It's summer time and I have been craving scary stories like you would not believe. I rented a bunch of scary movies the other night, and I think I might rent some more tonight. I may even start playing Fatal Frame again. I'm not sure why summer time puts me in the mood to be terrified, I wonder if anyone else feels that way. On our way out, Scott and I will probably pick up some Tim Horton's too. Maple dipped & honey curled donuts sound delicious... That and an iced cappuccino with french vanilla shots. Mmmm...
Maybe this will help put you all in the mood as well, so I'll post some scary stories for you all to read by candlelight. >:D
There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached, and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning.
As he looked around the inside of the cabin, he was surprised to see the walls adorned by several portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred and malice. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell into a restless sleep.
The next morning, the hunter awoke — he turned, blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows.
There was a girl who had an illness and was bed-ridden for the majority of her life. She was recently diagnosed to die within the next couple of months so her parents decided to spend as much time with her as they could before her time came. They decided that the best thing was to go camping at a local site for a little bit since the daughter was stuck in the hospital for so long.
On their way there, the girl was quiet as usual and laid in the back while the parents talked amongst themselves. When they finally reached their destination, they pitched the tent, unpacked everything and started a campfire. The mother was constantly filming the area and her daughter while the father went out for more firewood. It was getting dark when he came back, but he suddenly heard the mother scream so he rushed over to discover that his daughter was standing on her feet and was doing a wild, erratic ‘dance’ before she suddenly dropped dead.
After all the funeral processions and grieving subsided, the parents wanted to see the video the mother recorded on that very night. They put the tape in the player and began to watch. At first it just showed the mother looking at the scenery and random animals that passed by in the distance, but as the time frame skipped, it jumped to when she was inside the tent with the daughter as she stood up and began to jerk around.. But there was something wrong. It first was in the corner of their eyes but as they replayed the scene, their horror became more and more real.
The entire time the daughter was ‘dancing’, there was a ghastly white hand latched onto the top of her head.
When I was a kid I used to go to this camp in North Carolina every summer, up in the mountains. It was a great camp with tons of fun activities, I really enjoyed it. One of the programs I could have done without, however, was the dreaded hike up Mount Pinnacle. This was the trek taken only once during our stay at camp, a several hour hike to the top of a nearby mountain followed by an overnight camp out. Now the camp out part was really fun. We would split into our cabin groups and walk to our respective camp sites after the long hike. At night we would sit around the fire and tell scary stories, which always ended up being a really bad idea given that we were basically sleeping in these deserted woods with no protection whatsoever. Waking up in the morning to find that I was indeed still breathing was always a relief.
One year, however, things did not go as smoothly as they should have during the overnight on Mount Pinnacle. I was probably about 12 or 13 years old, and used to the camping routine by now as I had been going to the camp since age 8. The long hike had already passed and my cabinmates and I were sitting around at our camp site and talking. One of our two counselors approached us. "If you guys want us to cook you dinner you're going to have to go find some firewood. You'd better hurry up too. It'll be dark out soon."
We looked at each other with mild annoyance. Of course we didn't want to go scavenging for sticks. That was work, no matter how menial it seemed. We were hungry though, so we split into smaller groups of 2 or 3 and headed out.
I don't know about you, but I'm an adventurous type of guy. I try to add a little fun wherever I can, so I decided to transform this quest for wood into a fun little exploration expedition. Sure, we picked up a few twigs and branches along the way, but we now had a new goal to venture through some unofficial trails on this vast mountain. In all honesty I didn't have very high hopes for us. Like I said before, I had been camping here before and I hadn't ever stumbled across anything worth mentioning. But this was a new year, a new camp site, and a pleasant surprise awaited me. Or so I thought.
My friends and I searched around the area, eager to find something that might peak our interest, if only for a moment. After about 15 minutes I was ready to give up. I'll admit again that even from the start I wasn't expecting much. Suddenly one of my friends stops abruptly. The two of us that are still walking quickly stop and look back at him. He smiles and slowly points his hand to the right of him. Our eyes follow his hand to what at first glance seems to be just another leafy bush bordering the trail. Then I saw it. A pathway, just beyond these few green leaves. A road paved with dead leaves and dirt and sticks and rocks. It stuck out, and I wondered how I could have missed something so obvious. We chuckled with satisfaction and, pushing the leaves out of our way, began down this new path of wonder.
