Short Scary Stories

[David Hussey]

Hahaha
Cuz you said vampires do not exist

oh lol
i forgot about that comment

 

[arsiss]

everyone has a breaking point...........................hers was 45 degrees

 

[arsiss]

You know, it never truly made sense to me, why the movies always have the monster appear in the mirror.

You know the ones, where the victim is washing their face, or putting on makeup, or is just generally staring in the mirror. They turn away for a brief moment, then when they return, there's the monster/murderer/villain standing behind them, ready to strike.

This seems counterproductive to me. My kind have thrived for centuries on stealth. When we take a human, we don't just stand stupidly behind them until they see us in a reflection. It is completely counter-productive, for you give them a chance to react and resist.

No, the best technique that we have refined over the generations is to strike when they least expect. You know, when they're still washing their face, or changing their clothes, or even, you know, sitting and staring at a computer screen, reading a story that someone posted, ignoring that noise behind them that should sound suspicious. Its probably nothing, right?

 

[arsiss]

I remember the first time we meet. I recall hearing an upbeat jingle as kids flocked from their homes, engulfing him. I was hesitant in my approach at first, a young adult, blatantly standing out among much younger peers. But the flood of children soon disintegrated into their respective homes, as I was left to approach the van. Before even giving me time contemplate options, he handed me an ice-cream instead. Catching the skepticism off my face, he gave me a reassuring smile, “I save the best for last”. Showing the best of my gratitude, I grabbed the cone, returning to the comforts of my home.

And from then on it was the same. I will be the last one in the crowd, as he would offer me ice-cream and always stating, “I save the best for last”. But as each encounter pass I can’t help but notice the dwindling number of children that come each time, or the ever so faint metallic scent that appears to be embedded within his clothing. I don’t know whether it was instinct or paranoia that kicked in, but I found myself forfeiting any further interaction with him.

But ever so often when I hear the reminiscing melody of a ice-cream truck, I would force a peek through the blinds of my window. And every time there would less and less children… Soon there were only five left… four… three… two… one…

That night as I forced sleep upon myself, a faint jingle drifted through the room. As denial flooded my thoughts, a soft whisper drifted to my ears, “I saved the best for last”.

 

[arsiss]

I woke up to the sound of scratching coming from the first floor. The bed shifted next to me as Margaret sleepily asked me to let the dog out to pee. I sighed angrily as I realized the clock read four a.m. On my way down the stairs I looked out the window to the back yard where I could see Charlie, the dog, rolling around in the grass. I rubbed my face in an attempt to wake myself up. "I'm too tired for this shit." The scratching grew louder as I got to the first floor. It was coming from the bathroom at the bottom of the stairs. As I approached, I could hear sobbing coming from the other side of the door. I stood up straight and took a deep breath before jerking the door open and quickly flipping on the light. I let my eyes adjust to the light and immediately the sobbing grew into muffled screaming. Daniel was lying hogtied on the floor and had been trying to cut himself loose using the toilet paper holder. I kneeled next to him and removed the duct tape from his mouth. “What do you want from us?” he began to shout, “Oh god! Margaret! MARGARET!!” I quickly stood and kicked him hard enough for him to pass out. “Some peace and ******* quiet.” I grabbed his straight razor from the counter, and walked back up the stairs.

 

[arsiss]

The disposal was clogged again. It wasn't a terrible surprise. No one in the house seems to understand that it can't grind spoons to a drainable pulp. As much as I hate to do it, I roll up my sleeve and stick my hand down the disposal.

At these times I always second guess the wiring. That's normal I suppose. We're all pretty attached to our lim… Is this hair? Matted up chunks of black hair are all intwined in the mechanics of the disposal. I turn my head and push deeper into the disposal until I notice a smiling 2 foot figure sitting on the counter. My daughter's realistic dolls always give me the willies. Sitting on the counter with no clear reason as to why it was sitting there didn't help. I turn to look at the drain once more. It's too dark to see anything in there.

I hear the sound of a rustling skirt and quick light footsteps. I turn my head again expecting to see my daughter, but instead the doll was standing by the light switches. I can now see the patch of black hair missing from the back of its head. I look down towards the drain with the sudden realization that I needed to pull my hand out now.

I hear another rustle, and the click of a flipped switch

 

[arsiss]

I'm only the janitor. I just clean the floors and slabs with disinfectant to make sure it's spick and span for the morticians to preform their dissections in the morning.

