. Our library is located at the 3rd floor of one of the buildings in our campus (just a small campus tho). While the discussion was on going, we didn't notice the time until the whole power in the campus were turned off by the staffs and guards. They haven't thought that we were still at the library. Each one of us used the flashlight of our phones to find the way out. We stayed outside the library while our prof confronted the staffs to turn on the power again just for us to gather our things. Its was almost 10 pm. While waiting, 2 of my classmates and me noticed someone sitting on the first step of the staircase beside the library tho it was dim. One of them shouted 'Hey, what are you doing there?" That called the attention of some of our classmates. Then he suddenly stand and go down the stairs. We saw him going down slowly but didn't reached the bottom, he was suddenly gone. Thats the time we feel the creepiness... Later on, when the power turned on and all of us gathered our things, each one of us rushed to leave the building. While going down stairs, the creepy student we saw was walking toward us (he was going up stairs and his head was lowered) we knew then that he was not an ordinary student because we all have goosebumps while he was walking toward us. That time, we ran for our lives. Good thing no one was hurt. When we finally reached the bottom, we saw him standing still at the top of the stairs where we saw him sitting. When we reached the guards and told our story, they said that maybe he was the student who died years ago because of heart attack on that building. ? From that day we don't agree on makeup classes anymore...