The path led us along its wavy bends for much longer than I had expected. At least ten minutes had passed before we actually reached the end of it. But it wasnt an end. It was more like a new beginning. This mystical path had led us right into a very large clearing, an open area of forestry that was just so blatantly different from any other part of the mountain I had ever encountered that I was immediately enthralled by the whole of it. It was like a place of wonder and disbelief. It was so natural and yet so unreal at the same time. Dusk was setting in but we didn't notice. The evening light only magnified the magic in the air. I scanned the area quickly and saw, off in the distance, and large tree that had fallen on its side. It had fallen at the precise location that allowed its long trunk to serve as a bridge over a small "gorge". "Just like in the movies" I thought to myself. I pointed this out to my friends and we headed over to the tree's roots. We intended to climb across the trunk to the other side because it looked like the path continued over there. First my friend Ben crossed over. He actually walked across, which I felt was too dangerous. My minor fear of heights was overcome by my desire to explore, and I crawl/walked across the trunk-bridge after him. I turned back to look at my third friend, whose turn it was to cross.
This friend, we'll call him Brandon, was definitely the more cowardly of the bunch. I could tell from his expression that he did not want to cross the trunk, so naturally I told him too along with Ben.
"Come on Brandon, cross over! It's not even a big
"I don't know guys. This thing doesn't look too sturdy. And it's getting pretty dark out. Everybody is probably wondering where we are. Why don't we head back and just check this place out more tomorrow morning?"
Although he was obviously making excuses, he did have a valid point. I hadn't realized it but it was much darker now than it had been when we first came here. The shadows were slowly merging into the night and we would be in deep shit if it got too dark for us to find our way back to the camp site, so in the end we did decide to head back. Once again Ben crossed back over the trunk before me. Now I was all alone on the far side of the path. My friends stood there and waited for me to cross, but I still had this burning urge to dig deeper, to find out what lay ahead. I had a feeling we wouldn't be able to come back to this place the next morning, so if I had come this far I might as well go a few steps further. "Hold on one sec, I'll be right back" I explained to them quickly, and I darted around the corner and down the path just a few steps. It was getting really dark now, and I could make out certain details off in the distance, but as I took a cursory glance around I noticed something a short distance away. It was a dark figure that seemed to be leaning against a tree. I was scared shitless but at the same time I knew my mind was just playing tricks on me, so I peered even harder at this enigma. It wasn't too tall, just about my height actually, maybe a little shorter. But it stayed perfectly still. As the seconds flew by I became more and more sure that I was staring at somebody or something living. What really got me was that it never moved once, not even an inch. It terrified me.
I snapped out of my apparent trance to the sound of my friends calling my name and asking me what I was doing. The crickets were chirping now. I ran as fast as I could back around the corner to where my friends were and across the log without a second thought.
My heart was still beating a mile a minute as I imagined the shadowed figure chasing me with inhuman speed.
"What were you doing back there?"
"Nothing man, I just had to take one little peak at what we were missing. I didnt want to come all this way for nothing"
I managed a forced chuckle. It's not like I was lying to them, there was just a little more to the story now. I decided not to tell them what I had seen for a few reasons. First of all, I was still trying to convince myself that I had imagined it, though I was now almost positive that I had seen something horrifying. Second, they would probably think I was playing a stupid prank on them. I have been known to lie for laughs on numerous occasions, so this was very probable. Finally, the last thing I wanted was for one of my friends to hear my story and then decide to prank me. You have no idea how scary those overnights can get. I swear, we literally just sleep on the ground in sleeping bags under an overhang. There aren't even any walls, just forest! When that fire dies out and the only light you have left is the moon it gets creepy, and I was already going to be up all night now. I didnt need one of my friends standing off in the distance while Im trying to sleep so he can spook the shit out of me. I was paranoid now, obviously.
Anyway, we made our way back to the site where we were questioned, first by the counselors:
"Where the hell were you"
"We got lost. Sorry"
And then by the rest of our friends:
"Where the hell were you"
"Oh nowhere, nowhere at all"
The standard campfire rituals commenced. Marshmallows, smores, scary stories, etc. The counselors always had the best scary stories, which didn't exactly help my current situation. I was on edge to begin with, but I took it all in and just waited for bedtime. I just wanted to get to sleep so I could wake up so I could leave. Finally it was time for bed. Being an occasional insomniac I usually find myself awake long after the last of my friends have fallen into dreamland, so the comfort of others only lasted for so long. I tried to fall asleep fast, I really did. But the harder I tried, the more I thought why I wanted to sleep. And who was waiting for me to fall asleep.