But every now and again I'll hear someone try to communicate with me.

They start sounding confused, wondering where they are. I smile, it's always the same.

Then they start banging on the metal drawer their body now calls home, pleading for help, pleading to be let out.

I know they're air tight and soon enough they will stop complaining, allowing me to finish my work

 

[chuchoo]

My daughter woke me around 11:50 last night. My wife and I had picked her up from her friend Sally’s birthday party, brought her home, and put her to bed. My wife went into the bedroom to read while I fell asleep watching the Braves game.

“Daddy,” she whispered, tugging my shirt sleeve. “Guess how old I’m going to be next month.”

“I don’t know, beauty,” I said as I slipped on my glasses. “How old?”
She smiled and held up four fingers.

It is 7:30 now. My wife and I have been up with her for almost 8 hours. She still refuses to tell us where she got them.

 

[Thought blocker]

Rutzaba

 

[mune:)]

Have you seen my friend Miranda anywhere? I seem to have lost her! The last time i saw her she was somewhere around here...

She is of medium height maybe 5'6 or so. She has long thin black hair and a very pale complexion. Her skin is rather wrinkled but she isnt old. And...she is wearing a rather dirty white gown, i think. What else...oh yes, she has empty eye sockets. No eyes, that is. Her cheeks are bloodstained. And...she has one of those, what do you call them... Glasgow smiles. She keeps her mouth somewhat open, flashing her sharp fangs and rather serpent like tongue from time to time. She keeps looking around for food. That girl has an apetite! And she has a weird way of standing, tilting her head a bit to the left with strands of hair covering her rather deformed face. She also has a habit of breathing slowly. So...yeah. Thats pretty much it.

If you see Miranda somewhere please tell her that... Oh... Nevermind. Silly me! I didnt even notice she is right there behind you!

Her description tho

 

[Rutzaba]

 

[Rutzaba]

“Here is a list of terrible things
, The jaws of sharks, a vultures wings
The rabid bite of the dogs of war,
The voice of one who went before,
But most of all the mirror’s gaze
, Which counts us out our numbered days.” –Clive Barker

 

[Hassan Ali Abid]

once, wheni was a child, i woke up at 2 am nd went to the bathroom, my foot slipped nd i hit the switch board behind me, that lit the bulb up...i saw sumthing in the mirror.......i started shouting *MAMAAAAAA MAMAAAAAAAAA............!!!*
my mother came running, frightened!...i screemed *MAMA BHOOOT! MAMA BHOOT!!!!*
then my mother told mr dats my reflection

 

[Rutzaba]

once, wheni was a child, i woke up at 2 am nd went to the bathroom, my foot slipped nd i hit the switch board behind me, that lit the bulb up...i saw sumthing in the mirror.......i started shouting *MAMAAAAAA MAMAAAAAAAAA............!!!*
my mother came running, frightened!...i screemed *MAMA BHOOOT! MAMA BHOOT!!!!*
then my mother told mr dats my reflection

ye apas ki bat hai isko apas me rhne do xD

 

[Rutzaba]

My neighbor was murdered sometime yesterday. I remember my hazy mind throbbing with fear as a gunshot had shattered through the air. I had lain awake with eyes wide in terror, my heart fluttering weakly.

I had heard the countless banging on the door from other neighbors, their concerned shouts and screams for help had driven me unconscious with apprehension. I grew agitated, but moving and making sounds were impossible in my current condition.

My heart had hammered painfully as emergency sirens had filled the air. The cops investigated the corpse of my neighbor that lay in the lounge, his blood oozing through the cracked floorboards.

They were supposed to be experts…

They were supposed to be experts, and I did everything. I even tried to lash out when they took the body away.

They were supposed to be experts, but they couldn’t find me…

It had been three days since my capture, silence permeated through the apartment as everybody moved on, and I still lay trapped underneath the cracked floorboards where his blood – my only sustenance – had poured into my tongue-less mouth

can i use yhem for my stories? can i continue them?

 

[Thought blocker]

can i use yhem for my stories? can i continue them?

What if she said no? -_-

 

[yasoob_shah]

Once upon a time there was a couple living in the woods. Both died..!! THE END!!!

 

[arsiss]

can i use yhem for my stories? can i continue them?

It isn't my own story so I cant say sorry

 

[Rutzaba]

What if she said no? -_-

Then i wont duh