Sometime later, still during the middle of the night, a noise in the distance broke the silence. I was still reluctantly awake and I turned my head to hear better. It sounded like...barking. Barking and howling and rustling off in the distance. Somehow this was comforting to me. Dogs I could deal with. Wolves even, I could deal with. I even went so far as to delude myself into believing that they served as some kind of protection for me, and soon enough I slowly drifted off to sleep.
I awoke the next morning in a less than peaceful manner. I was being nudged, shaken. Somebody was saying something to me but I didn't want to listen. Now that it was morning and I was safe, all I wanted to do was sleep. The words were repeated to me, now a little less blurred. "______ ______ _____ _____?"
"What?" I said as I opened my eyes to my counselor's very nervous expression. This was not something I wanted to wake up to. I immediately became frightened again. Now I listened carefully for him to speak again.
"Have you seen Matt Jenner? Come on Jason this is serious! Wake up!"
I hadn't seen Matt Jenner. I barely even knew the kid. He was a year younger than us and in a different cabin. Apparently a 2/10 had been called over the walky talkies. This was an emergency code used by the camp staff whenever something potentially horrible had happened, like, say, a missing camper. Nobody seemed to know where he was. Not only that, but one of Matt's counselors was also missing. This wasn't of quite as much concern apparently. As I listened to what was going on, a wave of fear suddenly overtook me. This couldn't have possibly been related to last night, could it?
I later learned that the dogs I thought I had heard the night before were in fact search dogs, led by federal officers in desperate search of Matt. Once I found out about his missing counselor things seemed to piece together much easier. Apparently this guy was a schizophreniac who hadn't had a breakdown in years. In fact he had been doing so well lately that he recently made the decision to stop taking his medication all together. Once I heard that, I knew exactly what had happened. That dark figure, leaning against the tree. It wasn't moving. It wasnt moving because it was Matt Jenner's rotting corpse. And I'm almost positive that if I had taken just a few more steps down that path, if I had missed his body and kept walking along, I would have ended up right alongside him with nobody there to tell my story.
"So tell me", Dr. Harvey Radcliff said, coaxing a squeak from his chair, "how have you been taking care of yourself?"
The woman gave him an odd stare. Her name was Judith Bloome, and she was a thin-framed, moon-pale lacewing of a woman who did not wear her sixth month of pregnancy well. Her stomach swelled from her slender body like an insect egg grafted to a twig. Dr. Radcliff smiled inwardly at the image. The company, he knew, would not be amused.
"As far as I know, I'm doing all the right things," she answered warily. "Why do you ask? Is there a problem?"
Dr. Radcliff chuckled. "It's just my way of making sure patients stick to the regimen-especially my first-time mothers."
Judith nodded and patted her stomach tiredly. "I'll sure be glad when this is over," she groaned. "I feel like I'm giving birth to a bowling ball."
"First pregnancies are always like that," he said.
She groaned again. "I think this one will be my last."
Dr. Radcliff mentally seconded that notion. In his fifteen years as an obstetrician with Orthon Agricultural Applications, he had seen his share of company wives, and with a single office visit he could predict which ones would go on to have large families, and which ones would call it quits after their first pregnancy. Judith Bloome, he knew, feel into the latter category.
"Let me run a few questions by you," he went on, adding quickly, "just to make sure. Now. You haven't been smoking."
"Smoking by pregnant women may result in fetal injury, premature birth, and low birth weight," Judith answered, reciting the warning on cigarette packs.
She shook her head.
"Nothing except Pepto-Bismol," she said.
"And you are continuing to exercise."
"I walk every day. And do housework."
She shrugged. "Sometimes not, but most of the time, yeah."
"Not really," she shook her head. "Sometimes I get mad at my husband for not helping around the house more, but I try to understand. He works at the plant all day..."
"What division does your husband work in?"
"Hormonicides. They make growth regulators-pesticides that kill bugs by messing with their hormones."
Dr. Radcliff nodded. "How's your diet?"
"Lots of fruits and vegetables," she said proudly.
"Where do you buy your produce from?" He asked casually. "The company market?"
She blushed and did not answer immediately. He said, "It's OK," and she stammered, "Well, I get them from the grocery store. I think the produce tastes better tnan the stuff from the company store."
*So it's the husband*, Dr. Radcliff realized, nodding thoughtfully. But he said nothing about that. Instead, he told her, "Well that's all I need to know for today. You're doing fine. Come see me again in a month and we'll see how things are going."
Judith struggled from the chair and smiled wanly, an undercurrent of uncertainty in her expression. "You understand about the produce thing, " she said. "I mean, the company is so wonderful about providing medical care and subsidized groceries and all.... I almost feel like a traitor for shopping downtown."
Dr. Radcliff laughed and shooed her towards the door. "The company doesn't care where its employees shop, so don't you worry about that. Save your energy for carrying that extra load."
She beamed at him as she turned to go out the door, and for the first time that afternoon a bloom of health rose from her cheeks. Dr. Radcliff almost felt sorry for her.
Because there was no denying the X-rays. The real X-rays, not the substitutes he had shown her. The real X-rays revealed eleven tiny, oblong, chitinous skulls encased in her womb, and folds of multiple legs layered alond pulsating thoraxes. Ants, or bees, or some horrible permutation of life that was never meant to be.
"The husband," Dr. Radcliff muttered, shoving Judith Bloome's paperwork into the special blue fil in his desk drawer. There were four other folders in the file.
"He works around that shit all day, and it gets inside him, and voila! Dr. Harvey Radcliff gets another half million in hush money. Isn't that a gas?"
But the company, he knew, would not be amused.
I was driving up towards Prescott, AZ, my girlfriend, Becky, dozing off in the seat next to me. Rolling the window partially down, in the hopes the cool air would keep me alert, I wearily kept driving my chevy down this narrow highway road, with nothing but a thick forested area on the passenger side of me, and mostly open meadow land, with a few clumps of trees here and there, along the driver’s side of the road. I had wanted to leave first thing in the morning on Friday, but Becky was called into work at the last minute, so we ended up leaving at close to eight o’clock that night. Knowing we had to head back before early Monday, I didn’t want to wait until the next day to go and end up losing a good chunk of a Saturday to boot.
So here I was, it had to be close to at least 10 o’clock by then, driving by the light of my dim headlights, with a close to full moon overhead (full enough to see the open expanses of the passing meadow areas, anyway) when I noticed some smoke or steam coming up from the sides of my car hood. This, in and of itself, was not unusual as the car was close to fifteen years old, dented up a bit, with dimmer than usual lights and hoses that seemed to know the most inopportune time to break. Add to that, a radiator that overheated during the summer months or when in use for long periods of time. This being early October, I hadn't given the
radiator much thought - it hadn't bothered to act up since August, and as the saying goes 'out of sight, out of mind'. But something sure was putting off plumes under the hood, so I nudged Becky and explained in short that I had to pull over. As I slowed down a bit, Becky rolled down her window and peered out along the edges of the dark wall of pine trees.
"Up there," she exclaimed, pointing forward, "about twenty feet or so there's a dirt shoulder of some kind."
Slowing to a crawl, feeling safe at the moment as another car hadn't passed us for a number of miles now, I quickly saw the flat, dirt indent, about the length and width of two cars, just to the right of the road. The dirt area, much like that whole side of the road, was lined by a knotted mass of trees, giving it the look of a half circle cut down the middle by the road. I pulled over, and turned the car off - leaving the
keys hanging from the ignition.With the headlights on, I got out of the car and walked to the front of it, popping the hood. I had grabbed a flashlight out of the glovebox, and so proceeded to inspect the damage. Sure enough, the radiator had
overheated. I bent down a little, to peek between the crack of the hood's bottom edge and the top of the car front, to look at Becky through the front windshield. I was going to call out, to ask her to grab the
gallon bottle of water I kept behind the front seat (there since August, at least) so, once it cooled a bit, I could add water to the radiator. Expecting to see her dozing off, or looking toward me, I was surprised
to see her staring wide-eyed, mouth agape, out the direction of the driver's side window. She was as white as a ghost.
"What are you doing?" I demanded to know. She kept staring out at the meadowed fields, only raising her arm slightly to point in the direction she was looking.
"What?" I said, walking back towards the driver's door.
As I did, I looked out into the moonlit meadow. I saw a short line of trees in the distant background, a small pine about 20-25 ft out, directly in line with the back end of the car, and, running about ten feet from
that point forward, in a line almost parallel with the road, was a short brick wall, about three feet or so high. A sparse forested area began, about forty feet or so from the wall's edges, in either direction of the
"So?" I said, "Probably part of an old house, or a fence. What's the big deal about the wall?" As I got into the car, and shut the door to wait for the innards to cool, she replied - slowly, quietly - "It isn't the brick wall. It's what I saw looking at us OVER the top of the wall."
I turned to her, "What? Quit screwing around."
"Fuck you!" she said, "If I..." Then she stopped talking, and her gaze drifted past me, to the wall.
I turned to look.
I saw a small translucent-white stocky humanoid form, just shy of three feet tall, its tiny round eyes from this distance appearing as black as night, standing in front of the wall. It slowly took a step or two towards us, its short chubby arms at its side.
I screamed, and tried to turn on the flashlight. I knew the batteries were low, and sometimes had to jiggle it and turn the cap slightly to get it to work, so in my excitement I twisted the cap, the batteries flew out and I about dirtied by pants. As the batteries were now rolling under the seat and across the floor of the car, I decided to forget that.
I looked up, saw the hood was still up, and froze.
"He's going back," Becky then said.
I looked out over the moonlit field again, just in time to see this....thing... scamper around the side of the wall, out of view.
As Becky quickly rolled up her car window, I said I was going to shut the hood - to hell with the water, if the radiator didn't burn out we'd stop down the road and add water.
"Give me the bottle. I'll dump some in the reservoir and shut the hood, you just start the car." Becky replied.
As she got out and went to the front, I turned the key. The engine groaned, trying to turn over. I looked from the steering wheel, to Becky pouring some water into the reservoir, to the wall, and back again. As Becky slammed the hood shut, I looked towards the wall - to see the small, white head of the ghostly entity peering over the top of it.
"Get in the car!" I yelled, as the entity's tiny hands gripped the top of the wall, and it hoisted itself clean over - landing on its feet.
Running towards us.
Becky jumped in the passenger side, locking her door. She no longer had the bottle, which couldn't have been more than half empty now, but, under the circumstances, I didn't ask and I didn't care. I turned the key, still it wouldn't catch.
"Oh, god!" Becky murmured.
I didn't want to look.
I turned the key again, still just that tired groan. Becky leaned over, reaching past me, hitting my door lock with one hand while rolling the window up with the other (it was one of those older, manual window knob rollup jobs.)
"Hurry!" she said, frightened, as she sat back up.
With one more turn of the key, the car finally started, and as I punched
the accelerator, I looked toward the field. That little thing was only a few feet from the edge of the road – the edge on the OTHER side of the road, thankfully, but close enough that I could see its eyes were, indeed, dark, empty holes, its mouth was open now, in a wide leering grin, and I could have sworn it had small pointed teeth but it all happened so fast. Its skin, or surface, seemed to be roiling, as the entire entity ran at my car.
As we headed down the road, I turned my rearview mirror in such a way I could see "it" - quite a bit back now, turned away from us, walking alongside the road in the opposite direction. I watched the road ahead.
Then, Becky screamed. She had been half turned, looking back at the entity too. Now, she was bent straight over, her head buried in her hands. I turned my rearview mirror to and fro, but only saw the road - "it" was gone.
We drove another twenty minutes or so with the car smoking a small portion of the way. The car overheated again as we entered the outskirts of town, only then would Becky let me stop. As we parked and waited at the first gas station we hit, I asked what
had happened. "I was watching it, it stopped at the edge of the road." she answered.
"I know," I said, "I saw it walking away."
"Yeah," she answered "it was walking away. But as it walked away, its head turned all the way around, still grinning, and it watched us drive away."
Needless to say, when we headed back we left at 10 AM, to be sure we'd get back LONG before nightfall.
The Dyatlov Pass incident refers to an event that resulted in the deaths of nine ski hikers in the northern Ural mountains. The incident happened on the night of February 2, 1959 on the east shoulder of the mountain Kholat Syakhl (Холат Сяхл) (a Mansi name, meaning Mountain of the Dead). The mountain pass where the incident occurred has been named Dyatlov Pass (Перевал Дятлова) after the group’s leader, Igor Dyatlov (Игорь Дятлов).
The mysterious circumstances and subsequent investigations of the hikers’ deaths have inspired much speculation.
Investigations of the deaths suggest that the hikers tore open their tent from within, departing barefoot in heavy snow; while the corpses show no signs of struggle, two victims had fractured skulls, two had broken ribs, and one was missing her tongue. According to sources, the victims’ clothing contained high levels of radiation - though this was likely added at a later date, since no reference is made to it in contemporary documentation and only in later documents. Soviet investigators determined only that “a compelling unknown force” had caused the deaths, barring entry to the area for years thereafter. The causes of the accident remain unclear.
Hope you all enjoy the stories, have to get back to work on comics now. xD